Pet Peeve

by V.A. Turner

Brown brick cellar

“Oh, my head,” Darena’th groaned as he opened his bloodshot sapphire blue eyes a bit, daylight spilling into his sleeping area from the open arched stone window frames and stabbing his brain like an icepick. He slowly lifted his broad alabaster white head on its long, thick neck first and then stretched up onto all four feet. His long white tail swished slowly out behind him, his wings still held close to his body. He gave a tentative sniff at the warm air that followed the light in from outside. Now, where do I know that smell from? he thought to himself, wrinkling his snout.

 “The whole bloody cellar,” he commented to himself, shaking his sore head slowly. 

“Miran’th,” he called out into the empty space, the large dark grey stone pillars holding the vaulted ceiling, the arches crossing high above, the roof riddled with holes, the floor littered with various sized chunks of stone. “Miran’th, would you believe that bloody duke’s whole wine cellar was bad?” His broad accent echoed through the ruined cathedral. “My head is splitting and my stomach is on fire.” He chuckled a moment to himself, “Now that’s funny.”

“I’ve made a joke, Miran’th,” he called out again. “A dragon with his stomach on fire. Would be funnier if it weren’t true,” he said to himself, morose.

Darena’th listened for a moment, head tilted slightly, puzzled by the quietness.

“Miran’th, where are you?” he called as he staggered from the choir, where he had been sleeping, into the empty nave of the cathedral. “And what’s that smell? Something stinks of -”

The sight that met his bloodshot eyes brought him up short.

“Human,” he finished at seeing the small shape sitting on the cold flagstone floor. It sat upright against a pillar, arms hugging its knees, which were brought up to its chest, its brown eyes wide in fear.

“Hullo,” said Darena’th pleasantly. “I’m sorry. I didn’t realize we had company. I must apologize for my current state,” he stammered. “You see, I’ve had an entire cellar of decidedly bad wine and I’m afraid I’m feeling a bit rough.”

The little blond child didn’t move, never taking her eyes from Darena’th. “Dragon,” she croaked quietly, lifting a tiny hand straight out in front of her to point at him.

Darena’th nodded slowly, and spoke gently, “Yes, child. Dragon. Well done,” he said in congratulatory tone, smiling in what he hoped was an encouraging way. He paused, feeling clumsy, then asked, “Now, have you seen my mate? She’s a purple and green dragon, about twenty feet long?” He held his paws wide apart.

The child pointed toward the jagged, open wall in what had probably been the front entrance to the cathedral. “Lake,” she said plainly.

“Ah, of course,” he said to himself more than to the girl. “I should have known.” Then he said pleasantly to the girl, “Now, if you will excuse me, I must go find about an acre of mint to settle my stomach. In the meantime, make yourself at home,” he said congenially, feeling somewhat awkward.

As he strode through the opening and out into the bright, cloudless day, he had to turn his head, eyes squinted as he met the afternoon sun. The rolling green landscape stretched out before him, the warm air smelling of springtime. Darena’th unfurled his mighty wings to stretch and have a good shake, the sun giving a faint iridescent blue tinge to his white scales. The wind from his exercise blew the leaves off the nearby oak trees.

Darena’th found Miran’th, his mate, having her morning bath in the lake at the bottom of the hill.

“There you are,” said Darena’th. “Did you have any of that duke’s cellar?” he asked. “I think the whole thing was rotten. I have the worst headache and my stomach is on fire.”

He waited for a reaction.

“No, I didn’t,” said Miran’th sharply as she stepped gracefully onto the bank of the lake, her iridescent violet and emerald scales seeming to change from one color to the other in the sun as she moved. “You had it all before I’d even had a chance,” her accent equal to his.

That wasn’t the reaction he was expecting.

“That old duke’s winery never could make decent wine,” Miran’th continued smugly. “Wouldn’t doubt for a second it was all vinegar. Serves you right, I should think.”

“A dragon with his stomach… Oh, never mind,” said Darena’th, exasperated, realizing she wasn’t going to take the bait. “Listen, did you know there’s a human child in our home? Female, I think. Hard to tell when they’re that young. Looks to be about eight years old.”

