Chapter Four
They all waited, remaining silent as the fog slowly faded. Each gust of wind seemed to do no more than push away a small amount of the fog, and in the early night sky it was even darker to see through. Libelle looked up at Vegeir as the elder inhaled sharply, he sat up taller from his perch with wide yellow eyes.
“Vegeir, what is it?” Libelle called out, pulling her arm from Davyn’s grasp and stepping forward into the courtyard, leaving the priests to stand on the steps of Uppsala The courtyard was now clear of all snow, exposing large stone slabs carved in intricate patterns. Despite all the heat that it took to clear the court yard, snow began to fall again and try to cover the ground. Each individual flake having its own identity that melted away on the cooling slabs. She approached the clearing haze slowly, waiting for any sign or sound of danger. There was none however, there was no movement from Eskil. The light from the fires heating the courtyard did not even reflect off his ebony scales, his wings did not move to try and take flight.
Libelle drew her sword again when the haze cleared even more and Eskil was not in sight. The black dragon had escaped? Where? Where had he even had to opportunity to flee? The fog suddenly vanished, and the sight that remained however took away her breath. Vegeir spread his wings and once again returned to her side, his gaze curious as they both stared at the newly formed crater in the ground.
The priests left the safety of their steps and joined the slayer and dragon ally, by their sides they all went silent for a moment. The crater was not empty, but the ebony dragon was not there. At the bottom of the crater lay the body of a man, he was slowly struggling to push himself upwards but it seemed as if all the strength he had fled his body and he kept collapsing back into the soil.
“Vegeir,” Libelle whispered. “-is that… is that Eskil?”
The old dragon made a rumbling noise, his yellow eyes were darting about as he thought the situation over. “You may be right, I believe it may be him.” He peered down the crater at the nude man who continued to struggle to stand. He motioned Libelle forward, and the Slayer slowly took her first step forward.
Libelle unconsciously flinched when the man’s deep voice hollered, “Curse you Slayer!”
His head lifted, and she swallowed hard. Her feet slid out from underneath her, and she fell onto the soil and slid down the steep slope on her bottom. She kicked her feet out in front of herself and tried to slow herself down, and eventually skidded to a stop only a few feet in front of the man.
Libelle flinched again when he reached forward and grabbed her leg, his grip was strong and tight: constricting like a snake around her thin ankle. The dark aura emitting from the man matched the dark aura Eskil had, this man had to be him.
The man lifted his head, his gaze locking with hers. “Pray for your soul,” He growled. His pearly white teeth clenched together, long fang like canines glimmering. “-for I will devour it.” He snarled again and pulled on her leg.
Libelle couldn’t help herself but find herself looking at his stunning features. The nude man-beast had to be Eskil, his eyes were glimmering like polished gold with black snake-like pupils. His skin was a lovely shade of bronze, and the tanned tissue was stretched over large and well-defined muscles. Despite his deep frown, he had deep colored lips, a sturdy jaw line with a slightly pointed chin and angular cheekbones.
His eyes were narrowed and spaced evenly apart, his thick arched brows were separated by his broad nose. Dark black hair hung straight down past his shoulders, sloppily kept as stray strands hung in his face. From the top of his head, at the beginning of his thick hair line protruded two thick black layered and scaled horns.
Her gaze trailed down his chin to his thick neck, his body being as tense as he was caused his tendons and muscles to stretch tightly beneath the skin. His adam’s apple bobbed when he swallowed, which caused her eyes to travel further down past his collar bones. His chest was large and broad, his abdomen chiseled with bulging and taught muscles. He pulled her down further again, his arm flexing and all the veins in his forearm and bicep looked like they would burst. Eskil in this form was incredibly handsome, he was incredibly fit and muscular. He was sexy. But he was still very, very dangerous.
“Slayer,” He growled. “Die.”
Eskil opened his human mouth, trying even now to build up the strength to form a flame to spew at her. Libelle saw few sparks build up at the back of his throat and she panicked, she quickly jerked back and used her free booted foot to kick him hard: her foot made full contact with his nose and chin. Eskil’s head snapped back and his eyes rolled back in his head, before his grip around her ankle loosened and he collapsed back to the ground beneath him.
