A Crown Of Blades(ARTK, Book 3)

Chapter 121-122

Anug 6th,3330 A.G

 
Home. It looked exactly as he imagined it might, from the farm fields (granted, smaller than the main homes/cities with larger populations to feed)- to the people and cottages that didn't appear any larger than the tip of his thumb, it had everything Bera lacked. People he could consider his family, people who would help him escape if a situation ever called for it- people who wouldn't dare to push his wife or children out if he died. He'd built this place from the ground up( granted, with the funds of Tiffan Raynerus's father)- and it'd certainly paid off.

One day, his brother would know the same pain he'd caused Aenor. One day, Aenor swore- he would inflict it. He loved the man, but he were a dragon lord now and as such he could not let something as small as exile keep him from the place of his birth.

For now.... He would focus on what the high priestess had told him to: his wife.

He brought his dragon down slowly, listening to and watching the screams or fascinated stares(far more than there'd been in dedor, considering population). He did not land until there were a large enough area in the courtyard, until the screaming from those three or four stopped and all that remained were those who'd stopped what they were doing.

One servant woman hadn't budged from the spot she were in- a couple paces from the dragon's face. She were not afraid as she stared into it's eyes, did not back away or even look at her lord- no.

Instead she dared to reach a hand out, treating Vaelaynth as little more than an overgrown angry horse. He made that noise Aenor couldn't quite describe that indicated annoyance- but then he were leaning into the woman's touch, tilting his head as if she'd found a spot.

The woman smiled- he could swear Vaelaynth smiled, and then everything else faded as he locked eyes with her.

He dismounted the dragon and stopped to talk to the woman for just a moment.

"Take these to my chambers." He said, handing her the bag and then the largest egg. "Marigold- only my chambers. I would not like to burn one of our most loyal servants."

"Of course not-" Marigold mumbled. "I would not dare."

She stopped petting the dragon long enough to do ask asked, carefully wrapping her arms around the larger egg after looping the bag over her shoulder. Neither were particularly heavy, but as she weren't a very large woman and served as Krea's handmaiden more oft than not- she looked like she were struggling.

Aenor ran to his wife so quickly any witnesses would've claimed he had the gods behind him, and he would have kept his arms around her an hour or more- were she not holding both of their squirming children. It could be ignored a few moments; and Tillie did the same as she clung to him- but in his time away the children had somehow managed to become more wild.

Geffri were the worst, being so young that he could not read most situations- and so young that it could still be called humorous. In the span of five moments he'd pulled on his mother's ear, then his father's, slapped his brother, eaten his hair- and jumped out of their arms and started to run as fast as he could for the open gate(that were far away enough he never could've made it.)

One of the common farmer snatched him up so fast, flailing and all- and promptly returned him to his parents. He then proceeded to try and climb one of the support beams on the stables while his parents were talking; but they simply allowed that. There were enough around that if he got seriously hurt he likely wouldn't die(including a skilled witch of the healing arts). Tillie looked tired from being more of a mother than most noble women were in their children's entire lives; Aenor ll were nearly asleep(but still fighting it by shifting the way he laid on his mother every few moments)- and Aenor needed to speak to his wife.