Chapter 24
Twenty-Four
The fire crackled low in the cave as twilight settled beyond the mouth of stone.
Elowen sat with her knees tucked to her chest, watching Midas move around the hoard searching for comfort among the piles of things.
He was in his dragon form tonight, curled protectively near the fire with his wings folded neatly against his sides, tail resting across the floor, the very tip rising and falling with his steady breaths.
She smiled softly as he reached for a length of velvet she had tucked over a rough pile of coins to make herself a proper seat. He adjusted it without being asked, smoothing it beneath her, then gave a low, pleased huff through his nose.
She had come to know these sounds. He didn’t need words to tell her when he was content. It was in the way he pressed his snout against her side or curled his tail gently around her waist while she read aloud from the old books he’d rescued from ruined chapels.
Lately, he touched her more often. He used the very tip of his tail to stroke her cheek or her back. He nuzzled her with a kind of softness she had never known, not even in childhood. She’d learned that affection, for Midas, was through quiet, instinctive gestures.
She had been thinking lately about the way he showed affection to her, and how she could show it back. Rubbing the scales near his snout and snuggling into his tail at night simply didn’t feel like enough compared to all he had done for her.
Something in her ached to show more human affection, but she was worried he would not understand. Midas kept one golden eye locked on her, sensing her desire to say something but not yet finding the words. She was nervous, he could tell, but whatever it was, he would understand.
“Midas? Can…can you shift for me?” she asked, already feeling guilty for it, knowing it caused him pain and left him exhausted.
But Midas did not hesitate. He moved to a safe distance away from her, and she waited patiently while he took his smaller human form. He came back to rejoin her side and tilted his head. Curious. Waiting.
His skin was streaked in faint scaled patterns, and she traced them along his collarbone. His hair fell in his face, but his golden reptilian eyes remained. They were still molten and watched her carefully.
“You don’t have to stay like this long,” she assured. “I just…wanted to try something.” He said nothing. “You show me so much affection in your own way. I wanted to try something more…human. But I’m worried you might not like it.”
He furrowed his brow, not quite understanding her. It sounded like nonsense to him. “I like it because it is from you.”
He could hear her heart fluttering in her chest, confused why she had suddenly become so nervous. She had spoken of affection…but her behavior did not match. Had he misunderstood? Had he displeased her in some way?
Elowen reached out and brushed her fingertips along his jaw, and his breath hitched in the same way it always did when she touched him tenderly with her gentle hands. He blinked at her and gave her a small, encouraging nod. He trusted her, even if he didn’t quite understand all of her words.
Elowen leaned in closer to him. It was slow enough that he could stop her or push her away, but he didn’t. Her eyes closed just before he could feel her breath across his face, and then her lips touched his. It was…soft.
It was over in an instant. If he hadn’t been so incessantly watching her, he might have even missed it, her mouth so featherlight on his.
He blinked at her when she pulled away, slightly started, slightly confused.
“That was a kiss,” she said, her voice small and embarrassed. “Sometimes…humans do that when they want to thank someone they care for.”
“Kiss.” He looked at her lips, then at her eyes. “Strange,” he murmured.
Instantly, her face fell. “I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have—”
She began to pull away, and he reached out to keep her close. “No,” he said, worrying he had displeased her. “Not bad, just not…dragon.” He tilted his head to the side again, and used a finger to tilt her chin to meet his eyes. “It means thank you?”
She nodded. “Yes. But it can mean lots of things: affection, happiness, relief, love.”
Love.
Midas’ heart stuttered at that word. He stared at her for a long time, memorizing her lips that had so tenderly touched his.
He leaned forward slightly and cupped her cheek in his hand, mindful of his claws.
His hand was far too large for her face, and it trembled as it tried to touch her with the same gentleness that came so easily when she touched him.
Then, slowly, awkwardly, he leaned forward and pressed his lips to hers once more.
It was clumsy. It was firmer than before, and their teeth scraped together at the action.
When he pulled away, he looked up at her with something shining in his eyes that Elowen had never seen, and within him, a feeling in his chest he had never felt.
Her cheeks turned pink, and Midas thought he had made a mess of the action. He stayed in his human form though, quietly hoping she would ‘kiss’ him again.
Later, the scent of smoke and boiling meat filled the cave as she cooked herself supper.
She had been feeding him small spoonfuls of the broth as she let it simmer in the pot over the fire.
She had been trying to teach him the difference between flavors, to show him there was more to taste than raw meat.
A pinch of salt here, a sprinkling of a peppery root there.
Midas insisted they were all the same.
Elowen simply laughed quietly, tasting the broth for herself once more and offering it to him again. He made a face at the small cube of meat that made its way onto the spoon, but dutifully took the bite.
His tongue pressed against the roof of his mouth, sucking the broth from the meat before chewing and swallowing. He narrowed his eyes on her.
“Sufficient,” he murmured, simply to please her so that she would stop feeding it to him.
Elowen beamed at his simple word, radiant and full of life. The warmth in Midas’ chest was greater than any fire he’d ever breathed.
Without thinking, without hesitating, he leaned forward and kissed her.
It was clumsy again. Their teeth bumped together, but it was filled with such an eager affection that Elowen let out a sound of surprise against his lips before melting into it.
He pulled back, his eyes wide and full of hope.
“Happy kiss,” he said. “It was right?”
Elowen blinked once, a bit dazed and confused by his question. Then, suddenly, she was laughing. Midas stared, fascinated by the sound and how her hand covered her flushed face and her warm smile.
“Yes, yes Midas, that was perfect.”
He eased back. His shoulders loosened. A smile tugged at the corner of his mouth. Her palm slid across his jaw and then she leaned in to kiss him again, softly this time. “It was perfect,” she repeated.
He did not understand if he should do it again, or if he should save these kisses so as to not dilute their meaning, but he did know that smile on her face, and he craved it more than anything now, to keep her smiling like that because of something he did.
He leaned in again, slowly and deliberately this time. When their lips touched, her hands circled around his neck and his palms found her waist. He held her gently, so painfully aware of how fragile her marrow bones were, how soft her skin was.
But Elowen didn’t seem afraid of the differences in them—not when she shifted and lifted her legs over his lap until she was seated against him. Her hands cupped his face and her thumbs swept across the remaining scales on his cheek.
She pulled away from his lips for a moment. “Do you trust me?” she whispered.
“Yes,” he said. “Yes.”
Carefully, so not to startle him, her fingers ran down his arms where rough patches of scales broke up his mostly human form. She traced the lines of his back where wing met muscle. Touched the very tips of the horns protruding from his skull. Kissed the tip of his nose.
All this time, Midas’ hands never left her waist, but Elowen felt his hands pressing harder as she explored the upper planes of his chest.
She smiled softly. “You are so careful with me.”
“I must be,” he said immediately. “You are too breakable.”
“Are you afraid of hurting me?”
“Yes.”
Her thumb met his bottom lip, and she watched as she traced it before meeting his eyes again. “I’m not.”
“Not breakable?” he asked.
“Not afraid.”
Midas did not know what to do with that, and so a silence bloomed between them, but it was warm.
Elowen leaned forward again, but this time, she didn’t kiss him. Instead, she buried her face in his neck and held him. He wrapped his arms around her with uncharacteristic gentleness, his hands sliding up and down her spine in steady lines.
He could feel the raised skin beneath her dress, of the marks the humans put on her. Anger flared in his chest, but he held her tighter and nuzzled into her hair with his human nose.
They stayed there like that, pressed heart-to-heart, while fire danced across the walls.