Libelle exhaled when Eskil went limp, completely unconscious. “Vegeir, it really is him.”
The old dragon’s eyes widened. “Bring him here.”
Libelle grabbed Eskil’s limp arms and proceeded to drag him up the craters step ledge. He was still large in this form, tall and heavy. She struggled up the chilly slope, slipping more than she cared to. Davyn and Jolgeir reached out to her, grabbing onto her arm when she was within reach. Her feet reached the solid surface of a stone slab and she fell onto her knees after the two priest grabbed onto Eskil’s arms and pulled him up the rest of the way.
Libelle was panting, she was tired and her strength was fading. She was already tired from her trip here, the energy that was required sapped her strength as well. She needed to rest. She looked down at Eskil who was still unconscious and he showed no signs of waking up. She felt her cheeks flush when she looked down the rest of his nude body, everything was large in this form of his.
Davyn shook his head and wiped his forehead with his grey wool robes. “How did this happen?”
“I do not know, Loki said this magic was only meant to prevent him from harming mortals. Any other side effects, this side effect: I could not predict this.” She watched as Jolgeir turned and headed up the slippery steps and push open the doors to Uppsala, then disappearing behind the heavy wooden doors.
“You cast a spell without knowing its side effects?!” Davyn asked frustrated. “I trust our gods, but you know how Loki is! Why did you not question his actions further?”
“Would you question a god when he offers you his help?” She snapped.
Davyn sighed, shaking his head. “No, probably not.”
Libelle shrugged, “It’s not like I have test subjects lying about for trial and error. In theory it was not meant to have such an effect, but not a soul could have foreseen this.” She glared at Davyn as he was about to continue his assault of questions and insults.
“Davyn, don’t scold me like some bairn. I did what my heart felt was necessary, I knew I could not kill him in this world or the next. But with this moment, I knew we were able to disarm him. That is what I aimed to do.”
“But what are we to do with him now?!” Davyn raised his voice a notch higher when Olief and Kirk stepped away to return to the warmth of the temple. “Keeping an entire dragon captive was one thing, but now you need to keep a man! A man with horns is not going to go unnoticed!”
Vegeir interrupted his disciple. “Calm Davyn, patience. The slayer could not predict this, I could not see this curse. Eskil’s no longer the prince, his crown has been removed.” He nodded in approval when the three other priests returned with wool robes in hand and several blankets. They moved as fast as their aged legs could carry them over the slick ground and knelt by Eskil’s side. Quickly gowning him and providing mild protection from the cold.
“Vegeir, we cannot keep him here. We are peace seekers, not jail keepers.” Davyn said, this time more calmly.
He nodded again, “Slayer, this responsibility falls to you I am afraid. I do not know what to expect from this magic, so be prepared for anything. Eskil may return to his normal self at any moment, and none of us know if he will not be able to harm mortals any longer.”
He shifted his weight, “It will be your task to keep a close eye on him. Keep those around him safe, and please return to me with any news.”
Libelle forced a smile to him, “You know I will only do this cause you asked me so nicely.”
Vegeir snorted before he returned to the sky, flying high above the temple and returning to the peak of the mountain. He would meditate and he would give his wounds time to heal. Leaving her to deal with the man-beast and a very upset Davyn.
“Help me bring him inside will you?” She asked the men, and reluctantly they each grabbed a limb ever so not-gently. They quickly shuffled inside and Libelle followed the men to an empty cot where they set Eskil down. He was still breathing which was a good sign, but the smear of blood from his nose blemished his features. Libelle sat down next to him, accepting a heavy blanket from Kirk.
She kicked off her soaked boots and set her feet near the warmth of the fire place, not more than ten feet from Eskil's bedside. The heat from the flames radiated into the room, bringing heat into the chilled bones of all the beings in the room. Libelle sighed and rested her head back against the stone wall, wrapping herself in the blanket she kept her side to the sleeping dragon. Her chest to the flames, and her other side to the doorway. Right now, she just wanted sleep.
Davyn had taken the few minutes to calm himself, despite his worry and his frustrations there was nothing that he or anyone else could do to change the outcome of this situation. He had to accept Vegeir’s wisdom and decision on the matter.
“We will sleep in the opposite wing, please call if you need us.” He said following his brothers out the stone archway.
