Thirty Nine
Alara
He crests the hill when the sun is high in the sky, my back still against the bars of Blaise’s cage to the side. Not in clear view.
The dragons rumble and purr at his appearance, heads turning as I sag, relief filling me because I knew this would be the place he would go when he returned.
Rohan doesn’t like weakness, and I know he wouldn’t let others see him showing any. Especially after he was poisoned the other day.
So what better place to hide out than with his dragons?
He descends the hill, and my heart beats painfully at the sight of him.
Blood drips down both arms beneath the ribbons, leaving a trail in his wake as he stares ahead, like he’s not really seeing anything.
Yet even bleeding, he’s still a pillar of strength, shoulders back, aggression leaking off of him. Portraying outwardly that he’s fine, but I feel his pain as if it were my own.
It’s invasive, really, that I know his emotions, but I can’t help it. I’m like a sponge soaking them in, unable to control it.
He reaches Agnar first, and the dragon purrs in greeting, but there’s no response from Rohan this time.
No rumble back, no soft words that I could never understand.
Vex is next, followed by Hakkon, then Magnus, and still… no response.
I follow parallel to him through the dragons, keeping my eyes on him as he seems to be wandering aimlessly, not knowing I’m here, which in itself is odd.
I look at his profile, at the tight set of his shoulders, and the tick in his jaw.
Blaise purrs as he passes, same with Hedoric and Doren, but it’s like he can’t even hear them.
I can feel the anger within him, ready to release and spread devastation as he tries to hold it back. But beneath that anger is so much pain and grief that it nearly swallows me.
What has happened? I want to ask. What caused you to feel this way?
But I’m scared of the answer, and then I remember that I told myself that I was done being frozen by fear.
He moves past Escor to Drogonah, the last of the cages, and Rohan growls, the sound making my insides tremble at the violence within it, and I suck in a sharp breath. He stills.
I swallow, pausing my steps and slowly, ever so slowly, he turns his head, dark eyes locking with mine.
My own widen at how fiercely the purple shines within, at the fury swirling around them.
“Rohan?”
Drogonah rumbles, looking back and forth between us as Escor sits up, ears flat.
“What are you doing here?” he says, voice flat.
I take a step toward him, but he moves one back.
I pause, frowning.
Why is he stepping away from me?
“I was already here… are you okay?”
He looks me over, hands clenching. More blood splatters on the ground, dripping like a river.
“We need to check your—”
“Leave.” He cuts me off, and a startled whimper escapes me.
I remember the last time he said those words to me, and what followed after.
The cold, the pain, the hurt.
I look into his eyes, to see if he means it, and though I sense the undercurrent of guilt running through him, he does.
I take a step back instinctively. “I’m sorr—” I cut myself off, clamping my lips shut.
No.
I am not the same person I was then.
I stand taller. “No. I won’t,” I say firmly, and his eyes flare in surprise.
“Alara, I need you to leave.”
His voice is guttural, low. Pained.
I shake my head. “No, Rohan.”
My voice is gentle this time, but steady.
He curses, running a hand through his hair as he begins to pace.
I let him, feeling his restless energy while keeping my distance.
He won’t hurt me, but I don’t want to push him either when he feels so… volatile. I haven’t ever felt this from him before.
He looks at me, shakes his head and growls some more, fists clenching as the dragons rumble their purrs to him.
“You need to leave, get away from me,” he mutters. “Get away. Just go away.”
“No,” I say softly, and when his face contorts, I can’t take it anymore.
Because beneath the fury, I feel his pain.
Not so much physical… but of the heart. Of the soul.
I move slowly, one small step at a time and he notices, growling with each step I take toward him, and Drogonah shifts behind me, wary.
“I’m alright,” I mumble to him as Rohan grabs his forearm, fingers squeezing the ribbon there. More blood pours out as he digs in.
I move quicker, not wanting him to hurt himself and then my hand is closing over his, and he becomes as still as stone.
Frozen like ice.
I breathe out, steadying my own emotions as I slowly peel back his fingers one by one.
“Don’t do that,” I say softly, but his eyes stay focused on my hand. He won’t look at me. “Don’t hurt yourself.”
He releases a harsh exhale.
He trembles.
