009: Life Lessons
1525 Words
Leon and I spent the morning re-teaching me how to sit (with one’s back straight, head pointed towards the heavens), how to eat (slowly and with care, never hurried), and then how to read (a painful process for the heart, mind, and eyes). It was more than a bit humiliating, but he did all of this with such patience and goodwill that I felt at ease, even with my lack of understanding.
For example, it is “unladylike” to use your hands to dip your fruit into your bowl of cream. There are little forks for eating your berries so that your fingers are never sullied with juice. Never mind that the juice often tastes better licked from one's hand. It is also “undignified” to pour your own cream in the first place because that is what the attendants are hired to do. Even if that meant you waited in hunger until they made their way over to you. Rushing and impatience are also “undignified,” so those moments of waiting your turn are important when cultivating patience, a desired virtue.
Those with power can afford to be patient because they know they will get what they want. Those of us without, however, may have developed other skills, such as the ability to move quickly.
“If you act like a servant, you will be treated as such,” Leon explains to me when I express this very important point.
“But I am a servant,” I express in frustration. “Even worse, I am a captive. A slave.”
You could almost see smoke curling out of his ears as his face reddened. “You are not a slave or a captive,” his hand slaps the table, rattling our tea set. “You are a guest.”
“A guest,” my voice begins to raise in volume. “A guest can leave.”
“And you cannot?” He gestures around. “There are no locks on these doors.”
“The prince has made it quite clear that I belong to him. As long as I belong to
him I have no choice,” I twist the napkin in my hand. “And if I have no choice, I have no control.”
“Do you want to leave,” Leon’s voice is very quiet. I look up from my lap. He is staring, his eyes soft.
“I don’t have anywhere else to go,” I confess. “There is nobody in Crimson who wants me.”
“I want you,” he states simply as he looks down at his plate. “And so does Primus.”
“As a bauble in his hoard,” I throw my napkin down on my plate. “Thank you for reminding me.”
“Would that be so bad?” he asks. “To be kept by him? He chose you.”
“He chose me?” I am shouting now, not caring about the way Leon leaned away from me. “He accepted me as payment and hauled me up this mountain tied to a cart,” my chest is heaving in my tight bodice. I calm myself so that I can take a deep breath and say, “You and I have very different ideas about choice.”
“No,” he tries to explain. “Look around. Have you seen many humans here?”
I think about that. Other than Leon and myself, and the maids, the only other creature I’ve seen is Primus. There had to be more though, right? Who is attending this land? Who is taking care of the horses cooking the food or cleaning? I haven’t actually “seen” any of this happening.
“No,” I admit as the realization dawns on me. “How is this possible?”
“Primus is a dragon. An earth dragon of the highest order,” Leon speaks slowly, giving me time to figure things out. “He doesn’t actually NEED any of us. He can create anything he needs from the ground itself. Food, light, beauty, companionship…” he coughs.
“Companionship?” I begin to question but Leon turns away, blushing.
Ohhhh.
“He can magic people for himself?”
“Not exactly…they aren’t quite people,” he doesn’t explain. “It gets lonely on this mountain. Primus is several centuries old. That’s a long time to be alone.”
“It looks like he’s managed just fine…” I wave my hands around at the beauty of this secret valley.
“Let’s return to your studies,” he picks up a book, trying to change the subject. I groan, my eyes hurt just looking at the thing. It's as thick as my thumb is long.
“My eyes hurt enough already,” I whine.
“Maybe you need spectacles. I’ll inquire in town next time I…”
“I don’t really understand the point of any of this,” I interrupt him, waving my hands at the fine utensils, the elegant food, and the frustrating books that I want to hurl into the stream. “I will never need any of this knowledge. Nobody cares if I act like a servant, sit like a servant, move like a servant. The only person who will see me for the rest of my life is you.”
“And Primus,” Leon reminds me.
“I said ‘person,’” I clarify. “Primus is a beast.”
Something sours in Leon’s expression. “It is sad that you think such of our lord. He really is quite generous and he does have his moments of kindness.”
“Moments!” I try not to scream at Leon, but there is something about Primus that taps into a deep anger that I didn’t know I had. “If he is so dignified, so civilized, he should act more, I don’t know…”
“Human?” he finishes for me, a question in his voice. “He isn’t human. He is a dragon. But…” he pauses, “...he is also a person. And despite what you might think about him, he CHOSE you. He could have rejected the offering, thrown you into the sea. He could have kept you but let you starve. He could have given you away to a friend or sold you in the marketplace. He could have torn you to bits for his amusement.”
He takes a bite of his fruit. I can see he is irritated with me. “Instead he fed you, kept you warm, housed you in style, provided fine clothing and fine things, he even gave you me!” Leon huffs, exasperated. “Do you think I would be sitting here talking to you, spending my day teaching you the basics of how to survive in this household or this world if he did not will it?”
“Are you real?” I ask, uncertain.
He balks for a moment, affronted. “Of course I am, why would you…”
“You mentioned ‘companionship’ before and…”
His laugh is more of a bark than laughter, filling the space with his amusement. It takes him a few minutes to calm down before he can continue.
“I am quite real,” he snorts between giggles. “Here…” he holds out a hand. “Take my hand.”
I take his hand.
“What do you feel? Place your hand here,” he points to the inside of his wrist. “Do you feel that beat, just beneath the skin?”
I nod.
“That is the blood flowing through my veins. Go ahead, check yourself.”
I put my other hand on my wrist and feel the same, steady pulse.
“It is the same,” I admit, “although yours is beating much faster.”
His cheeks flush again, but he continues. “If I were not real if I were made of stone, would I have blood? Would I feel warm to your touch? Stone doesn’t give warmth, it takes it. It doesn’t beat on its own. If I were just another of his creations, I wouldn’t have blood to flow, or a heart to beat or…”
I rush into his arms before he can finish his sentence. “I’m sorry for doubting you, and I’m sorry for frustrating you and being such a difficult student.” I apologize as I rest my cheek on his chest. “Thank you for being such a good friend. I am grateful that Primus chose to send you to me.”
I hold him like this for several minutes, his arms in the air, until they slowly begin to curl around me. As he presses me closer, I can feel his heart beating through his shirt, his natural, musky scent comforting me.
“I am so sorry for doubting you,” I continue to apologize.
He sighs. “I wish you could see your value more clearly.” His voice vibrates through me. “You are worth choosing.”
- Writer