“Yes, I will.” Libelle said, resting her head on her arms that were now crossed on her bent knees.
“Please keep an eye on him, he is still Eskil, the world-eater. Even though he looks almost like a man.”
“Alright.” She was already asleep by the time Davyn and the others left the room. She had exhausted her magic, her stamina, and her strength. Now she needed rest.
Eskil groaned as his head pulsated in pain, it felt like a boulder had landed between his eyes and he could hear his pulse beating in his ears. He wanted to open his eyes but they stung, his ears were buzzing and his throat was dry. What had occurred the night before was lost to him, the evening's events filled with nothing but a black haze in place of his memory.
He felt oddly warm in his surroundings and it was strangely quiet. He knew he had to access the damage to his body, he’d likely be missing scales and lots of blood if he did not remember his battle with the slayer.
He forced his eyes open and blinked, his vision momentarily blurry before his gaze found focus. Puzzled, he found himself staring at a stone brick ceiling. Where was he? He found himself thinking. Had the slayer imprisoned him in some temple?
Eskil sat up to inspect his surroundings, he needed to know where he was. Despite his sore body he pushed himself up further, perching himself on his wings clumsily. He growled out, fighting the aches that radiated all over him. He blinked a few more times before freezing and taking in the sight.
A pair of mortal feet lay in front of him, attached were two legs that attached to a waist and an abdomen. He swallowed hard, and began to breathe in and out rapidly. He raised his wings upwards to his face to inspect them, but what appeared in his vision were not his wings: but a set of calloused hands.
What in Odin’s name is this? Where is my body? Where are my scales, my talons, my wings?! Slayer, where are you? What have you done to me?!
Eskil pushed himself upwards until he was standing and stumbled around the room until he was able to approach a large bowl of clear water. He looked into the water to see his reflection, and his horned face was not the one that greeted him. What stared back at him was a mortal face, one with tanned skin, black hair and golden eyes. The only part of himself that he recognized was the single pair of horns protruding from his head. He shredded the itchy wool material from his body, tearing it into pieces and throwing it to the floor. This body was not his, it was not one he recognized. He wanted to scream, to breathe deep breaths of fire and tear the stone building down: he wanted to find the elvish woman who had placed this curse on him.
Slayer, I do not know what you did to me but you will fix it! You will change me back and I will kill you! I will break your soul into pieces and devour it! I will-
He needn't look far however, because while he paced the room in an enraged fit he caught sight of the slayer, sleeping soundly against the wall near where he had slept. She hadn't stirred the entire time he had raised a fit, still sleeping with her head resting on her forearms that were crossed on her knees. She had a blanket wrapped around her, and ten pink toes peeked out from the blanket.
She's… unarmed? Why? Humph, I shouldn't bother myself with asking why. It makes her such an easier target, in this form I am… Am I weak? Curse you elf, you will answer for this!
As quickly and as silently as he could he rushed up to her, ideas of ripping her esophagus from her throat, or her heart from her chest filled his mind. He was furious. He was about to reach for her thick mane of hair when she looked up at him with her icy blue eyes and an expression that lacked emotion. He gritted his teeth when he found himself wanting to admire her, and forced himself to lunge with his fist and try to take a fist-full of her blankets. Wanting to slam her down to the ground. He would make her pay for what she had done to him.
Libelle effortlessly dodged the man-beasts grip, his movements slow as he was not used to his new form. His fist passed by her and slammed into the bricks behind her, but he did not yield to the pain. His eye twitched, and his lip curled into a snarl again. Libelle sighed, ducking beneath his muscular arm and pushing him backwards, hard. He stumbled backwards and tripped over his bare feet, falling backwards to the cold stone floor.
“I will kill you! What have you done to me!?” Eskil tried to push himself back up, he wanted this fight to continue but he froze when the Slayer plopped herself down across his waist. She grabbed both his wrists and pinned them to the floor by his head, and gave him an icy glare. He struggled against her grasp, he actually struggled! He somehow was not strong enough to pull himself away. Gods, he would kill her.
“Get off me.”
She didn't respond, but just continued to stare at him. Her eyes darting about his face.
