Somewhere in Faerûn, a man catches an eye of the local red dragon.

2400 Words


The fiery heart

Part 2





“And a little bit o this, and a little bit of that, and a little bit of this, and a little bit of…” Ceirys sang, dumping inconsiderate amounts of various spices into an oversized bowl.

Unfortunately for Fulvio, she was also dancing to her own tune… which for his bound-up form meant constant swings and never-ending vertigo as she shook her hips, dangerously unaware just how close she was coming to squishing him against the wall… Or maybe, perfectly aware and deriving some sick pleasure from his spikes of fear.

He could never tell. But she kept doing it every time.

“Saaaaaaalt! Aaaaaand! Peppeeeer!” she wailed, her voice cracking from going higher than she was capable of.

“Ceirys, please! Just put me down already!” he scoffed, reaching another one of his limits.

“Sweetling wan…” She coughed and hit her chest with a building-crushing force, which proved just enough to clear her throat. “Sweetling wants to stretch his legs? Alright, you can watch mommy cook.”

The dragoness slid him out of his restraints, gave him a sly grin… and shoved him straight into the golden cage on the kitchen counter. The bars slammed shut as her hand retreated, leaving him in the familiar, luxurious prison she had made just for him.

He disliked the cage – it was still degrading, but… less so than the alternative. And unfortunately, also comfortable, which made him almost appreciate it. Silk and gooseling feathers Ceirys chose for the interior were likely worth more than he would have earned in several lifetimes of his usual job at the bakery – it was beyond opulent…

And yet, no matter how exquisite, a cage would remain a cage. He gave himself just half a minute of relaxing, before his pride and determination forced him to stand up and make for the exit. The thing that always confused him about the whole thing was that… it wasn’t locked. Hell, it didn’t even have a lock – he could just push on the door, and it would open.

Fulvio observed as his joyful tormentor dropped slabs of meat into the bowl and began shaking it – still to the rhythm of her awful singing. He pressed against the bars and stepped outside.

Without even looking, Ceirys’s finger darted straight at him and pushed at his head, forcing him back inside.

“Patience, sweetling…” Ceirys cooed, closing his cage with the same finger. “Wouldn’t want you falling in just yet.” She winked at him.

Before Fulvio could collect himself, Ceirys breathed a narrow stream of fire to ignite a fireplace, before dumping all the meat onto a frying pan the size of a small town’s square. Very soon, sizzling could be heard.

Determined to try getting out again, Fulvio pushed the door open once more…

This time, the tip of Ceirys’s tail sprang to hit him in the gut and tipped him over, with the pillows lining the floor being the only reason why he didn’t hurt his butt.

“What did I just say?” she glanced at him, before grabbing his cage and moving it over to the table.

With a much better view at his oppressor came a bit more leniency in moving around, even if just on the table itself – there was no plausible way for him to get down on the floor from here. He tried… many times. The most successful attempt had him break his leg and spend two months in the cage.

Truth be told, being wounded had an advantage – she bothered him a bit less.

Refusing to sit in the cage, yet self-aware enough, Fulvio dragged a few pillows out to sit on and wait, which didn’t take long. The dragoness placed a plate of steaming meat on the table and sat on an oversized pillow so that her head would be right behind Fulvio, before carefully presenting him with a human-sized plate with his own meal.

“Bon Appetit, little sweetling,” Ceirys whispered and blew hot air at his back, sending chills down his spine.

Fulvio stared at the meat in front of him with slight revulsion for a good few seconds, before picking up his cutlery.

It was just meat as usual, which was beyond tiring… But that wasn’t the worst of it. He hated it. Loathed it. Despised it with every fiber of his being… But the truth was undeniable - the meat was exquisite. Ceirys knew how to cook, and it frustrated him nearly to the point of tears.

