Linton
My Kaitlyn eats the food the innkeeper brought. She occasionally makes noises which rouse my spicket, making it painful in my trousers.
I don’t like trousers, but this is not the place to remove them. Instead I concentrate on working out the flight to weight ratio of my latest dagger, all the while watching as Kaitlyn consumes the food.
I’m not sure I’ve ever watched any creature eat before, not in the way I watch her.
The way she gently blows on the meat liquid and then tips it down her throat using the metal not-dagger.
The way her eyes close as she swallows. The way she flicks the not-dagger from side to side as she bites into the other food which makes a slight crackling sound as she chews.
Finally the bowl is empty, and she puts it down, pouring out a glass of wine from the pitcher. She takes a sip of the red liquid.
For a moment it hangs on her lips. Like blood.
“Would have preferred water, but this is really good.”
I can’t form any words. If I say anything, I think I might explode.
The innkeeper barges into the room, along with a witch about the same size and width as him.
“Is this the Bluecap’s mate?” she asks.
“We’re not mates,” Kaitlyn says quickly.
The witch narrows her eyes at my mate, and I growl under my breath at her impudence, making her look at me.
“If you say so.” She chuckles with a brief glance at the innkeeper.
I only tolerate him because he let me kill a trio of Redcaps who were making a nuisance of themselves in his bar area. Ever since then, no matter when I turn up or what state I’m in, for reasons I cannot fathom, he makes me welcome.
He has to be the only creature in the Yeavering who does not dislike me.
His female also puts up with me, her face beaming even as I growl louder.
“I certainly have at least one dress which I can alter to fit you.” She beams at Kaitlyn too. “Stand up so I can have a good look at you.”
“My wife can measure by eye.” The innkeeper has sidled up to me and gives me a slight nudge in my ribs. “Very useful.”
I bare my teeth at him, but he doesn’t seem to mind.
“My Kaitlyn is a human,” I say loudly. “She is not a witch.”
“A human? How wonderful!” the witch says, lifting Kaitlyn’s arms, making me snarl at her touching my female, then she gets her to turn around. “Such a pretty human.”
A warmth I’m not used to blooms in my chest. I have to put my hand over it to make sure I’m not on fire. It wouldn’t be the first time I was on fire. I suspect it won’t be the last.
I am not on fire.
“Is everything okay?” Kaitlyn asks me.
“I’m just checking I’m not on fire,” I explain.
Her little brow dips and her stunning eyes study mine.
“When did you last feed, Mister Linton?” the innkeeper asks me.
I growl deep in my throat. “I don’t recall.”
Kaitlyn puts her hand on my arm. “I’ve seen an awful lot of things in the Yeavering. If you need to eat…feed…whatever, just do it. I won’t judge you. None of us will.” She looks at the innkeeper and the witch.
I wrinkle my nose with a snort.
“Don’t need to feed,” I grumble.
“Okay then.” Kaitlyn removes her hand, and it’s like it’s still there, burning softly to my bones, her brow still squished in those weird lines.
“I have your room all ready,” the innkeeper chimes happily.
He is always happy. I do not understand why.
“Good. My female needs to rest,” I say pointedly, ushering Kaitlyn forward.
“I’ll bring you your garment,” the witch says, also with a smile on her face. “I’ll make sure to knock first,” she adds.
“There’s really no need,” Kaitlyn replies, following the innkeeper out of the warmth and up a set of stairs.
I’m not sure if I’ve ever been upstairs here before. I usually stay by the fire in a chair, toasting my wings…and shedding.
The innkeeper likes my shed. I suspect he’s the only one.
I keep close to the pair of them as we’re led along a gallery and to a door which he opens, turning back with a smile and ushering us both inside.
There’s a bed at one end and a fireplace at the other. The fire is lit and there are candles dotted around the room. Next to the fireplace is an armchair, and I drop into it.
“Um,” Kaitlyn says, “there’s only one bed.”
“Yes,” The innkeeper says with an even bigger smile. Turning his face to me, he closes one eye really tightly.
I dislike it intensely, but he swiftly unscrews it and goes to the door.
“It will suffice,” I call after him, still puzzled.
“There’s only one bed,” Kaitlyn says.
“I noticed.”
She stares around the room and looks up into the rafters. I’m not sure what she’s looking for.
“I’ll take the chair. You can have the bed; you’re bigger.”
My head swims. Something within me is screaming. I get to my feet, but the room is spinning and spinning, like the time I was flying and hurt my wing.
I close my eyes to stop the movement.
When I open them again, Kaitlyn is bending over me, her hands on either side of my face, her soft skin on mine, her scent in my nostrils, and I wonder if I have finally, finally died.
And she is my reward.