Fic: Ransom, Part 1a, original, PG-13
Thursday, August 16th, 2007 04:46 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
tsaikoI have received confirmation that my ![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
snail_mail_porn partner has received my package. SCORE! My package has been slightly delayed for a very good reason (involving a hospital o_O). So I wait eagerly for my own package.
Despite my best efforts (involving screaming at the screen "MAKE WITH THE PORN ALREADY") this never got above a PG-13. There's always the sequel, which has already been started. So here it is, in all it's 28 page, 11,769 word glory.
EDIT: ENTRY TOO LONG? Damn. I'm going to have to divide it into two parts. ^^;
Ransom was sick and tired of dragon hunters trekking through the mountains and coming into his valley.
He was standing on a ledge of granite, watching the latest batch of idiots with more greed than sense run back to the nearest village as quick as they could. Ransom hissed at their back sides. And take your dead with you! I don't need any more garbage cluttering up my valley.
At this distance, there was no way four men could have heard him. It still seemed to Ransom that they moved just a little bit faster through the last of the season's first snow. That made him happy.
It was the only thing about this whole mess that did make him happy.
His hiss deepened into a full fledged growl as he took to flight. Three beats of his powerful wings, and Ransom was able to catch a rising thermal. The sun was pleasantly warm against his back despite the bitter cold of the early winter winds. Even that wasn't enough to improve his mood.
That's the fifth group just this month. What is going on? Val and her prince should be better at keeping these twits away by now.
When he was high enough, Ransom folded his wings and dove. The wind tore by him with a high pitched whine and beneath him the blue waters of a lake rushed up to greet him. A flick of his tail adjusted the angle of his descent. He did not slow down one bit.
The water broke around him in a riot of foam. Ransom kept his wings pinned to his side and used his feet to paddle towards the entrance of his cave. No one but Val and her prince knew where his lair was. That was fine by him. It made it easier to terrorize the dragon hunters while not getting caught.
He pushed himself through the hole that was the lake entrance to his lair, paddled upwards, and broke the surface. Dragons could deal with little oxygen for long periods of time. That fact came in handy when Ransom was diving through the lake.
I need to talk to Val. She might know what's going on. And if she doesn't, she'll find out. As a rule, Ransom disliked humans. Val was an exception. Her prince was also an exception because Val would be upset if he ate him.
As he climbed out of the water, Ransom shook himself to get the excess water off. The floor to his cave was stone tile, meaning that he could dig his claws in without worrying about churning up any mud. At one point it had been a temple of some sort. Now it was his.
Normally, Ransom would take a moment to admire the marble floors. It was as white as his scales, though not nearly as pretty. The marble looked like the moon or newly fallen snow. His scales were pale, but they were also iridescent with all sorts of colors: blues and golds and silvers.
On the other side of a small pond that was currently filled with loose sapphires, amethysts, and emeralds was a set of chests. Ransom nudged one open and huffed at the pearls inside. He loved pearls, especially white ones, but they weren't what he was looking for.
Stupid, stupid dragon hunters. I can't even appreciate my hoard because of them. The second chest had some cloth in it and a large glass ball. I knew I'd put it into one of these chests. It always pleased him when he remembered where he had stashed part of his hoard.
Ransom carefully picked up the glass ball in his mouth and walked over to where a four foot high pillar stood. There was a depression in the top that would prevent the glass ball from rolling around. It wasn't a perfect fit – the pillar had been designed to hold something sacred that had long been lost – but it was good enough. Once it was settled into place, Ransom sat down and concentrated on the glass.
He didn't have to wait long.
The center of the glass ball went from clear to cloudy. When the clouds cleared, Ransom could see the inside of Val's workroom. She was in the middle of decanting potions from a large jar into smaller vials that were then sealed with wax. It was obvious that she was so engrossed in her work that she didn't notice Ransom.
Do I startle her and watch the resulting fireworks as she drops the potion or do I be polite and get on her good side? Decisions, decisions. I am asking her to help me with a problem. But it would be so much fun to watch the explosion.
"I know what you're thinking, Ransom. If you don't wait till I'm done with this, I swear I'll turn every single one of your pearls into frogs. Again."
:You have no sense of humor.: His tone was accusatory.
Ransom knew he could still startle Val, but it wouldn't be as much fun now. She knew he was there. She knew what he was capable of. She also knew where he lived and how to mess with his hoard. No, it would be better to wait at this point.
Just as Ransom was beginning to fidget, Val finished with whatever potion she was working with. "Okay. Done now. What do you want Ransom?"
:There are dragon hunters coming up to my valley and trying to kill me.: Any good mood he had from thinking about startling Val instantly disappeared. He growled low in his throat. :I thought you and your Prince were going to take care of this problem?:
Val sighed. "Damn. I knew things had gotten too quiet lately. They must have convinced Baron Gosse to open his lands and let them through. We kept refusing them passage."
:Well can't you do something about it?: This was not what he wanted to hear.
"No. Access to most of the passes requires going through our land, but there's a small pass just beyond our northern border in Baron Gosse's lands. We can't do anything about it." Val pushed the strands of blonde hair that had come loose from her braid out of her face.
:Why can't you just take control of the other pass as well?: Ransom lowered himself, wings impressively spread open, until he was glaring into the crystal ball.
"It would be the equivalent of trying to take another dragon's hoard, that's why."
Ransom drew back as if he'd been smacked. :Oh.: That put everything in perspective. :Why are they so determined to kill me all of a sudden?: Val flinched at that. :You know something, don't you?:
"They don't want you dead. They just want one of your scales," Val replied. "And before you get all huffy, I just found out about this today."
:One of my scales?: Ransom hissed folding his wings until they lat against his body. :They can't have my scales. They’re mine. What kind of fool would try and take them from me?:
"The kind of fool that is trying to impress a princess, that's who. Princess Celene has said that she will only marry someone who can bring her the scale of a dragon the color of the moon. Which, by the way, is what people refer to you as," Val said. Ransom took a moment to preen, even if he was much prettier than the moon. "The Dragon of the Moon. Anyway, Princess Celene's father is very rich and very powerful, so he's decided to go along with this whole idea."
:This is ridiculous.:
"I know. You have no idea how many idiots Aiden and I had to send packing before they started going through Baron Gosse's land. Every single one of them wanted nothing more than money, power and land. Not a single one had even seen Princess Celene, much less knew her."
:Hopeless romantic.: Ransom watched as Val blushed at the accusation. It was half the reason he knew her at all. :Is there anyway to make them stop?:
"Let them take one of your scales?" Val sighed as Ransom growled at the notion. "Fine, fine. I didn't think you'd take that suggestion well. Next best thing is for you to lay low for awhile until this whole thing blows over."
:I'm just supposed to let these idiots tromp through my valley?: Ransom was not pleased by this suggestion either.
"It's not like they will find your horde. It's too well hidden for that."
