Light My Fire by G. A. Aiken
Elina glanced off, but when she looked back at him, she asked, “How did you steal whole turkey and no one notice?”
“Skills. Very impressive skills.”
Var tracked his mother down in the library. It was a dark but vast room, its winding length reaching deep into the castle. His mother often found the farthest spot and settled in to get real work done. The only ones who ever bothered her here were Var, Frederik, or his mother’s assistant.
As he’d known he would, Var found his mother sitting on the floor, her back against a wall. Books, scrolls, and unused parchment surrounded her. Her spectacles had been pushed up so that they now rested on her forehead rather than her nose.
He sat down beside her and picked up one of the scrolls. He read through the information quickly and, after a few minutes, his mother asked, “So what do you think?”
“I think that the Salebiri family grows in power. And we should be greatly concerned. But if we can get an alliance in place with the Riders of the Steppes . . . that will be nothing but good for us.”
“And?”
Var turned things over in his mind before adding, “But we should never trust the Riders. Not fully. Unlike the Northlanders, their loyalties can be bought with enough gold and jewels. They talk of loyalty and honor, but only to their own people. Outsiders are fair game.”
Grinning, his mother put her arms around his shoulders and hugged him tightly, kissing his forehead.
Although Var never said it, he adored his mother. She’d given him the tools necessary to think. To analyze. To treat one’s mind like a muscle no different from the ones in his arms or legs. How could he not love her more than any being he’d ever known?
This love of Dagmar Reinholdt was, perhaps, the only thing he and Var’s father had in common.
With her arms still around him, his mother asked, “So what brings you looking for me this day?”
“I’ve come to ask, again, about going to live with Uncle Bram. At least for a little while. Until he finds a new assistant.”
“You detest your father that much?”
“I don’t detest him. I just can’t stand him. And my uncles aren’t much better, except Uncle Fearghus, and that’s only because we barely speak to each other. They are distractions, Mother. How can I hope to learn more when they’re busy causing problems? The constant arguing. The constant fighting. The way their voices carry beyond what I would call acceptable levels of discourse. If only you and my aunts lived here, this wouldn’t be a problem. But you don’t. You live with them. And my sisters, who seem to make no other sound but high-pitched screeching. I don’t know how you tolerate it.”
“You forget where I come from. You’ve met your uncles in the north. They make your sisters seem like whispering willows in the breeze.”
“All I ask for is a chance to know what it’s like to enjoy civilized dinner discussions. To not have those discussions dissolve into yet another episode of who can slam my father’s head the hardest against the table or wall. Of not having to constantly think to myself, ‘Well . . . Father did deserve that.’ Uncle Bram is more than happy to take me on as his protégé, and I want the chance to work with him. Really work with him. Not just spend five or ten minutes with him when he comes by Garbhán Isle, only to lose him to something else Aunt Annwyl did to piss off another royal that Uncle Bram then has to fix.”
Her arms tightened a bit around his shoulders. “I don’t want to lose you.”
“I’m going to Uncle Bram’s, Mum, not off to war.”
“You have a point, but—”
His mother’s words were abruptly cut off when they heard a crash outside the castle walls. Var quickly got to his feet, then grabbed his mother’s hands and helped her to her own. Together, they rushed down the aisle of books until they reached a small window. Var pulled over a chair and stood on it so he could see as well as his mother. Their heads pressed together, they watched Aunt Annwyl yell at the stonemason she’d hired to create the new structure she’d been building behind the castle. It wasn’t even connected. It stood alone and rather tall.
“Everyone has been trying to figure out what she’s building,” Var said. “Do you know?”
“No. She’s told no one. Not even your uncle Fearghus. I asked him and he just looked terrified.”
“The rumor is that she’s creating a tower. For her enemies. When she’s not ready to kill them right away. That she plans to torture them there. Do you think that’s true, Mum? Do you think this is for the Salebiris?”
“I really don’t know.”
“You’ll need Uncle Bram even more now to help keep the peace where we can. And then, one day, I’ll do it.”
“I don’t want to lose you, Var.”
Var faced his mother. “By all reason, Mum, I’m going to Uncle Bram’s, not riding into battle. He’s not even a half-hour’s flight from here if the wind is with whoever is carrying me.”
“I don’t appreciate your condescending tone, Unnvar.”
“Because I sound too much like you?”
“Yes.”
“Let’s face it, Mum. I need to learn what I can from Uncle Bram because you can’t teach me all that you know until I’m at least eighteen winters. I mean, you could start now, but that leads to a moral dilemma I’m sure neither of us wants to deal with.”
His mother glanced off. “Your grandmother did warn me not to spread my evil to her grandson, which I took rather personally considering how many times my evil has helped that She-dragon.”
“At least talk to Uncle Bram for me.”
“All right. I’ll talk to him. But I promise nothing.”
“Thank you.”
Var hugged his mother, but before either could pull away, another crash outside had them turning back to the small window, where they could see Aunt Annwyl point a finger at the stonemason.
