Chapter Three
No longer locked in a tower having to deal with a lunatic hierarchy of disgruntled royals, Xanthia found it easier to think and better to live. She had the entire tower to herself and a choice of rooms, an army of little mice to help bring her things and who loved helping her out at every opportunity – and a contrite dragon who ended up collaborating with her on how best to refurbish the cave and make it a worthwhile place to dwell in.
Xanthia never got choices like this back at home. Everything existed, already made and set out for her, so she never got a chance to challenge or question the glamor around her. Here, with nothing, and the possibility to decorate, it made her excited and eager to stick around, at least long enough to see her efforts become reality.
“The issue is,” Mokkan said, while they both examined a sketched diagram of what Xanthia thought Mokkan should do, “that I have nothing to bargain with at the moment. Witches demand artifacts, as do goblins and any good craftsmen. Until we sort out that issue, we’re stuck only with low level Quests and shady traders.”
Xanthia considered “selling” herself off to dragons and then simply getting Mokkan to break her out again, but it would provide more trouble than it was worth. At least she had a bed, a bath, and regular food brought to her. Whether that merited her going out of her way to help him still remained in contention, but for now, she wanted to help.
At least he’s good to look at, though I probably would have assisted either way. I’m a sucker for this kind of thing.
“I guess you’ll have to stick with Quests, or raiding some of the kingdoms.”
Mokkan shrugged. “I suppose. I won’t be able to steal gold. And it’s hit and miss if I can find a princess to keep or sell.”
On second thought, I don’t want to put another princess through this. “Leave out the kingdom-raiding for now. Low-level Quests. What do you have or know?”
Mokkan tapped his finger against the crudely drawn architect map. His green eyes furrowed, and the way he scrunched up his lips looked strange but endearing at the same time on his bulk of a body. He packed some serious muscles, honestly. Xanthia’s eyes wandered over them often, sometimes contemplating what they could do. Such as pick up a heavy weight. Punch through wooden walls. Pick her up and pin her on the bed, as the both of them became tangled up in silk and sweat.
She fanned herself discreetly, trying to fight back the flush in her cheeks like the impact of wind against fire, though Mokkan didn’t appear to notice.
“There are a few Quests I know of, running right now. And there are always travelling mystics who will inform you of additional ones.”
“Here’s an idea. Find Quests that will get me gear. Armor. Weapons. Flight. Anything to make it possible for me to assist on low-level ones as well. And point me to a mystic. I can help.”
“Hmm.” Mokkan nodded thoughtfully, mulling over her idea. “I can do that. Give me a week or two. I have a lot of farming to do.”
“Deal,” Xanthia said. “And, uh… if you can find out what happened to my sister as well, that’d be great. From the… auction.”
“Which one was she?” Mokkan asked, neither rejecting her request nor confirming he intended to go through with it.
“Short. Short blonde hair. Looks like she wants to murder you. Oh, and she tried to escape but got caught by that bodyguard dragon.”
“Ah. That one. Yes, I’ll ask.” Mokkan stalked into the kitchen, checking inside one of the undamaged cauldrons for whatever simmered away in there. “Okay, here’s food. Do what you can to tidy up, though I think we’ve tackled most of it by now. And I’ll start hunting down some Quests.”
Xanthia waved him goodbye with a smile, before the expression collapsed, and she slumped herself on a sofa.
Am I really doing this? Am I really helping this dragon?
Apparently, she was. If my sisters back home found out about this, I’d be a laughing stock. I’d have put all our years together dreaming about princes and being rescued to shame. And my parents would be shocked with me.
She shook her head violently and ran her palms over her face. Several of the mice were now pooling around her, and one squeaked in concern.
“It’s okay,” she said to the squeaker, who twitched tiny whiskers and flicked its tail into a question mark. “I’m just thinking of what to do. We have a lot to decorate and get clean, don’t we? Do you mice have Quests as well?”
The lead mouse nodded solemnly.
“Right. Quests for food and avoiding mousetraps, probably.” Again, a nod.
Xanthia smiled, getting herself up and ready to start tidying up. Her, looking forward to it. Well, if pigs could fly, so could she.
Transforming the house for Mokkan took all her energy, and she also held a vision for a new look of the tower – instead of it being a mess of twenty lonely rooms, she wanted to make them more like an inn. A grand, luxurious place with decent facilities, and somewhere for Mokkan’s guests to drop by. She also wanted to establish a gaming area of sorts for him, to give friends more of an excuse to stay around, to play card games or those strange little board games where people pretended to be characters hunting for treasure.
