“There is sometimes a fine line between awe and fear,” the man replied with a truth Arthur felt all the way down his spine. “Or lust,” the man added, to set Arthur’s skin aflame. “But no, none here should fear dragons as long as the dragons are respected and honored.”
“I have never seen a dragon outside of drawings or in carvings,” Arthur revealed, a bit wistful. “I am supposed to kill this one.” He could not face the man at this admission, and shifted his gaze to the side, though he could see the man go still. “To protect the people, my lord said, but if that were so, the Duke would have done it, or my lord would send his army and not simply me. My real mission is to offer the Duke insult with this gesture, or to die so my brother can blame him for my death. I’m to be the excuse for war. My lord thinks he is clever, choosing this for my duty.”
“Will you do it?”
Arthur let out a small, sad laugh. “It is my duty, but the dragon is not my enemy. I’ve no desire to hurt something that has committed no wrongs. The dragon has only been a dragon, even if its lonely tears have brought me here tonight.”
The man released a long, slow breath. “A truly honorable pearl,” he said at last. “If you will not fight the dragon, what will you do?”
“I cannot return home without some explanation, or false tale of adventure.” Arthur held out his hands and met the man’s dark gaze. “In all honesty, I feel the people here might resent me if I tried to hurt their dragon—and it istheirs, in a way. Not as the Duke or the King might wear a dragon’s image, but similar. Is it very powerful, this dragon?”
“Yes.” The man was almost breathless. “And it only grows more so when it has claimed more treasure to guard.”
Arthur’s heart was heavy, although he had no intention of fighting the beast. “And strong?”
“Yes,” the man said again, no less intense. “You would never have reason to doubt its strength.”
Arthur dropped his shoulders and gave the man a small, only slightly despairing smile. “And it is beloved. So… I do not know what to do.”
“What if itwasharming people?” The question was startling. Arthur frowned, but the man appeared to be serious. “What would you do then?”
Arthur continued to frown, but now it was thoughtful. “I’d wonder why the Duke did not try to stop it,” he answered first, honestly. “He is supposed to be a great man. But if he did nothing, or failed, I would find it. I am not the greatest warrior,” he added. “Or the strongest. But I would try to stop it, if I could. But if the dragon is as powerful as you say, I would do more good with the help of the Duke, or the Duke’s army.” Arthur sighed. “If hewantsmy help. He is not the Baron, but I think, and please do not believe me ungrateful or dishonorable, but I would gladly swear allegiance to a lord who…”
“Valued you?” the man finished for him. “Knew you for what you are and what you might be?”
Arthur did not deny it, though the words sent a pang through him and made him feel the way a weeping, lonely dragon might. “Though, again, there is nothing I have that he would want.”
“I doubt that.” The man did not lean back despite the rising, sparking flames. “As I do not doubt that you would try to give people aid against a beast, though you might fail. This is true bravery, to journey to a strange land alone and face unfamiliar dangers. Exceptional bravery to defy your lord and your duty to him in order to do what is just. For you and for others.”
Arthur studied the man in disbelief. “You are teasing me.”
“Am I?” With a small shake of his head, and the addition of another piece of wood to the fire, the man made Arthur warm again. He had grown closer, somehow, when he had stretched for the firewood. His eyes did not leave Arthur. “You gavemeaid, with no reason to trust me. And you look as if you know how to use your weapons.”
Arthur’s chest was too tight for laughter, but he attempted a light smile. “I would have to get close to do any good.”
“You think the dragon would not let you close?” the man wondered. Arthur had been wrong to compare him to a cat before, when he was nearly purring now. “Or the Duke, for that matter?” the man added, fiercer. “With a face and soul such as yours?”
Turning toward him was a mistake, though it did not feel like one with Arthur flushed and dizzy. The man put a hand to Arthur’s cheek, careful and reverent, and watched Arthur blush and wet his lips and stare back at him with what Arthur knew was open hunger.
“You’re very beautiful,” Arthur whispered, distantly embarrassed at his daring.
But the man had approached him first, and his voice was pleased when he answered, “Little bear-prince, you are still cold. Will you allow me to warm you?”
Arthur could think of many reasons not to, but not one was worth anything compared to that question. He nodded, certain but clumsy, and was swept into a kiss that left him gasping, his face buried against the man’s throat as he was pulled onto his lap. Arthurwaslittle, but had never felt so until this, with hot hands at his back and then beneath his chin to tip it up again for more kisses. Arthur was scalding hot and prickling with it, unable to control his shivers when those roving hands untied his sash and touched his bare skin. He thought he should do something in return, he could feel what his eager movements were doing to the man underneath him, but his hands had slipped into the man’s sleek hair would not be parted from it.
He left his mouth soft and open, to be kissed often, and finished, sudden and hot, for the whispers of praise against his lips. Arthur shuddered in pleasure and humiliation for spilling like this with only one hand on his stomach and another at his back. He had not even been touched, not truly, but he was kissed for that, too, before embarrassment could make him pull away to stammer an apology.
“The rarest of pearls,” was hot against his ear, like the man’s lips as they brushed Arthur’s neck before returning to his mouth to tease Arthur into moaning.
When the man finally let Arthur catch his breath, still trembling while sitting on the man’s lap, Arthur shook his head. “I should—”
“We have time.” The rain continued to pour down. That must be what the man meant. One night, at least, unless Arthur would see him again. He might. The man had to live somewhere nearby.
The man resumed stroking Arthur’s skin. Arthur arched into it, perhaps a cat himself.
“You are too kind,” he praised the man in return, and wished for more, although it was likely impossible. “Is the Duke as kind?” His tongue was thick on the words. The hands petting him stopped. “Would he have a use for me?” Arthur blundered on, his thinking too slow yet to allow him to say what he meant.
But the petting resumed, and with it, more kisses along Arthur’s throat. “Would you like to stay here? Is that what you are trying to say, pearl?”