“Damn you to Hel, I will kill you Slayer!” He struggled again, feeling like a hatchling caught in a trap. She still didn't respond, instead she sat up and simply let go of his wrists. Eskil paused momentarily, trying to process the possible schemes she was up to before he sat up as fast as he could and wrapped his long and thick fingers around her neck. He squeezed.
The moment his malicious intent grew to its peak, and his hands constricted around her throat Eskil screamed. His mortal scream just as chilling as his dragon roar. His head snapped back and all the muscles in his body went rigid like he had currents of electricity running through his body. His grip loosened and he fell backwards panting, beads of sweat formed on his brow and his eyes were clenched shut. She remained sitting across his lap, her buttocks on his waist and her heels behind her beside his legs.
“Hmmm, so it worked.” Libelle murmured, her voice just above a whisper. She tapped her slender finger to her lip.
“What,” Eskil panted. “-have you done to me?” He slowly opened his eyes as the pain gradually faded. She was still contently sitting on him, no fear in her eyes this time. It sickened him, the pride it had brought him the weeks before when he was able to strike fear into her eyes with hardly any effort were gone.
She didn't answer him again, but continued to stare at him. Seeming to be analyzing him, like he was some subject in an alchemist's laboratory. It made him uncomfortable, it sent chills up his spine. When had he become such a coward?
His anger returned as soon as the pain vanished, and he forcefully pushed her from his lap. He followed as she tumbled backwards on her bum and grabbed her wrists, slamming them down onto the ground by her head: just as she had to him. Despite his human appearance, he was still a dragon: the need for revenge was great and the taste to have her blood on his tongue was even greater. He opened his mouth wide and bent his head down over her jugular, his razor sharp canines touching her skin like tickling feathers.
The same incredible pain rushed through him, every nerve cell in his body screamed and burned. It felt like his skin was being stripped from his body, his muscles being torn from the bone, and his soul was being ripped into shreds. It was excruciating, it was a pain he had never felt before. It was pain he would never wish upon any of his kin.
He panted hard again, his eyes clenched shut as he still held the female elf beneath him. He waited for the pain to pass once more. “What have you done to me?” He groaned out.
She shifted herself beneath him and he raised his head to look at her. Her cheeks were a rosy pink and she was averting her chilling eyes. He grabbed her chin roughly, and then loosened his grip when pain stung at him again with warning. He turned her head towards him, directing her gaze to meet with his.
“Tell me woman, what have you done to me?”
She opened her mouth to reply then snapped it shut, the color in her cheeks darkening. A deep growl emerged from his throat, “Slayer, in this form I may not be able to harm you. But I do have ways to make you speak.”
She sighed, “Fine then you big oaf, I’ll tell you once you get off of me.”
He growled again, “I am rather comfortable with you at my mercy.”
He was to his surprise, his mortal enemy was pinned beneath the weight of his body. The warmth coming from her body felt delicious as it warmed his cool skin, he fit snugly between her legs and her plump chest pressed against his felt strangely erotic.
She sighed again, “I will not tell you anything until you get off of me. You hear me? You want the story, you’re going to listen.” She wiggled against him, sliding herself upwards and pulling her wrists from his hands. Eskil paused as he felt a feeling he hadn't felt in a great length of time, in fact: he didn't remember the last time he felt this way. He felt aroused.
Why, he could not answer. He was so angry, rage burned deep down to his core. Arousal was the last thing on his mind, let alone arousal for a slayer. A cursed dragon reborn as a mortal. This was disgusting, it was embarrassing. He pushed himself upwards to follow the elf who scooted away again, the pink color of her cheeks now a deep red.
He was nestled between her thighs again and pushed her back down to the floor, when an uncontrolled, desire filled moan escaped his mouth. A wave of pleasure shot through him when his body rubbed against her inner thigh, and he found himself unconsciously grinding his hips against her groin.
What are you doing you fool? He mentally snapped at himself. You're here in this situation because of this damned she-elf, you're in a mortals form! Secure the information you need to change back, kill her, and be done with this whole situation!
Eskil growled again when pleasure spiked through him again, how he did not know. Or gather the information, mate her, then kill her. The idea was one that intrigued him yet still disturbed him. How do mortals even mate? They don't lay eggs like dragons, do they? No, they enter this world screaming from their mother's loins.
