Treasure Ch. 10

Adeon hadn't slept.

Catherine was nestled in the crook of his arm, warm and unfathomably tiny. Her mouth had fallen wide open, and a lock of curling black hair fluttered over her lips in time with her breathing. She was still wearing the same dress as last night, the neckline hanging haphazardly from one shoulder. Adeon's eyelids lowered slowly in a weary blink. The residents of the hall were beginning to stir.

It was going to be a long day.

"Catherine," he said, lowering a talon to touch her cheek, and she murmured something before catching it in her hands, clutching it to her chest, and rolling over. He hesitated, then gingerly pried it from her fingers. "Catherine."

Her eyelids fluttered. "Mmm." Her legs shifted, lifting her dress and exposing a creamy length of thigh, and Adeon cocked his head to the side before tracing the line of flesh with a claw. Although the cogs of his brain were sluggish with sleep-deprivation, he found himself idly licking his lips. He wondered vaguely how furious she would be if she awakened to find his tongue in between her legs. She would turn that delicious shade of pink, he thought, and her lips would part in an enticing moan while he lapped her up. He imagined the arch of her spine, the near-agonized wail she would reward him with while her body was wracked with those familiar shudders, the way the corners of her lips would twitch into a blissful smile.

His mouth watering slightly, he caught the hem of her dress delicately beneath one of his claws and lifted it a few inches higher. She shivered a little as the tip of his talon skimmed her flesh, but then grew still. He began to descend towards her, his maw splitting into a greedy grin, but paused as he caught sight of a pale shape making its way towards him in the gloom of the cavern. His eyes narrowed moodily. He tugged her dress back down to her knees.

"Adeon, isn't it?" a familiar voice said. The white-haired dragon was regarding the two of them with interest, pink eyes lit with curiosity. He was shed of his scales, clad in a saffron-gold tunic and dark tights. His pale skin was luminous in the dark.

"Yes," Adeon said irritably. The other dragon lifted an eyebrow.

"I hope I'm not interrupting."

Catherine was stirring against the curve of his arm, and those enormous blue eyes slid open to regard Adeon blearily. "Ist mrnng?" she slurred, and he nudged her chest with his nose.

"It's morning," he agreed, trying to hide the weariness in his voice. Her face slackened in a wide yawn, and he watched her dress strain against the swell of her bosom as she stretched. Disappointment and exhaustion made the glare he shot the other dragon a little more vicious than he intended. "What is it that you need?" The other dragon bowed with a flourish.

"I am called Cael by some," he intoned. "I'll be accompanying you on your journey this morning. After much contemplation, I've decided to exchange my favor with the Unseelie fey for the advantage of our battle."

Adeon's scaly brows furrowed. "How very valiant of you," he said dryly. Cael's lips spread into an impish smile. "And just how long did it take you to come to such a noble decision?" Cael shrugged and let his eyes wander throughout the cavern.

"A debt from the Unseelie is precious. I'd be devastated if it were to go to waste. But it's all for the better if I join you, I suppose. It would be unwise to attempt to redeem it on my own. Scary place, you know."

As Adeon listened to Cael drawl, watched the lazy shift of his eyes, he decided that he wasn't overly-fond of the other dragon.

"You're very kind to offer your help," Catherine said from in between his claws, and he glanced down at her. She was much more awake now, all lustrous blue eyes and rosy cheeks, her lips cheerfully curved.

"I am very kind," Cael said. His smirk evoked a faint pang of rage from deep in Adeon's chest. "When will we depart?"

"Soon," Adeon grunted.

"Good, good. I suppose I'll go and find the rest of your little cavalry." And with that, he turned, stretched, and moseyed right out of the cavern. Adeon watched him warily for a moment, and then felt Catherine lay her hand on his snout. Her pink lips parted in inquiry, and he lowered his head so it was level with hers.

"I don't like him," he finally mumbled. Catherine laughed, a sweet chime like so many bells, and he felt the tension loosen in his shoulders.

"He is quite sure of himself," she said. "But I think it's charming. He reminds me a bit of you." Adeon's mouth quirked in annoyance, but then her face fell. "Adeon," she murmured, "are you alright?"

Adeon struggled to mask the droop of his eyelids, the slackness of his features. "Tired," he said. Her warm hands clutched his jaw, drew his head into her arms, and he let his eyes slide shut.

"You didn't sleep," she said accusingly.

He winced. "I did not."

"You're worrying." Her chin was raised sternly, and he flashed her a weary, reluctant grin.

