Sacrificed to the Dragon Prince

011: The Dance

[Millicent]

What just happened?

Primus is afraid. Afraid of me. All because we had a single moment where we allowed ourselves to be vulnerable. To touch and be touched. Remembering what Leon had said about companionship, maybe it cost him more than I can ever understand to let me so close to him.

But he wanted it. He asked me for it.

Kneeling on the floor I replay the evening in my mind.

____

As soon as I entered the hall, I noticed things were different. Everything looked and smelled as amazing as it had the night before. A roasted boar was sitting on the center of the serving table, ringed with pears and apples. The torchlight had been replaced with simple candlelight, magnified by the crystal lamps that held them. The night air was filled with a gentle tinkling melody, a lovely chiming in the air. It sounded angelic as if the very walls were singing. It was both haunting and beautiful, like walking into an unknown dreamscape.

Primus also seemed different, softer somehow. He was still a sight to behold, just as arrogant, commanding, and beastly. But there was a lessening of the intensity. Less big, less loud, just all around less.

Why?

And then he made his offer.

"Do not worry,” he assured me, “I simply want a dance."

As if dancing with a dragon were a simple thing. For somebody like myself, it was more terrifying than arguing with him.

He stood there next to me, holding out his hand for me to take, as if I were a fine lady at an even finer party and he was the next lord in line to take my hand.

Of all the things he could have asked for in exchange for the freedom he offered, all he wanted was a dance. He could have asked for anything, any type of touch, and I would have been tempted to do it for just a small ability to choose. But he asked me to dance. I’ve danced with myself dozens of times when I thought nobody could see me, knowing that if I were caught idle I would be punished for the sin of existing and enjoying myself. I have never danced with anyone, ever. That was something someone did when they were happy, with someone they might like during a moment of joy. When he asked me to dance, none of those things were true.

"But I don't know how..." I responded nervously, my hands slick with sweat. He is making me so nervous with how different he is behaving tonight.

Why was he trying so hard to play at being nice?

I think I liked it better when he was angry with me.

"You do not need to. I will guide you. But first, you must take my hand,” he bowed elegantly, gracefully, his hand a princely offering. "Unless you have changed your mind." And then he turned his face away from me, closing his eyes, giving me the space to make a decision. I stared at him, trying to assess what he must be feeling as I watched his chest moving up and down, his hand patiently awaiting my response.

I paused.

I was in control.

And it felt amazing.

I almost walked away. Part of me wanted to hurt his pride as much as he hurt mine the night before. It would be what he would expect, being the beast that he is. But what would I gain in doing that?

Instead, I decided to surprise him.

"Shall we..." I put my hand in his. I look down to avoid his intense gaze, bright with an emotion I cannot quite read. Fear? No, I have nothing for him to fear. Shock? Possibly.

I stood as still as I could waiting for him to make the next move. If he hadn’t dared me to take his hand, I wouldn’t have ever thought to ask for it. Now that the heat of our argument and the fever of feeling in control has cooled, I don't know what to do next.

And I didn’t need to. He took the lead…and I followed.

At that moment, that strangely intoxicating moment, we moved together as if we had done so forever, the crystals singing around us as he moved us both in the steps of a courtly dance, one I had never seen in any of the halls of Crimson. When I stumbled, he anticipated it, adjusting himself to match me. This push and pull between us was more than just the dance itself, it was every interaction we have had since the moment he dropped down from the sky to bring me here. Not an exchange or a transaction, it was something else.

A dance.

Touching him was not nearly as unpleasant as I expected. His hands, while large, are warm and a little rough, as if he did more than just live in comfort. Having never been this close to him before without being in a state of rage, I had never noticed how he is beautiful, almost too beautiful, maybe even more so because of his beastly nature than despite it. His horns and talons accentuate him rather than making him less attractive. He also has a unique, musky scent, not like anything I have ever encountered. Like all the elements of the earth, he smells of dark caves and the fresh breeze after a rainstorm mixed with sun-warmed rocks and crushed fall leaves.

Is this how all dragons smell, or is it just him?

Taking a deep breath, I felt his scent enter my lungs, seeping into my flesh and bones, calming me unexpectedly. But rather than feel afraid of my sudden change, I felt brave.

When I looked up, he was already watching me. Capturing me with his gaze I watched his irises swirl, shining iridescently in the candlelight. Time stops. Everything stops. Standing there, holding onto him, I felt something stir deep within me. This dance has suddenly shifted, feeling far more intimate. Even though only our hands were touching, I could feel him so innately that every hair on my body was standing on end, the merest breath of touch enough to ignite something within me that I had no words to express.

His expression shifts.

Now I know what his fear looks like.

"I...I have to leave..." he stuttered, pushing me away. "Leon will be coming with me, we will be gone for several days."

He is across the room before I can even ask him about what just happened. "What's wrong, did I do something..."

"NO!" he bellows. "No, it's not...I just need to go."

I don’t know why I took a step towards him. I felt drawn to him.

"I will keep my promise," he shouted at me fleeing the room. "You will not see me unless you desire to see me."

"But...I..."

And then I was left alone. Very very alone.

I let myself fall to the ground.

____

And that’s where I’ve been sitting for the last hour. None of the maids came to see me, to help me back to my room this whole time. Maybe they forgot about me.

Standing, I dust off my skirts and walk back to my seat. The food has long gone cold, but I’m hungry enough not to care. I take a piece of meat and set it between two rolls. It is massive, and hard to hold, but there is no one to see me, so I tear it apart savagely, gulping down red wine between bites, not paying any mind to how the wine sloshed on my sleeves when I set the goblet down, or how the meat splattered onto the table when I waved my arm. I am craving so many things right now, and this was the only one I could satisfy.

I look over to where Primus had been sitting not so long ago.

What's this? Primus left something behind. A book?

Was this the gift he meant to give me?

It is a small thing, dainty. I cannot imagine someone as large as Primus ever reading this because how could he ever hold onto it without breaking it? It looks so precious, and fragile. Even as a child, I can't imagine he would have been small or careful enough to read it. Gently, as if lifting a rose from a vase, I pick up the blush pink volume, marveling at the delightful texture of its silk binding, the title embroidered in gold. While I might not know many words yet, I know enough that I can read the title of this book.

“The Story of Carnelia the Great,” I mumble to myself.

Opening the book to the first page I see the name “Primus” scrawled in an uneven hand on the cover. So this was his as a child. I smile, thinking of what a little monster he must have been like as I turn to the title page.

“CARNELIA” is hand-lettered in bold calligraphy. Underneath, is the image of a gold and red dragon, her body curled in the sky, replacing the sun.