A sound of meat getting torn apart informed him that she got busy with her own meal, though the sound’s intensity betrayed just how close behind she was hovering… But even without it, he could literally feel her intense, blood-red eyes drilling into the back of his skull, waiting for him to turn around just so he could get a reaction from him – something he was adamantly avoiding out of spite.

Ceirys finished her meal first and placed her head on the table right behind him – Fulvio’s sleeves were moving in sync with her breath, driving his urge to eat faster and faster and…

He finished the last bite, then turned to face her with the most neutral expression he could muster.

“Did you like it?” she asked, wiping his mouth with a tissue, while her eyes focused on him so hard he nearly felt physical pain from it.

“It was alright.” He shrugged.

Her mouth transformed into a horrific grin of nothing but fangs.

“I’m glad you liked it.”

Her piercing, blood-red eyes stared at him with an intensity that threatened to melt him in an instant, had his resolve faltered. But Fulvio persevered... Or more aptly, endured, until her head cocked a little with the curiosity of an overgrown cat she so much resembled.

“Do I get a smooch for that?” she cooed, exposing her cheek.

Fulvio clenched his teeth and shook his head with glacial speed, causing her to smirk.

“I love how hard to get you’re playing,” she whispered, booping his nose.

Before he could respond, Fulvio found himself in the tight, yet somewhat tender grip of a dragon’s hand as she carried him away into the familiar chamber at the deep end of her lair. Well, chamber wasn’t exactly the right word. It was a cavern – tall, wide and overall spacious enough for her to fly in. The ever-present scratch marks’ origins on the walls and floor still proved a mystery to him, though he suspected that she either fought in here many times, or expanded it with bare hands. He didn’t know which option terrified him more.

Ceirys made for the only thing of note in the chamber... Though it didn’t say much, since it would have been THE thing of note when placed next to literally anything. An enormous pile of gold, silver and every gem known to man, probably worth more than half of Waterdeep. Ceirys collapsed onto it, causing several small avalanches of coins, and began writhing in it, letting out deep hums and moans of pure pleasure. Once half submerged in treasure like one would be in a bathtub, she placed Fulvio on her exposed belly and with both hands freed, poured a few waterfalls of gold all over her still exposed parts, giggling greedily the entire time.

“No!” Fulvio screamed when her loaded hand moved above him, offering the same dubious pleasure she was indulging in.

Fortunately, she spared him another crushing headache.

“Yesss... Gold… My gold…” Ceirys purred, her eyes unfocused and drifting apart in pure bliss.

The moment of peace passed quickly though, with her gaze regaining intensity and putting him in the crossfire again.

“And my treasure.” She forcefully petted him again, before asking playfully. “What are we reading today?”

“I don’t...” he began scoffing, but hesitated mid-sentence. “Maybe we could finish ‘The fall of Netheril’... We were getting close to finishing it last time, right?”

Ceirys considered it for a moment and nodded approvingly, before freeing her hand and reaching for a secondary hoard of hers – one made out of books. She adjusted her glasses and with almost uncanny care opened the miniscule tome with a tip of her claw. Her pupils transformed into razor thin, vertical slits when she focused on the text that by all means should have been way too small for her to read.

“The great floating cities were beset by the scourge from beyond the veil. The citizens were helpless, for the beasts fed on the magic itself, making the arcane weapons used against them worthless...”





***





The night was growing old, yet he couldn’t find sleep. Not because of the Karsus’s Folly or the vivid images it created, but because he was tired. That sort of tiredness that prevented any rest from reaching him. The overpowering, paralyzing mental exhaustion creeping into the very core of his being. Fulvio was reaching his end and could feel it.

Her belly was soft and tender now, comfortable enough for sleeping even if he wasn’t so terribly used to it. What he couldn’t get used to was the hand pressing into him and securing his form against it. The heat emanating from her was just obnoxious, not letting him fall asleep properly, forcing him to wait until a heat stroke aided by fatigue knocked him out… just like every night.