"I told you not to worry for the both of us," he said. "We would never get anything done." Her arms constricted in a tiny squeeze as she laughed, and he tried to ignore the intoxicating warmth of her embrace. Her hands stroked the ridges of his brow, slow and soft, and he exhaled in a rattling sigh. "Nor will we if you put me to sleep," he added drowsily.

"You should rest."

"We have very few allies in our endeavor, and time isn't one of them." His limbs creaked with protest as he stirred, and she pouted mutinously when he eased his head out from her arms. "We'll be leaving soon."

"I have to dress," she sighed after a moment. He watched with amusement as she rose to her feet, clutched her enormous makeshift sack in her hands, and dragged it slowly towards his shoulders. He unfurled one of his wings obediently, and even that elicited a weary pop from his joints. As he listened to the shift of fabric behind him, he tried to swat away thoughts of the forest, of the inevitable threat of fairy sabotage. Catherine, naive and blissfully ignorant of the wicked compulsions of the fey, couldn't possibly know what they were walking into.

"I'd rather you stayed outside the forest while we spoke," he said softly, and he heard her pause. "The Unseelie court can be nightmarish, its inhabitants doubly so."

"I thought you said the dragons and the fairies were...I don't know..." Her voice became muffled as she wriggled into another dress. "...friendly?" Adeon snorted.

"A truce doesn't necessarily beget friendship. We tolerate each other, and that tolerance doesn't extend to human visitors." She wandered out from behind his wing wearing a pale blue dress, a black cloak, and her slippers. "They'll be very interested in you," he said quietly.

"Isn't that a good thing?" she retorted.

"Never." She looked down at the floor, and he felt despair well up in his chest. "I'm not going to be able to change your mind, am I?" he murmured. She offered him a wry smile that he did not return.

"I thought you weren't going to let me out of your sight." He groaned, and she scooped up his pile of clothes. "I'll be alright," she said. "I'll have you to keep me safe. And Roane, and Sher, and Shax, and maybe even Cael, although he doesn't really strike me as the valorous type..." He shifted and twisted as he shed his scales, feeling them withdraw slowly into his skin, and tried to hide his brooding expression as he took the clothes from her. Her eyes narrowed. "Don't brood," she said, and he heaved an exasperated sigh.

He dressed in silence, and his eyes flitted down to Catherine's knapsack as he tugged on his trousers. Something was glittering in its depths, and after a moment's pause, he knelt down to scoop it up. A smile teased at his lips.

"You still have it," he mused.

The sapphire pendant hung heavy and bright from the silver chain that was tangled in his fingers. It caught the strange yellow light of the cavern and sent it ricocheting back tenfold, as dazzling as a star plucked from the sky. Although he had once treasured it with a grim sort of pride, now it only brought to mind the damp spirals of Catherine's curls that were plastered to her cheek as she rose from the spring, the wide uncertainty of her stare, the way she had tried to mask her embarrassment with indignation the first time he saw her wear it.

"I'm sorry I haven't worn it," she said, wrenching him from his thoughts. "With all that we've done, I've been terrified of losing it." He stalked behind her and paused, then parted her mass of curls to kiss the nape of her neck. He relished her shudder, closing his eyes to inhale her heady scent.

"It reminds me of your eyes," he said against her skin. He draped the chain over her throat and fastened it with a deft slip of his fingers. "It would make me so happy if you never took it off."

"Then I won't," she whispered.

"Good." He pressed his mouth to her neck again, and his hands lingered on her shoulders as he drew away. "They're probably waiting for us," he said grimly, and she clung to him as he began to stride unsteadily towards the exit.

"But you look so tired," she protested. She leaned against his arm as they walked, worry darkening her gaze. "What if you fall from the sky?" she wondered out loud, and he lifted his eyebrows.

"Then you'll fall with me, I expect, unless you sprout some wings of your own."

"I don't believe I possess the ability to sprout wings on command."

"Perhaps it's latent. You've never fallen from the sky before, have you?" He tilted his head towards her and grinned broadly. "We could try it."

"You're absolutely terrible."

"You brought it up. And I am feeling quite weary..." She shot him a glare, and he leaned in closer. "You'd better hold on tight," he crooned, giddy from the terror in her expression.

"You don't scare me," she retorted, but he felt her fingers grip the fabric of his shirt a little tighter. "Not one bit." A purr of contentment rumbled in his throat as he drew her closer.

"That's a shame," he said into her hair.