Over the next week, Mokkan blitzed Quest after Quest, accumulating little things and gear for Xanthia, so she could start with Quests of her own.
Armed with Leaf Wings – not the best flying item that existed, but something that allowed her to fly for a few minutes at a time before she needed to land to recharge them – mithril armor, an invisibility ring, a Quest detector complete with a rating meter, and a spark wand that fired electricity from the tip, she now started helping with Quests.
Venturing out into the Wilderness sent her quivering with fear the first time. The invisibility ring would be how she escaped from threatening situations, and Mokkan had promised to deliver her a teleport ring once he completed the Prince in the Mountain Quest. She looked around the local area, and her Quest meter vibrated with possibility. Steeling herself, she committed to the nearest Quest.
In one day, she’d managed to kiss three frogs who had once been witches from a bygone age before being cursed by their own spells, rescued a giant’s cat from a cliff edge where it clung desperately to some twigs, and did some shopping for a troll by collecting gloomseeds for his garden.
Her net reward from these low-level Quests wasn’t much, but she then traded all the trinkets to procure a goblin crew for the day to help renovate the cave.
All the trading around and scampering for items felt addictive.
The goblins worked magnificently, reshaping the entire cave with their peculiar brand of magic, adding soft orange lighting everywhere. The tower went through the biggest reshaping, now becoming more like an inn, complete with a bar (no drinks, though), a resting area, spa rooms, and spacious bedrooms with some free furniture thrown in. They expanded the treasury as well, adding shelves to help display some of the artifacts Mokkan planned to accumulate at some point in the future. They also gave her a bottle of blackthorn ale for being such a gracious client.
Mokkan came back to the transformation, and grew so elated at the sight that he grabbed Xanthia in a massive hug and spun her around. Her blonde hair flew out behind her.
“You’re amazing! You did this with two days of Questing? Wow!”
Xanthia grinned idiotically, happy that Mokkan liked her efforts so much. It made her time worthwhile, and to see an impact, the association of her hard work converting into something visible, hooked her to the idea of seeing it through to the end.
Of contributing to something, instead of sitting around and having everything handed to her.
It worked best when she didn’t focus too long on the easy life she once held.
One month of hard grinding for Quests, and though the treasury wasn’t nearly as full as it used to be, Mokkan’s cave now looked like the inside of a palace, complete with fortifications and curses.
Both of them were sprawled out on one of the new plush red sofas, toasting their efforts with glasses of goblin-brewed blackthorn ale, both heading more towards the tipsy realm, exceeding what would have been appropriate for a princess.
“And then, I told that stupid troll that if he didn’t give up the location of the princess, I’d hang him from a tree by his ridiculous pink hair and smear honey all over him. He gave up that princess so fast, you’d have thought I’d threatened to burn his whole family alive. So that’s the secret with trolls. Threaten their hair, get everything.” Mokkan burped, raising up his glass. Xanthia’s legs draped over Mokkan’s lap, and she laughed and clinked glasses with him.
“Who would have thought this Questing business was so fun? I can see why some people want to be Questers forever. It’s wonderful! So much better than sitting around and bitching about other people. We have an amazing place.”
At the mention of we, Mokkan’s smile widened, becoming shy. “Yes. We’ve done a lot to make it wonderful. And the mice, too.”
A satisfied squeak resounded from under the sofa.
Xanthia sighed, staring up at the ceiling where an enchanted chandelier hung, flickering with orange light. New tapestries adorned the walls, and the better lighting gave the place a warm, homey aura.
“I just wanted to let you know, I have a surprise coming for you later.” Mokkan folded his arms, and Xanthia glanced over to the living room table, where six chairs were lined up in total, and the candles were already set up. She guessed Mokkan expected guests, but acted as if she didn’t know and said, “Oh! I look forward to that. Will I need to change into anything special?”
“Perhaps. But for now, we can just admire our handiwork.” He leaned against his palms. The happiness in his expression drooped slightly. “You know…” He sat up then, eyes serious, and Xanthia felt a little shiver travel up and down her spine. “Have you been enjoying yourself here? It’s just… I’m not used to being with a princess like this. I don’t really interact with them beyond, well, you know. Taking them.”
“Mokkan, you’ve been interacting with me for the past month or so. We’ve been fine, haven’t we? I haven’t given you any murderous glares or anything, right?”
“Right,” he said dubiously. “I tend to worry I’m doing something wrong.”
“Why?” Xanthia leaned on her elbow, genuinely curious. “You’re a mighty and powerful dragon. You shouldn’t need to worry about that.”