The naive thought had to cross his mind, he had never seen mortals in the act. It disgusted him, it was a scene he never wanted to see. The scene of mortals he wanted, was them screaming in agony as his flames charred them to the bone.
He sat up on his knees and looked down to where his pleasure was emitting from, and from his waist stood at attention a thick and pulsating cock. Mortal’s genitalia looked very different from that of a dragon. He gripped his hand around it, examining this also foreign part of his body. Not all dragons found pleasure in mating, they mostly did so only to protect their species and it was only with the one they would call lifemate. So to have this long, hard, thick and hot rod in his possession was very new.
However here he lay with the slayer pinned beneath him and all he wanted to do was mate, to satisfy his own pleasure. He combated his mental thoughts as an array of them rushed through his mind in a whirlpool. Dragons mate with only one dragon their entire life, they mate with their lifemate: and the slayer was not his lifemate. Why he felt arousal for her, he blamed on her damned curse.
He watched as she quickly pushed herself away again, attempting to stand when he grabbed her leather waistband. She glared at him. “Behave yourself beast.”
Eskil felt a strong pulse beat through his member, the skin was soft and silky, and each touch that made contact with the tissue sent bolts of fire to his groin. He moaned again, when he slid his hand from the base of his member to the round tip.
If this is what mortals feel while mating, I can understand why they do it so much. He turned his fiery gaze towards hers with ill thoughts, his grip on her waist band tightened as he tried to pull her back down beneath him. Too hell with her not being his lifemate, he was strangely willing to find out how mating occurred between mortals.
Libelle pulled her arm back and balled her hand into a fist, swinging it forward with all the strength she had and smashing her knuckles into Eskil's unguarded nose. The man-beast howled and released her, stumbling backwards on his knees and his hands went straight to his once-again bleeding nose.
She stood up, struggling to ignore the desire she had to kick him hard in his gut, and forced herself to walk away. She stormed out of the room and down the hallway towards the opposite wing of Uppsala She muttered curses under her breath, and stomped her feet as she walked towards the one room all the priests would be gathered in for their morning meal. The hallways of Uppsala were always warm, several blazes lit the halls with warm fires. Her bare feet slapped the stone floors as she stomped down the few steps into the council room where she found the four priest.
They all looked up from their meals with a puzzled expression when she continued to stomp into the room and up to the table. She dropped herself into a heavy chair, leaning forward to rest her elbows on the stone table before rubbing her temples with a deep sigh.
Davyn stared at her while taking a spoon and scooped up a spoonful of a hearty stew. “Are you having a rough morning?”
She groaned again, “Yes. I slept like a log and I have this horrendous knot in my neck. First thing I opened my eyes too is a pair that belonged to a devil who merely wanted to cut me down. I was not even able to eat some breakfast before I needed to beat the beast down.”
Davyn raised an eyebrow to her. “So you are saying that your magic did not work?”
“No, everything worked.” She accepted a hot bowl of stew and a spoon from Kirk before taking a large and savory bite. The soft potatoes and tender meat unleashed a burst of flavor with all the added spices and she felt her stomach warm up. Her stomach was empty before this, and the food tasted amazing.
“I thought Eskil would be unable to harm a mortal after the curse was placed upon him? How was he able to attack you?” Davyn asked after another bite.
Libelle took another bite as well. “Well, I discovered what would happen if Eskil were to try and harm a mortal. Not that this spell completely prevents him from taking a move to harm a mortal, but he for sure is not able to follow through with any intent.”
She continued eating when the priests looked amongst themselves, more puzzled than before. Davyn spoke for the other three men, “What does that mean?”
Libelle took the last few remaining bites in her bowl before answering. “Initially, I assumed the spell would prevent Eskil from taking any action that could harm a mortal. I assumed he wouldn't be able to even think of it, but I had nothing to base my assumptions on. Well it seems he is able to take action on those thoughts. He attacked me when I first opened my eyes, managed to get his hands around my throat.”
“Yet, it seems the moment Eskil actually makes the attempt to harm a mortal his body is riddled with pain. Looked like he had an electric current running through him. He went stiff all over, and it obviously seemed to hurt. Stopped him fast in his tracks.”
Davyn’s puzzled expression seemed to fade as he processed her words through his mind. “So, there were no effects until he tried to harm you?”