The stone hallway around them was growing busier with every step they took, full of figures in various stages of dress stirring from slumber. At his side, Catherine was growing increasingly tense. Her gaze darted warily from one wall to the other much like a rabbit's; scanning each face, searching for predators. For a horrible moment, Grindel's smirking face surfaced in Adeon's thoughts, and he felt his jaw set.

He's not...he isn't...right, she had protested. Not for the first time, Adeon wondered fervently what sort of exchange had gone on without him.

"Adeon."

Adeon's head jerked towards the source of the whisper, which had popped into existence near his right ear, and a pair of wide, worried, violet eyes met his. Shax had fallen into step beside them.

"Adeon," he repeated in a fervent mutter, "we might have a problem."

Adeon's shoulders drooped with an exhausted sort of resignation. "Lovely," he said. His voice came out in a croak. "What is it?" The hall was widening into the familiar basin of the main cavern, and Shax jerked his head conspicuously towards a corner to the right of the entrance. Catherine and Adeon followed the path of his gesture. Jiro was standing near an iron pot that had been haphazardly harnessed over a feeble fire, still looking supremely well-dressed despite having taken up residence in the wilderness. The smoke from his kindling wafted towards the ceiling and trickled in tendrils towards the mouth of the cave.

"Kai left earlier this morning to find her men," Shax whispered, a little too close to Adeon's ear. Catherine was watching the two of them curiously. "She left him here to accompany us in her stead."

Adeon felt his eyebrows rise high into his hairline. "Why?"

"I don't know," Shax admitted. "She wove up this speech about how our causes were intertwined, and, well, you know. She's rather persuasive. Had me nodding like a fool five minutes in." His eyes suddenly locked on Catherine's face. "She also mentioned that Catherine's safety was rather important to her, and that she wanted her well-guarded..."

"Me?" Catherine said. "Why on earth--"

"Who can know the whims of the Lady Kai?" Shax interrupted gloomily. Adeon watched Jiro as he began to march purposefully towards them, appraising the lean muscles beneath his sleeves and the fluidness of each of his steps.

"As if a human would stand a chance against something that first bested five dragons," he finally grumbled. "He'll only slow us down." For a moment, he thought he saw Catherine's expression darken slightly, but her mouth twitched back into a brilliant smile when Jiro came to stand in front of them. He was staring down at Catherine, and she watched him with thinly-veiled uncertainty as he brandished two tiny wooden bowls and nodded silently towards the fire behind him.

"I...I suppose I could use some breakfast," she admitted. Jiro, still as expressionless as the dead, said nothing. After several very awkward seconds, she took one of the bowls from his hands, and he rewarded her with an acknowledging nod before leading her back towards his meager camp. Despite his annoyance, Adeon watched their retreating backs with a pang of gratitude. After last night, he was ecstatic to see Catherine eating anything.

"You're not thinking of taking him with us, are you?" Shax said. He was fidgeting slightly with one of his white sleeves.

"I'd rather not," he said, keeping his eyes trained firmly on Catherine as she wove through the crowd with Jiro.

And then, suddenly, her body seemed to stiffen.

When a small throng of dragons dispersed, Adeon saw a familiar, dark figure watching the pair of them approach. Grindel's amber eyes regarded both of them with faint interest, and Catherine hunched her shoulders as he lifted a hand to touch her trailing black curls, letting the strands sift through his fingers as she passed. His spine curved to follow her passing, like he was inhaling her scent, and she teetered unsteadily away from him. Those thin lips curved into a slow half-smile.

The next several seconds passed in a blur. One moment Adeon was standing next to Shax, and the next, he had somehow scaled the length of the cavern and was in the process of shoving Grindel with him into a narrow hallway. Grindel, who seemed thoroughly caught off-guard, only retaliated with a few weak thrashes before he was slammed into a wall with so much force that bits of gravel rained down from the ceiling. Displaced locks of shaggy black hair fell into his eyes, which were wide with surprise. The pupils had narrowed into thin black slits.

"You don't touch her," Adeon spat. He was only vaguely aware that one of his hands had wound tightly around Grindel's neck, and as he spoke, it squeezed for emphasis. The other was splayed out against Grindel's shoulder, pinning him against the rock wall. "You don't speak to her. You don't even look at her--"

Grindel's shocked expression was gone as quickly as it had appeared, replaced by cool indifference. He glanced down at Adeon's hands with disdain and raised his eyebrows. "Or you'll do...what, exactly?" he asked softly. Adeon felt himself shake as he brought his face closer to the other dragon's, so close that he could see strands of Grindel's hair fluttering from each of his ragged breaths.