 “It is female,” said Miran’th, softening as they walked back toward their home. “She followed me home from the village this morning. I had gone out for some mutton and she followed me home,” Miran’th explained, her amethyst eyes not quite meeting Darena’th’s.

“Followed?” asked Darena’th, suspiciously, eyes narrowing. “Or did you lead it?”

“She was cold and hungry,” she said defensively.

“Have you gone mental?” he exclaimed incredulously, stopping to look at her squarely. “Did it cross your mind that her father might have some quixotic notion to come looking for her? Or worse, that he might actually be a knight? You and your pets,” he scolded. “This never ends well. Remember last time, the horse?”

“You ate the horse,” Miran’th said evenly, giving him an equally square look.

“Oh,” he said, taken aback. “Right. So I did. Listen, sorry about that. I thought you’d brought home supper.”

“It was a beautiful horse,” Miran’th shook her head, remembering as they continued home.

“Right tasty, too.”

“Stop that! Do you hear me! You stop that right now. You are not eating that little girl.”

What?” Darena’th exclaimed, horrified at the thought. “No, of course not. I don’t even like human,” he protested. “Eat the little girl. Reminds me, I still need to find some mint. Did I tell you my stomach -”

“Is on fire,” Miran’th interrupted, annoyed. “Yes, I heard you. A regular comedian, you are. I wouldn’t go quitting my day job.”

They stopped as they realized a pair of brown eyes was watching them. The little girl had come out of the cathedral at the sound of raised voices. She stood before them, tiny by comparison, the top of her head not quite mid-thigh to them. She was dressed in a coarse, oatmeal colored chemise that ended just above her ankles, revealing her bare feet on the grass.

“Hello, dear,” said Miran’th softly, smiling at the girl. “I hope we didn’t frighten you. Mean old Darena’th isn’t going to eat you. Friendly Miss Miran’th won’t let him,” she said, putting a paw on her chest.

“That’s right,” said Darena’th indignantly. “Make me out to be the baddie. No, little one,” he said just as quietly to the girl, “I’m not going to eat you. I don’t even like human.” He paused, then asked, “Listen, is your father a knight by any chance? It’s just that I don’t want to do anything to upset you.”

The girl just looked blankly back at him, speechless, awestruck.

He looked back to Miran’th. “You know what we have to do,” he said compassionately.

“We have to take her home,” said Miran’th sadly.

“Yes, but we can do it in style,” grinned Darena’th, a twinkle in his sapphire eye.

“Do you mean -” Miran’th excitedly clasped her paws together, the glisten of a tear in her amethyst eye.

“That’s right.” He turned to the little girl. “Little one, how would you like to fly?”

Impossible as it seemed, the little girl’s brown eyes grew even wider. Before she could protest, Darena’th gently picked her up and carried her to Miran’th.

“Would you do the honors?” asked Darena’th.

“It would be my pleasure,” she beamed as she turned to receive the girl. Darena’th placed the girl onto Miran’th’s back just in front of her wings.

“Hold on tight, little one,” said Miran’th, craning her head around to speak to the girl.

The girl put her arms around Miran’th’s neck as far as she could reach, which wasn’t all the way around but far enough to ensure she wouldn’t fall off.

“Here we go!” cried Miran’th. And with a mighty flap of her wings, they were flying, Darena’th right behind them. They flew high over the treetops, the ground below them a blur. The young girl’s eyes watered as they flew into the wind.

It was a short flight to the wooded area that bordered village. Darena’th lifted the girl down from Miran’th’s back and set her on the ground. The girl exhaled and the dragons realized she had been holding her breath. She staggered a bit from the ride as she began walking toward the village. The dragons watched, feeling bittersweet, as she stopped at the edge of the woods to turn and wave goodbye. She turned back toward the village to run the rest of the way home.

Darena’th turned to Miran’th. “So, what’s for breakfast?” he asked expectantly.

“You!” she said, exasperated. “Always thinking about your stomach!”

It was a much longer flight home for Darena’th.

Category: Featured, Short Story