“Yes, that’s correct.”
“So we have nothing to worry about then? You’ll be able to keep an eye on him, keep everyone safe?” Davyn asked.
“Yes, I can keep everyone safe. For the moment, we have nothing to worry about.” She accepted another bowl from Kirk and began taking bite after bite. “If he cannot harm a mortal now, he merely needs to be supervised. Currently, he is not a threat. I suppose I will take him back to my home, and have my manservant show him some manners. He may look like a man, but he still is the dragon prince.”
“What will you do with him? You sound as if you’re keeping a new pet.”
Libelle chuckled, “Yes, it does sound like that. But no, I am not keeping a pet. I am taking a chance by not killing Eskil, and not let him kill anyone else. It’s quite the responsibility.”
Yes, she was taking on a great responsibility. One she has not fully prepared for, one she was not even expecting to ever have. She could not leave Eskil in Uppsala, nothing good would come from him trying the priest’s patience. He would undoubtedly become their next sacrifice.
She could not leave him to roam the land, there was no guarantee that the gods spell was permanent and no guarantee if he would forever be unable to harm another mortal. As a slayer, she was tasked with something she felt would be impossible.
Eskil was vicious, demonic, and wanted blood: her blood. She would need to remain on guard around him, despite him failing to harm her earlier this morning she would not let her guard down. She did not know what would come from keeping him so close to her, it was an idea that did not please her.
Eskil would probably pose a continuous problem, he will most likely be destructive and try to escape. Or try to find ways to kill her and everyone around him. Perhaps she would simply lock him in a cellar, keep him fed and watered but no more… The devil had taken many lives in this world, slain many men just to satisfy his hatred. Even the souls of the dead were not safe from him.
“Slayer!”
Libelle closed her eyes, a frown forming and creasing her brow. Eskil appeared in the doorway, blood running from his nose and down his chin, droplets of the red liquid on his chest. He was still nude, completely exposed to everyone’s gaze. She felt the flush return to her cheeks when he stomped down the stairs towards her, crossing the room towards her seat. His muscular chest was taut and his arms were flexing as he clenched and stretched his hands.
He slammed his hand down onto the table in front of her and bent down, his gold eyes narrowing even more. Libelle felt uncomfortable, but thankfully did not feel endangered. She stared into his eyes, his mortal face was just as intimidating as his scaled form: but she did not feel that tingle of danger she had been feeling of late.
“Tell me what you did.” He growled.
She growled back at him, “I said I will tell you. I will tell you when you get yourself covered.”
“You will tell me now.”
“I will tell you when you get yourself covered. I will not repeat myself again.” She hissed at him, and then began to question her rising temper. Why was she losing her patience? Why was she not remaining stoic and calm?
Eskil snarled again and leaned closer to her, his face a few inches from hers. “You will tell me now.”
Davyn and the three remaining priests stood up from their seats as they eyed the situation. They were ready for the worst, ready for Eskil to strike: then they would defend their temple and ally. Despite what she said, they had not seen any of it with their own eyes. They were still ready for him to be the man eater like he was known to be.
Libelle felt the intimidating aura rise from Eskil, it was invisible but it was still there. Just as dark as he was, it was like his soul was reaching from his body to strike fear in her. To scare her. The stronger his aura became, the stronger the twinge of fear sparked about in her belly. Is this what made her scared? Was this the sensation that caused her blood to boil before turning into ice? This heavy feeling that he emitted from his body brought tension and fear to those it weighed down. Libelle pushed past the feeling of despair he was crushing her with and stood up very fast. She knocked him backwards and jabbed her finger into his bare chest, taking wide steps forward as he took wide steps backwards.
“You want to know what I did to you, you devil!? I have stopped you from killing anymore of my people!” She jabbed her finger hard into his chest again. “Yes, I cannot kill you but I found a way to stop you. You cannot kill anymore!”
Eskil’s eyes widened in anger, “That does not explain why I look like this! Like a mortal!”
She glared back at him, “I do not have an answer for that. The magic and power we used were only meant to prevent you from killing anyone. This-” She gestured to all of him. “-I cannot explain. None of us knew this would happen.”
He growled and tried to push himself from the wall she had cornered him on, but she didn't budge. “Change me back.”