No dragon was immune to flattery, especially when it was true. :I see your point.: Ransom clicked his claws against the marble floor - tick tick tick - as he thought. :It can't be that hard to avoid those idiots.:
"And it is almost winter. Snow will soon discourage all but the most determined from going into the mountains." Val bit her lip, thinking. "I think this is a good plan. It should hold until at least spring, and by then hopefully all this fuss will have died down."
Ransom snorted. :One should hope.: Then he turned his head to the side, giving the glass ball a sly look. :So when are you and your Prince going to have hatchlings?:
"Ransom!"
***
The problem with staying out of sight and ignoring the less than steady stream of idiots that stumbled across his valley was that it was very boring. At least before there was something Ransom could do. Terrorizing fools at least made him feel productive.
Now all he could do was watch. It wasn't very entertaining.
At least Val was right. The snows have cut down on the numbers.
It still looked like autumn in the lower reaches. Ransom had flown down out of curiosity to look at the leaves of crimson and auburn still on the trees. In the mountains though, winter was well on its way to covering the world in white. There was at least three inches of snow on the ground now, and it no longer melted completely between each storm.
All this snow does make it easier to hide. Four days ago, he'd laid down in a snowbank during a brief snow shower. The dragon hunters had come within feet of him and never noticed. When they left, Ransom had almost hurt himself laughing.
It would have been more fun to surprise them and watch them run.
"Dragon!"
Ransom's head came up at the challenge. He knew that voice. There was only one dragon hunter with the balls to blithely charge into his valley and announce himself to the world. The only dragon hunter Ransom had any respect for. The only dragon hunter to ever have beaten him.
Pace.
With a low growl, Ransom slid off the ledge he was laying on and began to slowly pick ways way down the cliff. He couldn't see Pace or the thrice damned horse the dragon hunter rode, but that didn't mean anything. If I can't see them, then I know that he can't see me.
The dragon was grateful for the snow as he moved low to the ground. Not only did it help him blend into the landscape – really, there was no hiding his white scales when everything was green – but it also muffled the sound of his steps. Dragons could move with deceptive quietness, but every little bit helped when it came to facing Pace.
"Don't tell me some one else managed to take you out, dragon. I will be very put out if I came all this way only to find out that you are already dead." Ransom snarled in fury. That arrogant bastard!
Half way down the mountain, Ransom changed his mind about where he was going. Pace's voice was coming from the entrance of his valley, which was a narrow pass with steep sides. The small stream that fed his lake had carved it, and later someone had put in a wide path. If Ransom could come up behind the dragon hunter, it would be the perfect place for an ambush.
Imagining the look on Pace's face when he turned to find Ransom attacking from behind almost made up for the fact that he couldn't respond to the dragon hunter's comments. Almost.
"I guess that the stupid dragon did get himself killed. It was only a matter of time really." The fool was talking to his horse like it could understand him. Ransom bared his teeth and continued to slink towards the valley entrance. The words were getting easier to understand as he got closer. "Humans are obviously superior."
Oh that is it.
He launched himself forward, his wings going down and back in one powerful stroke for extra speed. Ransom cleared the edge and dove into the pass. His eyes scanned the snow looking for the smallest speck of color.
Nothing.
I swear I heard his voice come from this direction. Pace should have stood out against the paleness of the snow. Ransom back winged hard to slow his descent, and the wind from his wings churned the snow. It was only once he'd landed that it dawned on him that he should have paid attention to the tracks leading into the valley.
There goes the element of surprise.
Ransom growled and paced, ignoring the cold bite of the snow under his feet. Trees grew right next to the stream and bordered the path, and the brush was thicker here because there was more light. The dragon hunter could be anywhere. Why can't I see him? There's snow on the ground and one of his colors is red.
The thing about snow was it not only muffled the sounds he made, but it also muffled the sounds of other. Ransom didn't hear the charge until the dragon hunter was almost on him. He whirled around and had just enough time to grab the lance with his teeth before it dug into his shoulder. The dragon jerked the lance hard, hoping to unseat the dragon hunter.
Pace was too smart for the move to work. He immediately let go of the lance. His horse, a blue roan, turned neatly to put distance between them and Ransom. The dragon took a swipe at them but knew they were too far away.
"Took you long enough, Dragon. I was getting bored," Pace said. He was dressed mostly in gray and white with only a strip of red high on his left arm. Ransom tossed the lance into the trees and hissed.
:Tricky bastard. What happened to all that red you deck yourself out in?: Ransom didn't bother circling. There wasn't enough room. Instead he tried to make sure he wouldn't be pinned if Pace mounted another charge. :You go on and on about being honorable, and then you go and change the rules.:
"You slander me, foul beast, and I will not stand for it. I am honorable." Pace drew his sword. "Only a fool would ride into battle in the middle of winter wearing red, and I am no fool."
He expected the attack, could see it in the sudden tenseness of the horse Pace rode, but the ferocity was unexpected. Ransom was immediately put on the defensive. The dragon tried to graze the dragon hunter, their battles were always till first blood, but every time the sword was in the way.
It's the damn trees. Ransom couldn't use his wings for counter balance under the trees.He has the advantage as long as we're under them.
It wasn't much of an advantage. Pace had to be careful not to get his sword caught in any branches when he swung. But the dragon hunter had obviously battled in such conditions before. Ransom was usually smart enough to make sure he was in an open area.
My temper is going to get me killed one of these days. I guess even perfect beings must have flaws.
Ransom crouched low against the ground, letting the swing go over his head, and then lunged for the horse. It tried to back up, but the ground was slippery. The horse's back feet slipped. He took advantage of that and knocked the roan sideways. Pace was too busy attempting to keep his seat to attack, but he watched Ransom like a hawk.
He didn't press his advantage. Instead, Ransom turned and ran. Dragons were never as graceful on the ground as they were in the air, but they were still fast. The dragon could hear Pace's shouts of outrage.
The trees open up some farther ahead. If I can get there, I should be fine. If I can get a little further down to where the meadow is, even better. Ransom bared his teeth, winding between trunks of trees.
Some sixth sense warned him of danger. Ransom turned quickly, his claws skittering against ice crusted snow, to snap. Pace's horse reared and lashed at him. He managed to dodge, but it was a near thing.
"Coward," Pace yelled at him.
:Only a fool continues to fight on ground where he is at a disadvantage, and I am no fool.: Ransom deliberately used the same wording and inflection Pace had used before. The dragon hunter gritted his teeth and renewed his attacks.
In the end, it was random bad luck which caused Ransom to lose. He was preparing to attack when his back foot broke through the thin layer of ice on a small pond covered in snow. Pond was too generous a word though. Puddle would be more accurate.
He'd shrieked when he went down, scrambling to get purchase. Pace had taken the opportunity to score him right across his nose with his sword. The shallow wound stung. Ransom hissed.
"First blood. Do you yield?" Pace shouted. He always drew back, as if this would be the time that Ransom attacked rather than honor his word.
