The Dragon's Consort

Chapter 6

TW: Mention of Rape

Zara next to Zurden as the central bonfire raged. The others had gone to sleep, lying comfortably in their pile, leaving him on guard duty. He stared intently into the flames, watching every flicker and crack with great interest.

"What are your other brothers like?" she asked, and he turned his head, propping it up with his hand.

"Well, Cadmus and Armos are the only blood brothers, the rest of us lost our blood relatives, if we had any to begin with. They always have been an odd pair, both from House Aevnass. They often do not stay with us for long, not since we all we reached maturity, Cadmus especially," he sighed, "Cadmus was just at the end of his youngling years when the females died. He is different from us, actually got a chance to know what he'd lost. I suppose we are lucky in that regard."

"He is obsessed with buying a woman for the brotherhood, wants us to have a chance. To make love, father sons; hell, to let us even see a woman," Zurden stretched out, obviously growing tired, "every spare pelt or scrap of meat, he sells. Hoping that soon he'll have enough. He is no where close to goal. At this rate it'll be a hundred years before he can even contemplate it. Yet he still fights day and night, because he does not know anything else; does not have much else."

The irony was not lost on her. She knew how hilariously incorrect that statement was. He had seen a woman, even better a female. Practically kidnapped her and yet remained so tragically unaware of how close he was to the exotic creature that was her.

A heavy feeling weighed in her heart; guilt. Was she selfish? Had she chosen herself over others, over them? Over these innocent males, who had no other chance to start a family.

No. She decided. It was not her fault. Her mother only wanted to give her options, a choice that she herself never had. She would honor those wishes.

Zurden gave a toothy half smile, "he will be beyond elated when he meets you. Your status, whether you like it or not, has power. He may actually get his wish; I am sure Qaris has already started drafted a letter to the Draconic Council, informing them of your allegiance."

She couldn't pull herself away from the thoughts that drifted through her mind. The emotions behind them. Emotions that made her soul itself burn with guilt.

"What about you? Do you long for a woman?" her voice was soft, too soft if she wanted to keep up her façade.

"I do not know. . . Me and my other brothers have only seen one, whilst we passed a market many years ago," he seemed lost in thought, "but I'm sure it would be a great joy."

Her mouth worked faster than her wits, "what would happen if a female was found? One that survived the Demise?"

Zurden stilled, unnerved by her question, "Sarros. . . Do you know something? Do you know of a female that lives?" His voice was horrifyingly calm.

His true emotions laid behind a pane of glass she could hear cracking further with each passing breath.

He continued, "because if you do-"

She cut him off, "No! Gods no! I just wondered what would've happened if the queen's daughter had lived," she paused, staving off the cringe that came with lying through her teeth, "you said you're of House Hyperion, and their heir was supposed to be married to her - and I assume that's you. I was just curious what would've happened."

She wanted to punch herself in the face. What a clueless idiot she was, running her mouth like that. Almost getting herself caught.

"Ah, well there are a few answers. If the queen's daughter, or really any female for that matter, had lived and somehow survived the Demise, I suppose her life have been the same as her mother's before her. She would be given mates when she came of age, and she would spend her days with them and her children. As females always have done," he said, "but if one was miraculously found tomorrow, I assumed she'd be brought to council, and assigned mates, like every female before her. Probably members of this brotherhood, as we remain the youngest and strongest males. Not to mention our excellent breeding; most of us yield from the highest houses. But, considering how you have made yourself known, she'd probably be given to you."

"Given? What of choice? What if she didn't want to be reduced to merely an object for breeding?" Zara's words were quiet, she thought that perhaps she could grow to somewhat trust these males.

"Choice? Every female choses that life. It is their responsibility and their great honour to bear the next generation of dragons," she could see in his eyes that he wholeheartedly believed that.

Her temper got the better of her, facade be damned, "then you know nothing of the world."

She could only of her mother, the pain she had to endure, "the queen was given no choice in her life. Her mates were chosen before even her mother had been born. She had no choice. No choice in what her life would be. No choice in who she could love. No choice in when she would love. . . She was forced on her back when she was 15, by her mates who were decades, even centuries older than her. She was a child. And yet you still believe she had a choice?"

He paused, and something in his throat bobbed as he swallowed his words, "the queen wasn't 15, she was of age."

"She was not. My father had to watch his child sister be raped in a public ceremony! No one helped her, no one cared. They cheered and laughed and celebrated. Saying things like 'pray that the queen honours us with a child', 'what an honour it is to her'. Even while she cried and screamed at them to stop," she fumed, and bit back the sobs that urged forward. She remembered so vividly how her uncle had broken in tears while telling her the story, "there is no honour in that."

Zurden's eyes started downcast, unwilling to meet hers.

He pondered to himself, "Why? Why would they do that? How could the council allow it."

"They authorized and oversaw it. The Draconic Council is not devised of good people," she huffed, "maybe it is a blessing that the females died in the Demise. It freed them from their prisons."

His head shot up, "do not say that. The Demise was no blessing. My mother died slowly and painfully; she wanted to live, and to recover. She loved her children, her mates; she loved her family."

"Perhaps. . ." She wouldn't argue with him. Didn't have to the heart to tell him of the letter her uncle had one received from the Lady Hyperion. The one that begged him to kill her if she began to recover from the illness. That she couldn't stand being near her mates, nor look at her children; ones born of hatred, any longer.

Zara has always wondered why the Lady was so determined to die. She had heard tales of how vicious the Lord was, but also tales of how much he loved his mate; how he chose to lay down his pride for her. What of that was truth and what was lie?

Zara was tired; too tired to continue the conversation. It was not her responsibility to inform Zurden of the true workings of the world, that was responsibility alone. At least she had planted a seed, something that might lead him to search for the truth himself.

She gave him a nod, as she rose from her spot, "good night, Zurden."

"Goodnight," he murmured back, staring even more intently into the fire.

She left him there, and made her way to the tent, not interested in sleeping next the pile of dragons that lied on the other side of camp.

She slept soundly that night, a surprising reprieve from the nightmares that usually haunted her dreams.