“I cannot do that.”
“Do it.”
“I cannot do it, because I do not know how to do it!”
Eskil paused, his expression changing from anger, to frustration, to realization to his situation. “I,” He narrowed his eyes at her again. “-I am stuck like this?”
She nodded, “Yes, for how long I’m not sure.”
There was a moment of hope in his eyes, “It’s not permanent?”
“I don’t know.”
He looked at the ground, trying to find a solution to his situation. He was a mortal. He had his magic but he did not have his wings. He appeared weak, how was he to remain the prince of the dragons? The glorious creation or Búri was no mortal. The slayer had spent a lot of time arranging her plan, praying to the gods who had allied with her. What she had discovered was not simply a spell that would prevent him from taking mortal life, but it had changed his physical form as well. How in the name of all the gods had a mortal stumbled, stumbled! Upon such ancient and powerful magic?
“Loki.” He whispered, his head raising and resting against the stone wall: his eyes directed up to the ceiling now.
“Yes.”
“You trusted that bastard to help you?”
“Yes.”
Eskil cursed and snarled at her, still more beast than man. “You delved into forbidden magic you fool.” He hissed out, forcing himself to speak despite his rage.
Gods he was in a terrible situation; one god, Loki, he had aided her in her studies. Up to nothing but mischief no doubt. If the god prince was involved in this, and their magic behind her spell: he was in for a long and rough road until he found an answer he would be satisfied with.
“You will help in changing me back.” He said.
Libelle shook her head, her blue eyes narrowed just like his. “I will do no such a thing. Your mortal form was not involved in my plan, but it is now. You’re stuck like this, like it or not.”
Eskil bellowed out a roar of frustration and picked Libelle up by the collar of her cotton shirt, spinning the surprised dragon slayer around and pinning her against the wall. He pushed hard, the sound of her back slamming against the stone slab was loud. Even louder was his garbled scream as the same painful electrical current rushed through him. He collapsed onto the ground shaking, dry heaves clenching his stomach and making him want to hurl up the non-existent contents of his stomach.
Jolgeir approached the pair with a pair of wool pants, a simple cotton shirt and a vest. Silently agreeing that the nude man-beast should be nude no longer. Libelle accepted them and knelt down in front of Eskil who was trying to slow his breathing, working through his pain.
“Like it or not Eskil, you are stuck like this until further notice. I cannot change you back, and even if I could I would not do so. You cannot harm a mortal any longer, and you cannot defend yourself from them either. You are to come with me so I can keep my eye on you.”
He growled again, “I will not obey you like some dog she-elf.”
“Yes, you will. You’re mortal now Eskil, you may even be able to die now. You have three choices, and I am being generous by giving you that. One: You will come with me, where I can keep you in safe-keepings. You will be fed and clothed, and you will be free to go about with some discretion. Two: I can let you travel down this mountain by your lonesome self, ass-naked with nothing to defend yourself with. You may be able to fend off the packs of wolves and the occasional troll, but you come face to face with a bunch of bandits: you will be nothing more than a notch on their belt once they’re through with you. Three: I can test my original theory and see if you can die in this form with my blade. I won't make it fast or easy or nothing of the sort. I will have my revenge for all the pain you have caused this land. Understand?”
Libelle was playing dirty; she knew it, he knew it and the priests knew it. If Eskil ever wanted to find a way to return to his dragon form, he would return with her to her home. He would behave himself, and he would not seek out trouble. Without his wings, without her… He was defenseless against any man who sought to bring him harm. He could not ask any of his brethren for their help, it would be so disgraceful to show his current self in front of them. He was alone without the cursed slayer.
Eskil looked up at Libelle, both with an unwavering stubbornness in their eyes. “Fine.” He snapped, pulling the clothing from her extended hand. The other remained on the hilt of her sword.
“Get dressed, eat something, and we are leaving before the sun rises above the eastern peak.” She turned away from him, walking up to Davyn and saying something in a whisper before the two began to walk out of the room. Once again she left Eskil on the floor, only this time he had three men silently staring at him. He unfolded the cotton shirt, finding what he assumed was the front of it and pulled it over his head: still glaring cold daggers at the woman who was well out of his sight.
Dragon Slayer, I will break you.