:I yield.: Ransom growled. He was never a good loser. :What is your boon?:
Because really, that's what this whole thing was about. Whoever won would demand that the other obtain something for them. Ransom had come up with the idea when he wanted something from the village below. He couldn't very well go down and get it while a dragon, and he'd be damned if he was going to put up with people's stupid rules by assuming another form.
It had seemed like the perfect solution. Ransom had approached the first reasonable dragon hunter he'd found and challenged him. Winner asked the loser for a boon. Pace had stipulated that it was only to first blood. Then they had fought.
If I knew I would actually lose to him, I never would have approached Pace.
"The Princess Celene has requested that someone bring her a scale from the dragon the color of the moon," Pace said. "Since I am the only one capable of such a thing, I have taken upon myself to complete the quest."
For a long moment, Ransom could only stare at the dragon hunter. Then he shrieked in rage. :That's what this is about? You want to give my scale to a spoiled brat of a princess who uses others for her own purposes? That is the boon you seek?:
Without taking a second to actually think about what he was doing, Ransom reared back on his hind legs, sank his teeth into his chest scale, and yanked one out. It let go with a bright burst of pain. The edge of it was still bloody as he tossed it into the snow.
:There is your scale: Ransom's blood was bright crimson against the snow. Pace's face had paled, his eyes wide with surprise. :Now get out of my valley.:
He didn't wait for a response. Instead Ransom turned and left. The dragon hunter had his boon.
***
In retrospect, pulling a scale from his underbelly was a bad idea. Nearly two weeks later and it still twinged if Ransom moved wrong. It also left a gap in his scales. His beautiful, beautiful scales.
He'd tried whining to Val about it, but she was absolutely no help at all. Instead of being properly sympathetic, she kept questioning him about Pace's involvement. "Pace? As in Sir Pace of Raeburn? What is he doing trying to court Princess Celene?"
:I don't know and I don't care. I gave him my scale and now he's giving it to a whiny Princess. It's not fair.:
"Wait. You just gave him one of your scales?"
:It's part of our agreement.: Then because Val still looked absolutely baffled. :This is not the first time we've fought. It's something of a regular occurrence.:
Then Ransom had had to admit that not only did he fight a dragon hunter as a sort of hobby, but that he also lost to him. Repeatedly. It was humiliating. He wouldn't even bare his belly scales to Val's prince, but he would to some random dragon hunter he'd made a bargain with that had lasted for over two years.
"That still doesn't explain why he is going after Princess Celene. Pace is one of the most sought after knights there is. Princess Celene is wealthy and powerful, but she's not the wealthiest or most powerful that has courted him. Why is he pursuing her over the rest?"
Ransom had cut the spell off after that and thrown the glass ball into a trunk. He'd first challenged Pace because he didn't want to deal with the strange intricacies of human life. He definitely didn't want to hear about them. And of course, there goes my only source of pity.
No wonder he'd been in a foul mood for the last two weeks.
Snow fell more often and drifts over a foot thick gathered in the shadowed nooks. It wasn't snowing now, but it was a close thing. Every once in awhile small flakes would drift downward. Ransom couldn't tell if they were dislodged from the trees by the wind or if they came from the sky.
The cold had never bothered him before, but it did now, burning at the place where his scale was missing like fire. It made Ransom snappish. He would retreat to his lair and his horde, but the snow dulled the worst of the ache from his missing scale. So really, it was just trading one gnawing pain for another.
"At the Gathering o' the Knights, back in years of yore
I watched two ladies get together, doin' it on the floor.
The Queen was in the parlor, eatin' bread and honey
The King was in the chambermaid, and she was in the money.
Four and twenty virgins came down to Ivaness
And when the Gathering was over, there were four and twenty less.
Singin' balls to your partner
Arse against th' wall!
If you canna' get laid on Feasting night
You canna' get laid at all!"
For one brief moment, Ransom refused to believe what he was hearing. It sounded like Pace's voice, but there was no way the knight was singing a bawdy song like that. Off key even. Things like that just did not happen.
The sound of Pace's voice was very loud and seemed to be coming from very near where Ransom had been laying. He didn't bother going airborne. Instead, the dragon walked towards the sound.
Ransom didn't have to walk far. Pace was flat on his back in the middle of the snowy meadow, one foot still caught in the stirrup. His horse was standing still and showing remarkable patience as far as Ransom was concerned. He would have long ago dumped the dragon hunter into a snow bank.
Drunk. He's got to be drunk. There is no other explanation for what I am seeing.
The dragon hunter was laughing at something only someone three sheets to the wind would find funny. Ransom noticed he seemed to be wearing his colors again: a white shirt with a red belt, a heavy cloak with a red wool lining. Pace's pants, cloak, and boots were all black. As he approached, Pace started to sing a few more verses off-key.
"The village carpenter he was there, with his prick of wood
He made it when he lost his own, and it worked just as good!
There was doin's on the porches, and doin's on the stones
You couldna' hear the music for the loud and joyful moans.
Sir Hugh he was there, with his favorite toys:
A dozen beautiful women, and a dozen beautiful..."
The singing died as Ransom came to stand right over the dragon hunter. Glazed blue eyes, almost purple in color, looked up at him. The blue roan snorted and stomped, but didn't move.
"Greetings, Dragon," Pace said. One hand was firmly wrapped around a wineskin and the other reached up towards Ransom. The dragon hunter made grabbing motions. "Come 'ere so I can pet you."
:You smell like a brewery.:
"I'm not drunk," Pace yelled. Ransom forced himself not to rear back. I really wish my nose wasn't as sensitive as it is. How long has he been drinking to smell like that?
:I never said you were drunk. I said you smelled. There's a difference.: Ransom took another step closer, but Pace's horse shied away. Since the dragon hunter's foot was still in the stirrup, he was dragged a few inches. Stupid mule is not going to let me get any closer. Lovely.
"I could see it in your eyes." The dragon hunter regarded him from his vantage point with all the concentration of someone who was well beyond plowed. "You have pretty eyes. Like sapphires surrounded by pearl."
Ransom ducked his head, flattered and flustered and angry at himself for feeling that way. Stop acting like a youngling being courted for the first time! He took a deep breath, and then another. Then Ransom concentrated on trying to figure out a way to get Pace unhooked for his horse. The dragon hunter began humming under his breath.
:Why are you drunk?: Keeping Pace talking would at least keep him from singing. The last thing Ransom wanted to hear was all 101 raunchy verses to the "The Gathering o' the Knights."
"Do you know why the Princess Celene wanted one of your scales?" Pace asked.
:Because she wanted to marry?:
"Because she wanted to marry." Ransom counted backwards from twenty. Patience. He's drunk.
:I never would have guessed.:
"I've had Princesses wanting to marry me before. I was very polite when I turned them down." Pace threw his arm over his eyes and made a sound. It was very much like a sob. Ransom could only stare. "My liege ordered me to finish what I started. A quest is not completed until I claim my reward. He wants me to marry her."