“I was –” he hesitated, now appearing deeply uncomfortable. Xanthia’s ears perked up, sensing a secret lay trapped in his throat. Waiting to be released. “Not considered a very good dragon. I was the runt of the litter. Last to get food, last to be considered. People didn’t want to be my friend, or they did so simply to trick me out of my gold and items, because I liked handing them over. I liked seeing people happy, and I strived to make people happy.”
Xanthia nodded, an inkling of understanding burrowing itself into her brain. She thought Mokkan seemed shy on occasions, and she noticed how his face always lit up when she thanked him for something he did.
That’s a bad habit. I need to help him. Or even I’ll end up walking all over him.
“In the end, I found that I could get friends if I became rich enough. Then people would want to visit me, trade with me, admire my princesses. So I ended up hoarding quite obsessively. And it worked!”
“Um…” Xanthia raised a tentative hand. “I hate to put you down like this, but I don’t think the people who visited you then were really friends. They just wanted to associate with someone who was rich. And getting people to visit you because you’re rich isn’t a great idea for having friends, either. I know that from experience. Princesses are bitches.”
“Oh.” Mokkan’s green eyes looked downcast. “You think so?”
“I know so. And, Mokkan. You can be a great dragon. I saw the way you fought – you fought so bravely! You just need to work on your confidence a bit. And I promise you’ll have friends.”
“Right. Well. I might have… made some friends during my Questing. I had to get some people to help me out, and they said they were happy to help me out at any time. No payment needed.”
Xanthia nodded, smiling at the dragon. “See? You’re already doing it.”
She saw a question weighing on his mind. She still didn’t know much about Mokkan, but felt like he was somehow… more human than the humans she’d associated with. Bound by the rules of their lunatic world, and an enemy of the Hundred Kingdoms.
Just not her enemy.
“What’s wrong?”
Mokkan reached over to grasp her hand, though he did it as if frightened she would pull away. When Xanthia let him take it, he took a deep breath and said, “I’m afraid you’re going to go away. I mean, I know that you’re not bound to stay here. And that you said you’d stick around and help me out. But… I like having you around. I like…” he searched for the word, scowling for a moment, “being a team with you. I like seeing our progress together, and I like seeing you smile.”
Oh.
Xanthia’s cheeks decided to burn like coals in that instant, and the temperature of the room suddenly increased. She fanned her face with a free hand and laughed nervously, both embarrassed and oddly happy to hear that at the same time. To have someone admit they liked her.
Okay, it was a dragon, but honestly, he looked damn good. With some more confidence ramming up his spine, he’d be so deliciously sexy that she’d want to drag him into bed and never leave it again.
After all, those eyes glimmered out of his face in a dreamy, ethereal manner. His red hair should have denoted a temper, but he acted like a sweet, kind soul – something so rare, that Xanthia didn’t want to see him go. She wanted to watch this soul mature into something glorious, to become what she knew he could be. Not a dragon going to auctions, buying princesses, desperate for attention and to be acknowledged, but a dragon who set fire to things, roared and stamped everything around him to smithereens under the weight of his awesome strength.
On impulse, Xanthia brought Mokkan’s hand to her lips and kissed it, eyes locked on his.
“I say we have at least a few weeks’ worth of decorating yet. And then maybe you can show me around your favorite places. That probably will take another few weeks, right?”
A breath-taking smile crept across his face as the words registered in his brain. He then shook his head and blinked, before clasping her hand in both of his.
“You should get ready. The surprise will be here soon.”
He went to get off the sofa, before pausing, then pulling Xanthia close and planting a gentle, feathery kiss upon her lips. Her heart fluttered strangely from the tender contact. His hands cupped her cheeks, and he kissed, not expertly, but patiently, waiting to see what she did next.
Well, Xanthia wasn’t exactly an expert on kissing, either. So, she went along with it, close-mouthed at first, enjoying the rubbery texture of his lips brushing over hers, and closing her eyes to sink into the moment.
She wanted to float away in that fragment of time, drift into the sky and take him with her, and drink in the warm, shivering feeling inside her forever, but she forced herself away, cleared her throat, and said, “I…”
“Yeah,” Mokkan said, appearing slightly dazed. “Go dress. No distract.”
“No distract,” Xanthia agreed.
She shot away from the sofa before she changed her mind and dragged him with her, to explore the feelings further, to see just exactly how far they might go.
She knew it was improper for her to do so, but she no longer felt like a princess of the Hundred Kingdoms. She felt like a princess of the Wilderness.
A princess with a touch of feral blood in her.
Maybe I’m more like my sister than I realized.