It starts in his fingers, hands, moving up his arms to reach his shoulders. His chest heaves, and I can hear how he grinds his teeth.
The dragons whimper, Drogonah growls low.
“It’s okay,” I tell him, his hand now in mine and I bring his palm up, placing it on my chest, right over my heart.
His eyes meet mine, and a sound leaves him.
Horrible, full of agony.
Devastating.
Like he couldn’t contain it any longer.
He crashes to his knees.
I go down with him, hands now on either side of his face as he seems to stare right though me. The dragons all sit up, alert. Worried.
“He did it again,” Rohan says, eyes glazed. “He came back for her again and again. And I didn’t know.” His nostrils flare. “I didn’t fucking know!”
“I’m sorry,” I whisper, not knowing what else to say.
“That was my mother,” he croaks out, eyes now locking onto mine as my heart beats painfully. “My fucking mother, Alara, and he came back for her again. And again.”
My brows furrow. He… he can’t mean.
“He came back to rape her.”
Oh no.
His shoulders shake, eyes glassy. Full of agony.
“He did…” he heaves, shaking his head. “He did that again, and again, and again.”
“Shhh.” I pull him down, and he rests his forehead on my shoulder as my hand goes to the back of his neck.
“Again, and again, and again.”
Tears sting my eyes when I feel the torment within him, the wetness on the side of my neck.
“Again and again.”
My throat tightens. “I’m so sorry, Rohan.”
His hands come to my sides, fingers digging in. It hurts, but I don’t care.
He needs me, so I’ll be here for him, no matter what.
I try to steady my racing heart, try to be calm in his pain-filled storm.
“Again and again.”
“Oh, Rohan,” I say when he gags, moving to the side and retching, but nothing comes up.
“Fuck, fuck, fuck,” he shouts, his voice breaking. He punches the ground. The dragons make panicked noises. “Fuck.”
The anguish in his voice makes me hurt. A sharp and intent stabbing pain shooting right through my chest, but I breathe through it.
I will take his pain, I will share it.
I grab the back of his head again and pull him into me once more. He comes willingly and I lean my back against Drogonah’s cage.
Tears fall down my cheeks as the dragons watch on, the heat from Drogonah pouring into us at my back.
And there, beneath the late afternoon sky surrounded by his dragons, Rohan Asgarr, Dragonbond, rider of Drogonah, the leader of clan Blackscale, breaks.
I hum to him while he sleeps, making sure to keep my voice down so we can continue to hide from everyone under the now starry sky.
His head is on my chest, arms around me as he lays there, my smaller body curling around him.
Sleep finally took him just as the sun began to set, and I couldn’t move, couldn’t disturb him.
Sometimes sleep is the only thing that can give you peace.
He’s heavy, but I’m used to him laying on me in some way while we sleep.
Most of the dragons still watch us, some are asleep.
Drogonah has been purring since he slept too, and Escor has been silently observing, confused.
The young dragon has probably never seen Rohan like this.
I shift a little, my body cramping at being in the same position for a long time.
I stroke through his hair, my fingers trailing over the braids I’ve done as Drogonah presses up against the bars at my back.
He hasn’t moved either.
Rohan begins to stir.
It starts with a twitch of his fingers, his arms squeezing me closer.
“Hi,” I say gently when he tips his face up to mine.
He looks exhausted.
“Hey,” he replies, tone gruff, and I palm his cheek. He leans into the touch, eyes closing for a moment as he takes a deep breath.
He sits up, grabbing me around the waist and reversing our position.
Now he’s leaning back against Drogonah’s cage with me straddling him.
He runs his fingers through my hair and I lean into the touch.
“How are you feeling?” I ask.
He’s silent for a while before he finally answers. “Fucked.”
I nod, placing my hand over his beating heart.
“I’m sorry, Rohan.”
He sighs, head tilting back to look up at the stars.
“I didn’t know,” he eventually says, not looking at me.
“I thought it was just the night I was conceived. My mother never told me anything else before she passed. But he came back for her many times. Thinking about it, I remember her telling me to wait for her at home if I would wake in the night and she wasn’t there.
She said she was helping the clan, which would often happen, but then I remember some nights I would wake when she came back.
Her hair would be messy, eyes puffy and she said she was tired, walking like she was hurt.