:Truly a fate worse that death.: Ransom knew if he had to marry a Princess, he'd be pretty upset to. Maybe not upset enough to drink himself to death, which was what it smelled like Pace was trying to do. The dragon crooned at Pace's horse, but it was not working. I don't want to eat you. I just want you to stand still long enough for me to dislodge your idiot rider.
It wasn't working. That left Ransom with two choices. He could leave Pace out in the snow and hope someone came looking for the dragon hunter. Sure. And how many are going to risk my wrath or the snows on the off chance he came here?
Or he could go to his horde, find his therion stone, and assume his other form.
I really, really hate being human.
Ten minutes later, Ransom returned. Around his neck was a thin silver chain and hanging from the chain was clear quartz crystal with a sing hole drilled through it. Pace was still in the snow, foot still stuck in the stirrup, only now he was bemoaning his fate to the leaden sky. Wonderful.
It was always strange when Ransom changed. He never liked it. Going from something that was essentially perfect to something that was so very not perfect went against his nature. Power rippled around him until the air shimmered. Then it surged. When the sparkles faded from his eyes, Ransom found himself standing in the snow as a human.
Oh good. I was wearing winter weight clothes last time I changed. And shoes. Thank goodness for the shoes. The shoes in question were thin soled, but they were still better than frostbitten toes. Ransom was dressed in pants, shirt, and a long padded jacket that fell to his knees and was split up the side. Everything had a vaguely Eastern cut to it. He preferred their style of clothing to anything from his native country.
Therion stones were a must for those who could shapeshift. They took whatever their wearer was wearing at the time of the shift and held it within suspended animation until they shifted back. Without them, Ransom would be spending a lot of time destroying clothing and running around naked.
Frostbite in uncomfortable places. Awful. I don't know how werewolves and their kin do it.
Pace didn't seem to notice the change. He didn't notice his horse dragging him either. In fact, he didn't seem to notice anything except the wine skin he was still draining and the litany of sorrows he felt the world had inflicted upon him. Ransom rolled his eyes.
The blue roan noticed though. Ransom watched as the horse's ears came forward and then went immediately back. It stamped its foot and shook its head in warning. The horse was not fooled at all.
You're shy now. Wait till you see what I have in my pockets.
Horses did not like dragons. Even when Ransom, or really any of his kind, assumed a human form they knew something was different. It made them nervous. So Ransom used an age old technique to get the horse to trust him long enough for him to accomplish his goals.
Bribery.
"See?" His voice rasped slightly from disuse and Ransom coughed a few times to clear his throat. He hated the way he sounded as a human. "I have dried apples. It's winter. When was the last time you had apples? At the very least come sniff them."
It didn't take long before the horse was persuaded. While the blue roan ate the apples, Ransom stroked its neck, careful to keep his claw-like fingernails from scratching. When he could, Ransom unhooked Pace's foot from the stirrup. It hit the snow with a soft "whump."
"Oh." It seemed that Pace had finally noticed him. "Who are you? Where's the dragon?"
"He got tired of your whining and sent me to come get you out of the snow," Ransom snapped. The horse jerked at the sound, but he kept a good grip on its reins. "Now get up."
"He never told me he had a friend," Pace said. He gave Ransom a look that the dragon had only seen once before when he'd accidentally eaten a little girl's pony. It made him feel vaguely guilty for no good reason.
"I don't. I'm the dragon, you idiot."
"Are you sure?"
"Yes, I'm sure! I should have just left you to die in the snow. But I didn't. Do you know why? Because I didn't want to have to deal with your smelly corpse in the spring. So get up out of the snow and get back on your damn mule." As if to emphasize his point, Ransom stalked over to where Pace lay, grabbed him by the front of his shirt, and hauled him to his feet.
It was so incredibly unfair that the dragon hunter was taller than him. Why am I so short in this form? Ransom looked up through his white bangs, he really needed to get them cut, and glared. Pace looked down at him in confusion. Then he smiled.
"It really is you. Hello dragon." Then the dragon hunter petted him on the head, like he was a small dog. "You have pretty hair."
I am going to drop lots of loud, clangy things while he has a hangover. Yes. Think of that. Torture instead of simply reaching out an strangling him. "Yes, yes I do. Now get on the horse."
"I don't want to go back," Pace said. Ransom looked up into his eyes and sighed. He was an idiot. A great big idiot who could not just sit there and let someone be miserable.
"I won't take you back. I'll take you to my lair. Now can you please get onto the horse?" That seemed to mollify the dragon hunter. Somehow he managed to get back in the saddle without launching himself completely over the horse. Ransom helped by holding the blue roan's reins, and keeping the horse from turning around and biting its idiot master.
When Pace seemed like he would remain more or less seated, Ransom began to lead the horse towards the lake. Snow began to come down more heavily, and Ransom could hear the steady hiss of it as it fell. It wasn't blinding yet.
Even though Ransom usually entered through the lake, there was another entrance to his lair. He led Pace's horse to it. To anyone else it looked like icy rock dusted with snow. Just another cliff in a valley full of them.
Ransom knew better. He raised the hand that wasn't currently holding the reins, palm facing the stone. Blue runes flared to life. Seconds later, the rock golem got to its feet and took three steps to the right. Then it settled back down until it looked like nothing more than a large, oddly shaped boulder.
Inside the floor was slick with mud. Ransom hissed at the mess. If he'd known it was this bad, he would have cleaned. The dragon never took this way into his lair. It was embarrassing. Hopefully, Pace will be too drunk to remember this.
Before too long, his pants were muddy and he'd almost fallen more than once. The horse was also having a hard time keeping its balance. Pace managed to stay in the saddle. At this point, Ransom was counting that as a minor miracle.
By the time they got to his horde, Pace had passed out. Ransom opened up one of the chambers that had the bed Val had used when she stayed with him. He manhandled Pace into bed, took off his boots and cloak, and made him drink some water. Which he promptly threw up. Growling, Ransom made him drink some more. Thankfully, Pace kept it down this time.
When Ransom lead Pace's horse back outside, the snow had let up again. He worried at his lip. There was no way he could take care of the horse. There was no hay, no grain, and he didn't even know how to take care of the horse in any way, shape or form. It could not stay here.
Dragon hunters were awfully proud of their horses though. A blizzard had been threatening all day, and while it was not snowing hard now, the passes wouldn't stay open for much longer. Winter was here to stay.
Pace isn't going to be pleased. Oh well. He shouldn't have gotten drunk and come into my valley if he didn't want me making decisions for him. Ransom hooked the stirrups so that they wouldn't get caught on anything, loosened the bit, and let the horse go. It looked at him expectantly.
"Go home. They have food for you and don't see you as a meal on hooves," Ransom told it. The blue roan looked at him for a long moment. When no food was forthcoming, it turned around and headed towards the valley entrance.
Good riddance.