“Don’t think for a second I won’t have you pull all this down and start again. I’m the queen!” she announced. “I can do that!”
That made Var snort, but his mother quickly admonished, “We shouldn’t laugh.”
But they did anyway.
Chapter Twenty-Two
As Celyn suggested, they “swept through” the Annaig Valley, cutting through a few of the border towns. And each one had what Elina now termed “Penis Temples,” but unlike the Southland cities and towns, there were no other temples. No other gods worshipped in the area. At least not openly.
Elina also noticed the same military presence everywhere. Their armor, shields, and capes bore the benign image of flowers—unlike Annwyl’s coat of arms, which had two dragons facing each other and two swords clashing behind them—but the soldiers were well-trained, well-armed, and extremely dangerous.
Celyn tried to ride close to the penis temples so that he could get a closer look without going inside, but Elina held him back. She’d felt right away that standing out, being noticed, would do nothing for them. In fact, before they hit the first town, Elina had changed back into her rugged Outerplains wear and told Celyn to make sure his fur cloak covered everything on him, including his face.
To her surprise, he hadn’t debated her demand, simply done as she’d bid. She could only assume that he’d sensed it too. Whatever “it” might be.
They could have gone farther into Annaig Valley and still cut through to Outerplains, but Elina didn’t want to do that. She had enough to worry about, knowing she’d be facing Glebovicha soon. She wasn’t ready to deal with whatever was going on in this seemingly benign valley with its beautiful rolling hills and explosion of flowers. Flowers that managed to bloom even as winter began to crash down on all of them.
Without any fuss, Celyn followed Elina in a shorter arc through Annaig Valley, and by late evening they’d crossed into Outerplains territory. They kept going until Elina could no longer see the valley they’d left behind. And that was when she suggested setting up camp for the evening.
“You all right?” Celyn asked her before they dismounted from t
“I am better now.”
“You felt unsafe in Annaig Valley, didn’t you?”
“You did not?”
“I am a dragon, Elina.”
“So?”
“So . . . I can’t just admit that I feel unsafe. Even when I do.”
“Then you blame on me?”
“Aye. That’s exactly what I do.”
Rolling her eyes, Elina dismounted. “Such a proud race you come from, Dolt.”
The dragon grinned. “We like it.”
He dismounted and looked around. “So where do we go from here?”
“Now? We sleep.”
“Out here? There are barely any trees. It’s just empty space and grass.”
“It is the Steppes. There is little else.”
“There’s no town nearby where we can get a hot meal . . . and a warm bed?”
“We have warm bed.” She lifted up her bedroll. “See?”
“And the horses?”
“There is creek over there. Can you not hear it? And it is the Steppes. There is more than enough grass for them. Snow has barely touched most of it.”
“And if we decide to have sex again?”
Elina shrugged. “We fuck right here.”
“In front of everybody?”
“We will be like animals.”
“Except that we’re not animals.” He thought on that a moment. “Well . . . I’m not. I’m a dragon. I like shelter.”
“What is different from here than where we fuck before?”
“Trees. Dense, shielding trees.”
“You are spoiled.”
“Elina—”
“If you want shelter”—she pointed at the mountains far off in the distance—“you can go there and get shelter. Fight for space among the dragons of the Outerplains. I am sure they like company.”
“We both know that Outerplains dragons do not like company. They’re antisocial miscreants.”
“I do not know what that means, but you are probably right.”
Elina got a small campfire started first. Once that was done, she set out her bedroll and retrieved fresh water from the creek. Her horse, now back on its own territory, drank from the creek and began to indulge in the grass without any prompting from Elina.
Retrieving dried pork and bread from her saddlebag, she sat down on her bedroll and began to eat. That was when she noticed that Celyn was still on his horse.
Both horse and rider looked so out of place, she couldn’t help but smile.
“What are you doing?” she asked.
“Trying to come up with other options.”
“There are other options but none that make sense.” She shrugged. “You might as well get used to this, Dolt. This will be our life until we reach tribes. A life without big, shielding trees.”
“Aren’t you worried, though?”
“Worried? About what?”
“An attack.”
“Is that what has you looking so fussy?”
“I’m not a human baby.”
“Look around you, Celyn.”
“I have been. There’s no protection for us if we’re set upon.”
“And we cannot be set upon without seeing them first. And hearing them.” She pressed her hand against the ground. “Even their footsteps will come through the ground of the Steppes, and we will feel their approach.” She took a bite of her pork. “By the time any warriors get near us, we can be ready to fight or, if necessary, you can fly us away or burn them to embers with your flame.”
She again patted the ground beside her. “Now come. Sit beside me. I will play with your cock while we eat.”
Elina hadn’t even finished chewing the second bite of her food before the dragon suddenly dove into place next to her. A smile on his handsome face, his eyebrows wiggling in anticipation.
He was adorably pathetic.
“Take care of your horse first, Dolt.”
“Take care of him?”
“He cannot spend all night wearing saddle and equipment.”