"I will kill you," he promised in a dry rasp. It seemed unfamiliar somehow, like he was listening to someone else speak with his voice.

"Is that so?" Rather than recoiling from Adeon's advance, Grindel leaned in closer, as if confiding a secret. His twisted smile boasted a mouthful of wickedly sharp teeth. "Look at you. Whipped into a frenzy like a dog guarding a piece of meat," he said, softer than a breath.

He trailed off when Adeon's fingers constricted around his throat. "You're in no position to insult me," Adeon said, feeling the tendons tense beneath his palm.

"Not insulting," Grindel croaked. That infuriating smile never left his lips, even as he struggled to draw breath. His hands hung loosely at his sides--casually, like they were exchanging friendly banter. "I'm only imploring you to see reason."

"I would do the land a service by ridding it of the burden of your reason..."

"It wasn't any fault of yours," Grindel continued, apparently oblivious to Adeon's threats. "Left alone for decades, hailed as a monster by all of the land. Perhaps you began to believe it. And then, in the midst of your spiraling descent into insanity and self-loathing, you found solace in some charming little thing with big blue eyes. She said what she had to and you ate it right up; interpreted her desperation as some misplaced kindness for you, a creature undeserving of kindness." Adeon flinched as Grindel's hands came up to grip his shoulders, almost pleadingly. "Isolation left you vulnerable, Adeon. Nobody should have to endure what we're forced to endure. Stay with us; we can help you end this pointless obsession--"

"Don't delude yourself. I'm not one of your drooling sycophants," Adeon said, feeling his lips quirk with wild amusement. "We both know you're hardly capable of feeling so sympathetic." Like a snuffed candle flame, the eager hopefulness in Grindel's expression flickered out of existence. His upper lip arched contemptuously as he dropped his hands from Adeon's shoulders.

"And you're so enlightened," he said. With a jerk, he wrenched himself out from Adeon's grip. "I could be wrong. Perhaps you're just pathetic enough to bend to the whims of a human girl. I can only pray that you'll come to your senses someday, but for now..." He leaned closer, smiling widely. "...I'll try to behave myself," he said through his teeth.

And with that, he shouldered impatiently past Adeon and stalked down the length of the hall. Adeon watched his retreat from over his shoulder, and from the corner of his eye, he saw several figures looming near the entrance. They flocked to Grindel's side as he approached, shooting Adeon hostile, backward glances all the while, and then followed him as he vanished around a corner. Adeon grimaced. How quickly the charismatic gathered lackeys.

When he finally made his way back into the cavern, Jiro and Catherine were watching the mouth of the tunnel with wide eyes. It wasn't until Jiro's sleeve shifted back to his porridge bowl that Adeon noticed that hand had been suspended over the hilt of his sword.

"How many times has he touched you?" Adeon murmured as he marched towards Catherine, who was staring up at him with an odd mixture of dread and relief. "How many times has he threatened you?" She flinched, and fury welled up in his stomach like molten steel. Jiro suddenly seemed very absorbed with spooning dollops of a porridge-like substance into each of the bowls. "And how long," he continued softly, "did you intend to keep it from me?"

"I didn't want to worry you--"

"You didn't want to worry me?" Adeon repeated, feeling his eyes grow wide. "He could swallow you whole without a second thought, and you--"

"Don't," Catherine whispered. Her face had gone ghostly white. Adeon paused in spite of his rage, and she shivered before continuing. "You saw the dragons following him. Even in the short time you were alone with him, I was terrified that something might happen to you. And I didn't want it to be because of me."

"And what would you have me do, Catherine? Sit and watch while he terrifies you? Perhaps I could assist him," Adeon offered, and Catherine's eyes screwed into furious slits.

"I'm not frightened of him," she snapped.

"Well, you should be," Adeon said suddenly. Catherine jumped back, and it was only then that he noticed how his voice was ringing loudly throughout the cavern. And, in a moment of wild abandon, he realized that he didn't care. "He should petrify you! You should be cowering at the thought of the monstrosities that he's capable of inflicting upon you! Do you think some belligerent sense of heroism is going to save you when he decides he wants to kill you? Do you think a sword made of light is going to materialize in your hands when the gods observe your valor?" He jerked her closer to him by her shoulders, and she gazed up at him in horror. "This isn't a storybook, Catherine. You are not a knight. And you don't have the sense to know when you're in over your head," he hissed right into her face.