Now all he had to worry about was what to do with a cranky dragon hunter in his lair. Luckily, that could wait till morning. Ransom was going to bed.
snail_mail_porn partner has received my package. SCORE! My package has been slightly delayed for a very good reason (involving a hospital o_O). So I wait eagerly for my own package.Despite my best efforts (involving screaming at the screen "MAKE WITH THE PORN ALREADY") this never got above a PG-13. There's always the sequel, which has already been started. So here it is, in all it's 28 page, 11,769 word glory.
EDIT: ENTRY TOO LONG? Damn. I'm going to have to divide it into two parts. ^^;
Ransom was sick and tired of dragon hunters trekking through the mountains and coming into his valley.
He was standing on a ledge of granite, watching the latest batch of idiots with more greed than sense run back to the nearest village as quick as they could. Ransom hissed at their back sides. And take your dead with you! I don't need any more garbage cluttering up my valley.
At this distance, there was no way four men could have heard him. It still seemed to Ransom that they moved just a little bit faster through the last of the season's first snow. That made him happy.
It was the only thing about this whole mess that did make him happy.
His hiss deepened into a full fledged growl as he took to flight. Three beats of his powerful wings, and Ransom was able to catch a rising thermal. The sun was pleasantly warm against his back despite the bitter cold of the early winter winds. Even that wasn't enough to improve his mood.
That's the fifth group just this month. What is going on? Val and her prince should be better at keeping these twits away by now.
When he was high enough, Ransom folded his wings and dove. The wind tore by him with a high pitched whine and beneath him the blue waters of a lake rushed up to greet him. A flick of his tail adjusted the angle of his descent. He did not slow down one bit.
The water broke around him in a riot of foam. Ransom kept his wings pinned to his side and used his feet to paddle towards the entrance of his cave. No one but Val and her prince knew where his lair was. That was fine by him. It made it easier to terrorize the dragon hunters while not getting caught.
He pushed himself through the hole that was the lake entrance to his lair, paddled upwards, and broke the surface. Dragons could deal with little oxygen for long periods of time. That fact came in handy when Ransom was diving through the lake.
I need to talk to Val. She might know what's going on. And if she doesn't, she'll find out. As a rule, Ransom disliked humans. Val was an exception. Her prince was also an exception because Val would be upset if he ate him.
As he climbed out of the water, Ransom shook himself to get the excess water off. The floor to his cave was stone tile, meaning that he could dig his claws in without worrying about churning up any mud. At one point it had been a temple of some sort. Now it was his.
Normally, Ransom would take a moment to admire the marble floors. It was as white as his scales, though not nearly as pretty. The marble looked like the moon or newly fallen snow. His scales were pale, but they were also iridescent with all sorts of colors: blues and golds and silvers.
On the other side of a small pond that was currently filled with loose sapphires, amethysts, and emeralds was a set of chests. Ransom nudged one open and huffed at the pearls inside. He loved pearls, especially white ones, but they weren't what he was looking for.
Stupid, stupid dragon hunters. I can't even appreciate my hoard because of them. The second chest had some cloth in it and a large glass ball. I knew I'd put it into one of these chests. It always pleased him when he remembered where he had stashed part of his hoard.
Ransom carefully picked up the glass ball in his mouth and walked over to where a four foot high pillar stood. There was a depression in the top that would prevent the glass ball from rolling around. It wasn't a perfect fit – the pillar had been designed to hold something sacred that had long been lost – but it was good enough. Once it was settled into place, Ransom sat down and concentrated on the glass.
He didn't have to wait long.
The center of the glass ball went from clear to cloudy. When the clouds cleared, Ransom could see the inside of Val's workroom. She was in the middle of decanting potions from a large jar into smaller vials that were then sealed with wax. It was obvious that she was so engrossed in her work that she didn't notice Ransom.
Do I startle her and watch the resulting fireworks as she drops the potion or do I be polite and get on her good side? Decisions, decisions. I am asking her to help me with a problem. But it would be so much fun to watch the explosion.
"I know what you're thinking, Ransom. If you don't wait till I'm done with this, I swear I'll turn every single one of your pearls into frogs. Again."
:You have no sense of humor.: His tone was accusatory.
Ransom knew he could still startle Val, but it wouldn't be as much fun now. She knew he was there. She knew what he was capable of. She also knew where he lived and how to mess with his hoard. No, it would be better to wait at this point.
Just as Ransom was beginning to fidget, Val finished with whatever potion she was working with. "Okay. Done now. What do you want Ransom?"
:There are dragon hunters coming up to my valley and trying to kill me.: Any good mood he had from thinking about startling Val instantly disappeared. He growled low in his throat. :I thought you and your Prince were going to take care of this problem?:
Val sighed. "Damn. I knew things had gotten too quiet lately. They must have convinced Baron Gosse to open his lands and let them through. We kept refusing them passage."
:Well can't you do something about it?: This was not what he wanted to hear.
"No. Access to most of the passes requires going through our land, but there's a small pass just beyond our northern border in Baron Gosse's lands. We can't do anything about it." Val pushed the strands of blonde hair that had come loose from her braid out of her face.
:Why can't you just take control of the other pass as well?: Ransom lowered himself, wings impressively spread open, until he was glaring into the crystal ball.
"It would be the equivalent of trying to take another dragon's hoard, that's why."
Ransom drew back as if he'd been smacked. :Oh.: That put everything in perspective. :Why are they so determined to kill me all of a sudden?: Val flinched at that. :You know something, don't you?:
"They don't want you dead. They just want one of your scales," Val replied. "And before you get all huffy, I just found out about this today."
:One of my scales?: Ransom hissed folding his wings until they lat against his body. :They can't have my scales. They’re mine. What kind of fool would try and take them from me?:
"The kind of fool that is trying to impress a princess, that's who. Princess Celene has said that she will only marry someone who can bring her the scale of a dragon the color of the moon. Which, by the way, is what people refer to you as," Val said. Ransom took a moment to preen, even if he was much prettier than the moon. "The Dragon of the Moon. Anyway, Princess Celene's father is very rich and very powerful, so he's decided to go along with this whole idea."
:This is ridiculous.:
"I know. You have no idea how many idiots Aiden and I had to send packing before they started going through Baron Gosse's land. Every single one of them wanted nothing more than money, power and land. Not a single one had even seen Princess Celene, much less knew her."
:Hopeless romantic.: Ransom watched as Val blushed at the accusation. It was half the reason he knew her at all. :Is there anyway to make them stop?:
"Let them take one of your scales?" Val sighed as Ransom growled at the notion. "Fine, fine. I didn't think you'd take that suggestion well. Next best thing is for you to lay low for awhile until this whole thing blows over."
:I'm just supposed to let these idiots tromp through my valley?: Ransom was not pleased by this suggestion either.
"It's not like they will find your horde. It's too well hidden for that."