“Aye, but—”
“I am not going anywhere. My hands will still be here to play with cock when you get back.”
“Promise?”
Elina looked out into the dark night of the thousands of leagues of Steppes lands and asked, “Where in all hells would I go?”
Celyn led his horse to the creek before stripping off his saddle and bridle. He carried the equipment over to where Elina had placed her extremely simple saddle and dumped the whole lot there.
Then he sort of . . . dove at her again.
It wasn’t pretty. Or elegant. Just kind of desperate.
When he’d woken up that morning, he honestly hadn’t thought he’d have the energy for anything after their long day of riding. But his body had different plans once she’d said the word “cock.”
No euphemisms for Elina of the Too Long Name. She was as straightforward and brutal about sex as she was about words. Something he was minding less and less these days. He liked her open honesty. Her strange turn of phrase that had nothing to do with the common language of the Southlander not being her first language.
But what he really liked was how, when he tackled her in his wild dive, she simply rolled with him until she had him on his back. They’d rolled away from their small campsite and their warm bedrolls, but neither seemed to care as they began to wrestle in the dirt and snow.
Nothing violent or angry. But their clothes did manage to go flying until they were both naked and Celyn was buried deep inside her. He had her pinned to the ground, his hands holding her arms over her head.
He leaned down and kissed her, but abruptly pulled back and accused, “You faithless cow, you have ale! And you’ve shared none with me!”
Elina hiked one leg up high on his hip and then lifted and turned until Celyn was flat on his back, but still buried deep inside her.
“You want my ale,” she told him, “you have to give me what I want.”
“And what’s that?”
“A good ride.” She pulled her hands from his grip and slapped them against his chest. She began to rock her hips against him, her pussy squeezing and releasing as she writhed on top of him, her head thrown back, her pale hair blowing wildly around her face from the harsh Steppes winds that she didn’t seem to notice one bit.
“Yes, dragon,” she growled, “just like that.”
Celyn gripped her hips with both hands. “Who’s riding who when you’re on top, female?”
In reply, she squeezed hard on his cock, using just those muscles of hers, and Celyn’s back arched as he fought his desire to come now. Right this moment. Damning her and her own enjoyment. But he knew that’s what she wanted. To prove him weaker. And he wasn’t about to let that happen. Not when it came to sex.
So first he fought for control of his own body . . . then he fought for control of hers.
It wasn’t easy. He might be bigger and, as a dragon, considerably stronger. Even when he was in this weaker human body. But the woman had a knowledge of balance that often gave her a surprising edge. If he wanted to win this round—winning being relative when it came to pleasure—he would have to take away her balance.
Once he had her on her back again, Celyn stood, his arms around her hips so that he brought her with him. She laughed when she had to press her hands against the ground so that her head didn’t accidentally slam into it. While she was busy with that, he moved his arms down so that he gripped Elina high on her legs. Once he had her secure, he began to fuck her hard, her laughter turning to moans, her toes curling against his back as he took her.
And, even better, with his long arms, he was able to press his thumb against her clit and rub. Gently at first until he felt her legs tighten around his waist, then a little harder, until her entire body was shuddering and she was screaming out into the night.
See? He’d won this round.
He pulled out of Elina, but only long enough to flip her around and set her down on h
Elina screamed in rage and tried to push his hand away, but he refused. Then, her pussy tightened around him again as another orgasm—too soon after the last—rolled through her. His own climax exploded around him, and Celyn threw his head back, as flames yet again lit up the dark.
When he was done, when he’d squeezed the last from his body, he dropped them both to the ground, side by side. He on his back, Elina on her stomach. She reached over and slapped his arm.
“Bastard,” she complained.
“I know.”
Chapter Twenty-Three
Elina awoke the next morning with the two suns rising in the distance and Celyn’s head between her thighs.
He took long, lingering licks of her, his tongue ending with a little lash against her clit.
She stretched, briefly thinking she could have someone wake her up like this every day.
“Good morn to you,” Celyn said between licks.
“And good morn to you,” was what Elina meant to say, but all that actually came out was, “Uh.”
Chuckling a bit, Celyn gripped her ankles and pushed them back so that her knees bent. Then he spread her thighs wide, and pinned her down with his shoulders. His languid, easy licks turned into harsher ones until he took her clit gently between his teeth and used his tongue to tease it into a pulsating climax that had Elina writhing beneath the big bastard.
Elina dug her hands into his hair and held on as he took her over once, then again. She was covered in sweat by the time he mounted her, his cock pushing its way past pulsating muscles. They both gasped when he was buried deep, Elina’s arms around his body as he rocked into her. He kissed her neck, then bit it, the tip of his tongue then soothing the sting. He did it again and again, her body writhing every time he did so.
He was learning to play her body, and she wasn’t sure that she minded, which confused her. She’d been raised to have control of the men she fucked. But this wasn’t a man teasing her ear with his lips. This was a dragon. And she’d quickly learned there was no telling dragons anything.