Fulvio impotently pushed against the grip but couldn’t force even a single finger to so much as budge, never mind relent. Starting to hyperventilate from fear and frustration, he punched her fingertip, making her stir just a little as a single, baleful eye opened far behind him.

“Yes, sweetling?”

“I…” He hesitated, thinking of a way out of the inevitable cuddling session. “I need bathroom. Please?”

She closed her eye and sleepily nodded, releasing him to take care of his need. Fulvio slid off of her belly and ventured forth through the uneven, stone floor. It was quite the trek for someone his size, never mind doing it in near darkness while nearly falling over from exhaustion… but he had to keep up the appearances. He passed through the living room, the kitchen and finally made his way to the cave’s exit.

Fulvio stood at the cliff’s edge, letting the freezing wind wash over him and take away all the excess heat his tormented body was still carrying… Which was less than one’d think, for one simple reason – it was cold. Ceirys’s mountain peak was more than chilly at the best of days… and it was night. Temperatures would often fall below freezing, with snow not being uncommon. That cold would permeate the entire cave, often leaving remnants of water in pots and dishes frozen. It didn’t bother her in the slightest of course – in fact, Fulvio suspected she actually liked being able to cool off to the more comfortable ‘nearly boiling’ point.

For him though… For him, it meant that he basically had to sleep at least near her to not freeze… Not that it mattered, since she was keeping him close regardless.

Fulvio sat on the rock shelf, his back slamming against the cold, hard rock behind him. His strength suddenly left him, and all his limbs went limp. He could still see his own footprints leading down the mountain – the only evidence of today’s escape attempt. To the right, the steppingstones leading north, where the road was clearest – the path he took the most often. To the left, a gradual ramp he took the first few times… He felt a sudden rush, an urge to get up and run now, get away from the monster who robbed him of everything… But it was gone as soon as it appeared.

Each ‘breach of her trust’ meant more restrictions. When he tried to run away while she cooked, she began putting him in the cage. When he ran away while she slept, she began sleeping with her hand on him. If he ran away on a bathroom break…

Chills went down his spine, imagining her red eyes staring at him each time he had to go. That was a line he wouldn’t cross - bathroom breaks were sacred.

Fulvio clawed at his face. It was worthless. Everything he could do, anything he could think to do… His father was right after all – he was worthless… Good for nothing bag of trash… The only thing he was capable of being was a dragon’s plaything…

He felt tears freezing in the middle of his cheeks, forming an icy waterfall that cracked with every sob, every tiny movement he made. For all he cared, he could just stay here and freeze to death at this point – maybe in the afterlife he could regain some freedom…

A part of him scoffed at the thought. It was naïve - why would gods be any less oppressive when they already owned your soul? At best, he would get forced to slave away for the rest of eternity, brainwashed into fake happiness like that cleric had shown. Ceirys at least let him keep his thoughts…

Why didn’t she kill him? Why did she choose to… torment him? He still remembered when she first caught him – his raging terror, the desperation and fear, his screams she silenced with nothing but her thumb. Fulvio knew stories of red dragons – cruel wyrms focused only on gold, death and destruction – and fully expected to end up getting roasted or boiled alive just because it would have been more cruel than getting eaten alive…

The fact that she resorted to psychological torment instead…

“Sweetling?” Ceirys’s thundering voice reverberated from within the cave.

“I-I’m almost done! Give me 5 more minutes!” he yelled back, instantly getting back up to actually do the deed.

He could not give up. That was the one thing he could not and would not ever do.

Fulvio came back to find her fully awake and ready to stand up from her hoard at any second. The corner of her mouth twitched almost imperceptibly, and her gaze transformed from anticipation to content. Fulvio tried to lay down on the gold next to her, determined to at least try spending the night on the cold metal, but was almost instantly scooped up and firmly placed back on her belly.

“Good night, sweetling…” she purred, tracing his back with her thumb and getting comfortable on the gold again.

Fulvio sighed heavily, feeling his body regaining all the heat in the span of a few seconds. Tomorrow was another day…





***