But it wasn’t helping the clan, was it?” he asks, agonized eyes coming back to mine.
I slowly shake my head, unable to lie to him. “Probably not.”
He nods in acceptance.
“Why would he tell you all of this?” I ask, taking some of his hair and stroking it back.
“To torment me.”
“I hate him,” I say quietly, anger rising within me. “He… he needs to be gone.”
“When did you become bloodthirsty?”
I swallow. “He hurt you.”
His eyes flare, and he brings my face to his, placing a kiss to my forehead. “No one has ever cared like you have,” he mumbles against me.
I pull back, frowning. “Rohan, the whole clan cares for you.”
“I’m their leader.”
“You are their protector. You think they won’t protect you in return?”
Now he’s frowning. “They never have to do that, I wouldn’t ask them to.”
I shake my head. “How can you not know?”
His brows furrow. “Know what?”
“That they would protect you too?”
He blinks at that, and I give him a soft smile.
“Family protects one another, you’re their family.”
“And what are you?” he asks in a quiet tone.
“Yours,” I reply simply, without hesitation.
His eyes flare in satisfaction. “And I’m yours.”
I nod. “You are. So let me see to your wounds.”
I grab his arm gently and feel the blood pooling under the ribbon.
I swallow over my rising nausea.
He hisses and I pause, eyes going to him.
After a nod from him, I undo the knot on the ribbon and gently start to unwind it.
It takes everything in me not to throw up.
The skin is melted, some areas so much so that I swear I see bone.
“Rohan…” My voice trembles, choking on the word.
“It’s already healing. They poured healing salve on it. I’ll be better in the morning. I’m okay.”
“Okay?” I croak, and then I stand, taking his hand and pulling softly. He obliges and stands, allowing me to guide him to the river through the trees.
I step into it, pulling him with me.
“You’ll be cold,” he admonishes.
“Hush,” I say, and he raises a brow in amusement as my boots fill with water.
“Did you just tell me to be quiet?” he asks, and I nod, taking the ribbon off of him and dunking it in the water.
“I did, so do as you’re told.”
I swear I hear the dragons laughing at that in the distance.
“It seems that fire of yours is igniting more and more,” he says softly, and I look up into his eyes that are so full of admiration, of something deeper I don’t dare to say.
“You light it,” I tell him honestly, and he grits his teeth.
“Don’t say things like that if you want to finish cleaning my arms.”
“What? Why?” I ask, cupping water in my hands and pouring it over him, washing away the blood.
“Because I will bend you over the bank.”
My cheeks heat and I squirm. “Rohan. Now isn’t the time for that.”
“You think after saying that to me that I won’t want to be as close to you as possible? Joined in every way? Want to worship you?”
“But we’re outside,” I mumble, cleaning his other arm.
His voice drops to a low gravel. “That didn’t stop us the other day…”
My cheeks heat. “You’re hurt though, in more ways than one.”
“You always make it better, Alara. You’re the one I think of when I’m losing it, the one I hold on to. No matter what, I’ll always want to be as close to you as possible.” He steps closer to me. “And you always want that too. The closeness, don’t you?”
I bite my lip.
“Hmm. What would the guards on the walls think if they saw you taking it, wanting it? Looking down upon us as I show you just how much you mean to me?”
“Rohan.” I squirm, my eyes going up to said walls, noting the flickering torches. “This is not appropriate.”
He chuckles darkly. “When have I ever been?” He runs a hand down my side, pulling me to him. “They would know you belong to me, though, wouldn’t they?”
“They would,” I breathe.
“Yeah they would. They would hear you moan, hear you begging me for more and they would reach into their breeches and touch their little cocks at the sight of you, dreaming about it when they sleep at night. But they would never get you, Alara,” he rumbles, and I moan when his hand lifts to my throat, squeezing lightly in a possessive hold.
“They won’t touch you, will they? They won’t see you like that either, will they? ”
“Never.”
“Never.” he agrees. “Do you know why?”
I nod.
“Words.”
“Yes, I know why,” I say, eyes fluttering at his touch.
“Say it.”
“Rohan.”
“Say it,” he says softly. “Tell me why.”
“Because you would kill them.”
His grin is feral. “Yes, I would.”