No dragon was immune to flattery, especially when it was true. :I see your point.: Ransom clicked his claws against the marble floor - tick tick tick - as he thought. :It can't be that hard to avoid those idiots.:
"And it is almost winter. Snow will soon discourage all but the most determined from going into the mountains." Val bit her lip, thinking. "I think this is a good plan. It should hold until at least spring, and by then hopefully all this fuss will have died down."
Ransom snorted. :One should hope.: Then he turned his head to the side, giving the glass ball a sly look. :So when are you and your Prince going to have hatchlings?:
"Ransom!"
***
The problem with staying out of sight and ignoring the less than steady stream of idiots that stumbled across his valley was that it was very boring. At least before there was something Ransom could do. Terrorizing fools at least made him feel productive.
Now all he could do was watch. It wasn't very entertaining.
At least Val was right. The snows have cut down on the numbers.
It still looked like autumn in the lower reaches. Ransom had flown down out of curiosity to look at the leaves of crimson and auburn still on the trees. In the mountains though, winter was well on its way to covering the world in white. There was at least three inches of snow on the ground now, and it no longer melted completely between each storm.
All this snow does make it easier to hide. Four days ago, he'd laid down in a snowbank during a brief snow shower. The dragon hunters had come within feet of him and never noticed. When they left, Ransom had almost hurt himself laughing.
It would have been more fun to surprise them and watch them run.
"Dragon!"
Ransom's head came up at the challenge. He knew that voice. There was only one dragon hunter with the balls to blithely charge into his valley and announce himself to the world. The only dragon hunter Ransom had any respect for. The only dragon hunter to ever have beaten him.
Pace.
With a low growl, Ransom slid off the ledge he was laying on and began to slowly pick ways way down the cliff. He couldn't see Pace or the thrice damned horse the dragon hunter rode, but that didn't mean anything. If I can't see them, then I know that he can't see me.
The dragon was grateful for the snow as he moved low to the ground. Not only did it help him blend into the landscape – really, there was no hiding his white scales when everything was green – but it also muffled the sound of his steps. Dragons could move with deceptive quietness, but every little bit helped when it came to facing Pace.
"Don't tell me some one else managed to take you out, dragon. I will be very put out if I came all this way only to find out that you are already dead." Ransom snarled in fury. That arrogant bastard!
Half way down the mountain, Ransom changed his mind about where he was going. Pace's voice was coming from the entrance of his valley, which was a narrow pass with steep sides. The small stream that fed his lake had carved it, and later someone had put in a wide path. If Ransom could come up behind the dragon hunter, it would be the perfect place for an ambush.
Imagining the look on Pace's face when he turned to find Ransom attacking from behind almost made up for the fact that he couldn't respond to the dragon hunter's comments. Almost.
"I guess that the stupid dragon did get himself killed. It was only a matter of time really." The fool was talking to his horse like it could understand him. Ransom bared his teeth and continued to slink towards the valley entrance. The words were getting easier to understand as he got closer. "Humans are obviously superior."
Oh that is it.
He launched himself forward, his wings going down and back in one powerful stroke for extra speed. Ransom cleared the edge and dove into the pass. His eyes scanned the snow looking for the smallest speck of color.
Nothing.
I swear I heard his voice come from this direction. Pace should have stood out against the paleness of the snow. Ransom back winged hard to slow his descent, and the wind from his wings churned the snow. It was only once he'd landed that it dawned on him that he should have paid attention to the tracks leading into the valley.
There goes the element of surprise.
Ransom growled and paced, ignoring the cold bite of the snow under his feet. Trees grew right next to the stream and bordered the path, and the brush was thicker here because there was more light. The dragon hunter could be anywhere. Why can't I see him? There's snow on the ground and one of his colors is red.
The thing about snow was it not only muffled the sounds he made, but it also muffled the sounds of other. Ransom didn't hear the charge until the dragon hunter was almost on him. He whirled around and had just enough time to grab the lance with his teeth before it dug into his shoulder. The dragon jerked the lance hard, hoping to unseat the dragon hunter.
Pace was too smart for the move to work. He immediately let go of the lance. His horse, a blue roan, turned neatly to put distance between them and Ransom. The dragon took a swipe at them but knew they were too far away.
"Took you long enough, Dragon. I was getting bored," Pace said. He was dressed mostly in gray and white with only a strip of red high on his left arm. Ransom tossed the lance into the trees and hissed.
:Tricky bastard. What happened to all that red you deck yourself out in?: Ransom didn't bother circling. There wasn't enough room. Instead he tried to make sure he wouldn't be pinned if Pace mounted another charge. :You go on and on about being honorable, and then you go and change the rules.:
"You slander me, foul beast, and I will not stand for it. I am honorable." Pace drew his sword. "Only a fool would ride into battle in the middle of winter wearing red, and I am no fool."
He expected the attack, could see it in the sudden tenseness of the horse Pace rode, but the ferocity was unexpected. Ransom was immediately put on the defensive. The dragon tried to graze the dragon hunter, their battles were always till first blood, but every time the sword was in the way.
It's the damn trees. Ransom couldn't use his wings for counter balance under the trees.He has the advantage as long as we're under them.
It wasn't much of an advantage. Pace had to be careful not to get his sword caught in any branches when he swung. But the dragon hunter had obviously battled in such conditions before. Ransom was usually smart enough to make sure he was in an open area.
My temper is going to get me killed one of these days. I guess even perfect beings must have flaws.
Ransom crouched low against the ground, letting the swing go over his head, and then lunged for the horse. It tried to back up, but the ground was slippery. The horse's back feet slipped. He took advantage of that and knocked the roan sideways. Pace was too busy attempting to keep his seat to attack, but he watched Ransom like a hawk.
He didn't press his advantage. Instead, Ransom turned and ran. Dragons were never as graceful on the ground as they were in the air, but they were still fast. The dragon could hear Pace's shouts of outrage.
The trees open up some farther ahead. If I can get there, I should be fine. If I can get a little further down to where the meadow is, even better. Ransom bared his teeth, winding between trunks of trees.
Some sixth sense warned him of danger. Ransom turned quickly, his claws skittering against ice crusted snow, to snap. Pace's horse reared and lashed at him. He managed to dodge, but it was a near thing.
"Coward," Pace yelled at him.
:Only a fool continues to fight on ground where he is at a disadvantage, and I am no fool.: Ransom deliberately used the same wording and inflection Pace had used before. The dragon hunter gritted his teeth and renewed his attacks.
In the end, it was random bad luck which caused Ransom to lose. He was preparing to attack when his back foot broke through the thin layer of ice on a small pond covered in snow. Pond was too generous a word though. Puddle would be more accurate.
He'd shrieked when he went down, scrambling to get purchase. Pace had taken the opportunity to score him right across his nose with his sword. The shallow wound stung. Ransom hissed.
"First blood. Do you yield?" Pace shouted. He always drew back, as if this would be the time that Ransom attacked rather than honor his word.
:I yield.: Ransom growled. He was never a good loser. :What is your boon?:
Because really, that's what this whole thing was about. Whoever won would demand that the other obtain something for them. Ransom had come up with the idea when he wanted something from the village below. He couldn't very well go down and get it while a dragon, and he'd be damned if he was going to put up with people's stupid rules by assuming another form.
It had seemed like the perfect solution. Ransom had approached the first reasonable dragon hunter he'd found and challenged him. Winner asked the loser for a boon. Pace had stipulated that it was only to first blood. Then they had fought.
If I knew I would actually lose to him, I never would have approached Pace.
"The Princess Celene has requested that someone bring her a scale from the dragon the color of the moon," Pace said. "Since I am the only one capable of such a thing, I have taken upon myself to complete the quest."
For a long moment, Ransom could only stare at the dragon hunter. Then he shrieked in rage. :That's what this is about? You want to give my scale to a spoiled brat of a princess who uses others for her own purposes? That is the boon you seek?:
Without taking a second to actually think about what he was doing, Ransom reared back on his hind legs, sank his teeth into his chest scale, and yanked one out. It let go with a bright burst of pain. The edge of it was still bloody as he tossed it into the snow.
:There is your scale: Ransom's blood was bright crimson against the snow. Pace's face had paled, his eyes wide with surprise. :Now get out of my valley.:
He didn't wait for a response. Instead Ransom turned and left. The dragon hunter had his boon.
***
In retrospect, pulling a scale from his underbelly was a bad idea. Nearly two weeks later and it still twinged if Ransom moved wrong. It also left a gap in his scales. His beautiful, beautiful scales.
He'd tried whining to Val about it, but she was absolutely no help at all. Instead of being properly sympathetic, she kept questioning him about Pace's involvement. "Pace? As in Sir Pace of Raeburn? What is he doing trying to court Princess Celene?"
:I don't know and I don't care. I gave him my scale and now he's giving it to a whiny Princess. It's not fair.:
"Wait. You just gave him one of your scales?"
:It's part of our agreement.: Then because Val still looked absolutely baffled. :This is not the first time we've fought. It's something of a regular occurrence.:
Then Ransom had had to admit that not only did he fight a dragon hunter as a sort of hobby, but that he also lost to him. Repeatedly. It was humiliating. He wouldn't even bare his belly scales to Val's prince, but he would to some random dragon hunter he'd made a bargain with that had lasted for over two years.
"That still doesn't explain why he is going after Princess Celene. Pace is one of the most sought after knights there is. Princess Celene is wealthy and powerful, but she's not the wealthiest or most powerful that has courted him. Why is he pursuing her over the rest?"
Ransom had cut the spell off after that and thrown the glass ball into a trunk. He'd first challenged Pace because he didn't want to deal with the strange intricacies of human life. He definitely didn't want to hear about them. And of course, there goes my only source of pity.
No wonder he'd been in a foul mood for the last two weeks.
Snow fell more often and drifts over a foot thick gathered in the shadowed nooks. It wasn't snowing now, but it was a close thing. Every once in awhile small flakes would drift downward. Ransom couldn't tell if they were dislodged from the trees by the wind or if they came from the sky.
The cold had never bothered him before, but it did now, burning at the place where his scale was missing like fire. It made Ransom snappish. He would retreat to his lair and his horde, but the snow dulled the worst of the ache from his missing scale. So really, it was just trading one gnawing pain for another.
"At the Gathering o' the Knights, back in years of yore
I watched two ladies get together, doin' it on the floor.
The Queen was in the parlor, eatin' bread and honey
The King was in the chambermaid, and she was in the money.
Four and twenty virgins came down to Ivaness
And when the Gathering was over, there were four and twenty less.
Singin' balls to your partner
Arse against th' wall!
If you canna' get laid on Feasting night
You canna' get laid at all!"
For one brief moment, Ransom refused to believe what he was hearing. It sounded like Pace's voice, but there was no way the knight was singing a bawdy song like that. Off key even. Things like that just did not happen.
The sound of Pace's voice was very loud and seemed to be coming from very near where Ransom had been laying. He didn't bother going airborne. Instead, the dragon walked towards the sound.
Ransom didn't have to walk far. Pace was flat on his back in the middle of the snowy meadow, one foot still caught in the stirrup. His horse was standing still and showing remarkable patience as far as Ransom was concerned. He would have long ago dumped the dragon hunter into a snow bank.
Drunk. He's got to be drunk. There is no other explanation for what I am seeing.
The dragon hunter was laughing at something only someone three sheets to the wind would find funny. Ransom noticed he seemed to be wearing his colors again: a white shirt with a red belt, a heavy cloak with a red wool lining. Pace's pants, cloak, and boots were all black. As he approached, Pace started to sing a few more verses off-key.
"The village carpenter he was there, with his prick of wood
He made it when he lost his own, and it worked just as good!
There was doin's on the porches, and doin's on the stones
You couldna' hear the music for the loud and joyful moans.
Sir Hugh he was there, with his favorite toys:
A dozen beautiful women, and a dozen beautiful..."
The singing died as Ransom came to stand right over the dragon hunter. Glazed blue eyes, almost purple in color, looked up at him. The blue roan snorted and stomped, but didn't move.
"Greetings, Dragon," Pace said. One hand was firmly wrapped around a wineskin and the other reached up towards Ransom. The dragon hunter made grabbing motions. "Come 'ere so I can pet you."
:You smell like a brewery.:
"I'm not drunk," Pace yelled. Ransom forced himself not to rear back. I really wish my nose wasn't as sensitive as it is. How long has he been drinking to smell like that?
:I never said you were drunk. I said you smelled. There's a difference.: Ransom took another step closer, but Pace's horse shied away. Since the dragon hunter's foot was still in the stirrup, he was dragged a few inches. Stupid mule is not going to let me get any closer. Lovely.
"I could see it in your eyes." The dragon hunter regarded him from his vantage point with all the concentration of someone who was well beyond plowed. "You have pretty eyes. Like sapphires surrounded by pearl."
Ransom ducked his head, flattered and flustered and angry at himself for feeling that way. Stop acting like a youngling being courted for the first time! He took a deep breath, and then another. Then Ransom concentrated on trying to figure out a way to get Pace unhooked for his horse. The dragon hunter began humming under his breath.
:Why are you drunk?: Keeping Pace talking would at least keep him from singing. The last thing Ransom wanted to hear was all 101 raunchy verses to the "The Gathering o' the Knights."
"Do you know why the Princess Celene wanted one of your scales?" Pace asked.
:Because she wanted to marry?:
"Because she wanted to marry." Ransom counted backwards from twenty. Patience. He's drunk.
:I never would have guessed.:
"I've had Princesses wanting to marry me before. I was very polite when I turned them down." Pace threw his arm over his eyes and made a sound. It was very much like a sob. Ransom could only stare. "My liege ordered me to finish what I started. A quest is not completed until I claim my reward. He wants me to marry her."
:Truly a fate worse that death.: Ransom knew if he had to marry a Princess, he'd be pretty upset to. Maybe not upset enough to drink himself to death, which was what it smelled like Pace was trying to do. The dragon crooned at Pace's horse, but it was not working. I don't want to eat you. I just want you to stand still long enough for me to dislodge your idiot rider.
It wasn't working. That left Ransom with two choices. He could leave Pace out in the snow and hope someone came looking for the dragon hunter. Sure. And how many are going to risk my wrath or the snows on the off chance he came here?
Or he could go to his horde, find his therion stone, and assume his other form.
I really, really hate being human.
Ten minutes later, Ransom returned. Around his neck was a thin silver chain and hanging from the chain was clear quartz crystal with a sing hole drilled through it. Pace was still in the snow, foot still stuck in the stirrup, only now he was bemoaning his fate to the leaden sky. Wonderful.
It was always strange when Ransom changed. He never liked it. Going from something that was essentially perfect to something that was so very not perfect went against his nature. Power rippled around him until the air shimmered. Then it surged. When the sparkles faded from his eyes, Ransom found himself standing in the snow as a human.
Oh good. I was wearing winter weight clothes last time I changed. And shoes. Thank goodness for the shoes. The shoes in question were thin soled, but they were still better than frostbitten toes. Ransom was dressed in pants, shirt, and a long padded jacket that fell to his knees and was split up the side. Everything had a vaguely Eastern cut to it. He preferred their style of clothing to anything from his native country.
Therion stones were a must for those who could shapeshift. They took whatever their wearer was wearing at the time of the shift and held it within suspended animation until they shifted back. Without them, Ransom would be spending a lot of time destroying clothing and running around naked.
Frostbite in uncomfortable places. Awful. I don't know how werewolves and their kin do it.
Pace didn't seem to notice the change. He didn't notice his horse dragging him either. In fact, he didn't seem to notice anything except the wine skin he was still draining and the litany of sorrows he felt the world had inflicted upon him. Ransom rolled his eyes.
The blue roan noticed though. Ransom watched as the horse's ears came forward and then went immediately back. It stamped its foot and shook its head in warning. The horse was not fooled at all.
You're shy now. Wait till you see what I have in my pockets.
Horses did not like dragons. Even when Ransom, or really any of his kind, assumed a human form they knew something was different. It made them nervous. So Ransom used an age old technique to get the horse to trust him long enough for him to accomplish his goals.
Bribery.
"See?" His voice rasped slightly from disuse and Ransom coughed a few times to clear his throat. He hated the way he sounded as a human. "I have dried apples. It's winter. When was the last time you had apples? At the very least come sniff them."
It didn't take long before the horse was persuaded. While the blue roan ate the apples, Ransom stroked its neck, careful to keep his claw-like fingernails from scratching. When he could, Ransom unhooked Pace's foot from the stirrup. It hit the snow with a soft "whump."
"Oh." It seemed that Pace had finally noticed him. "Who are you? Where's the dragon?"
"He got tired of your whining and sent me to come get you out of the snow," Ransom snapped. The horse jerked at the sound, but he kept a good grip on its reins. "Now get up."
"He never told me he had a friend," Pace said. He gave Ransom a look that the dragon had only seen once before when he'd accidentally eaten a little girl's pony. It made him feel vaguely guilty for no good reason.
"I don't. I'm the dragon, you idiot."
"Are you sure?"
"Yes, I'm sure! I should have just left you to die in the snow. But I didn't. Do you know why? Because I didn't want to have to deal with your smelly corpse in the spring. So get up out of the snow and get back on your damn mule." As if to emphasize his point, Ransom stalked over to where Pace lay, grabbed him by the front of his shirt, and hauled him to his feet.
It was so incredibly unfair that the dragon hunter was taller than him. Why am I so short in this form? Ransom looked up through his white bangs, he really needed to get them cut, and glared. Pace looked down at him in confusion. Then he smiled.
"It really is you. Hello dragon." Then the dragon hunter petted him on the head, like he was a small dog. "You have pretty hair."
I am going to drop lots of loud, clangy things while he has a hangover. Yes. Think of that. Torture instead of simply reaching out an strangling him. "Yes, yes I do. Now get on the horse."
"I don't want to go back," Pace said. Ransom looked up into his eyes and sighed. He was an idiot. A great big idiot who could not just sit there and let someone be miserable.
"I won't take you back. I'll take you to my lair. Now can you please get onto the horse?" That seemed to mollify the dragon hunter. Somehow he managed to get back in the saddle without launching himself completely over the horse. Ransom helped by holding the blue roan's reins, and keeping the horse from turning around and biting its idiot master.
When Pace seemed like he would remain more or less seated, Ransom began to lead the horse towards the lake. Snow began to come down more heavily, and Ransom could hear the steady hiss of it as it fell. It wasn't blinding yet.
Even though Ransom usually entered through the lake, there was another entrance to his lair. He led Pace's horse to it. To anyone else it looked like icy rock dusted with snow. Just another cliff in a valley full of them.
Ransom knew better. He raised the hand that wasn't currently holding the reins, palm facing the stone. Blue runes flared to life. Seconds later, the rock golem got to its feet and took three steps to the right. Then it settled back down until it looked like nothing more than a large, oddly shaped boulder.
Inside the floor was slick with mud. Ransom hissed at the mess. If he'd known it was this bad, he would have cleaned. The dragon never took this way into his lair. It was embarrassing. Hopefully, Pace will be too drunk to remember this.
Before too long, his pants were muddy and he'd almost fallen more than once. The horse was also having a hard time keeping its balance. Pace managed to stay in the saddle. At this point, Ransom was counting that as a minor miracle.
By the time they got to his horde, Pace had passed out. Ransom opened up one of the chambers that had the bed Val had used when she stayed with him. He manhandled Pace into bed, took off his boots and cloak, and made him drink some water. Which he promptly threw up. Growling, Ransom made him drink some more. Thankfully, Pace kept it down this time.
When Ransom lead Pace's horse back outside, the snow had let up again. He worried at his lip. There was no way he could take care of the horse. There was no hay, no grain, and he didn't even know how to take care of the horse in any way, shape or form. It could not stay here.
Dragon hunters were awfully proud of their horses though. A blizzard had been threatening all day, and while it was not snowing hard now, the passes wouldn't stay open for much longer. Winter was here to stay.
Pace isn't going to be pleased. Oh well. He shouldn't have gotten drunk and come into my valley if he didn't want me making decisions for him. Ransom hooked the stirrups so that they wouldn't get caught on anything, loosened the bit, and let the horse go. It looked at him expectantly.
"Go home. They have food for you and don't see you as a meal on hooves," Ransom told it. The blue roan looked at him for a long moment. When no food was forthcoming, it turned around and headed towards the valley entrance.
Good riddance.
Now all he had to worry about was what to do with a cranky dragon hunter in his lair. Luckily, that could wait till morning. Ransom was going to bed.
