#vayreltr

The dragon grins at her, their featureless orange eyes and elongated face difficult to read.

“Is that really what you want to ask me?” The creature’s voice is an odd mix of animal growl and noble sophistication. Like a stormcloud with particularly good diction.

Arenin shifts uneasily in place. The dragon is sitting back on their haunches, watching her intently, tail flicking to and fro. She wants to stand up, but she fears it will entice the creature to attack her if their intentions are hostile. If she is to escape, she’ll have to take stock of the situation and make a plan. Not upsetting the status quo will give her more time.

“You make a fair point; I suppose it’s obvious what you are.” Arenin glances around. The stone shelf upon which they sit is probably about a hundred feet wide, and higher up than that. By how much she doesn’t know. Distance was hard to judge from the panicked confines of the dragon’s talons as she was carried up from the plains below. She can see the ocean stretching out to meet a cloudless blue horizon. Shame, she thinks. It’s such a fine day in all other respects. If she’s to get down from here, a drop into water is her best chance. Unfortunately, the sea side of the plateau is at the dragon’s back. She’s going to have to get past them.

The dragon continues to stare at her expectantly, flashing that same unnerving smile. Those teeth look sharp.

She sighs. It’s not a good plan, but as soon as the dragon makes a move, she’ll be ready. Maybe she can get around them. Or, better, underneath them if they leap at her. Her bag is too cumbersome to take with her. She looks at it longingly. Two weeks of work mapping out the plains, all for nothing now. Unless this dragon’s got a use for her amateur cartography. Amusement, perhaps. And her drawing compass might make for an interesting toothpick.

Time to find out if any of this is even necessary, she thinks. Maybe they don’t mean any harm. Could be bored, looking to get a rise out of whatever hapless human comes along. They’ll be disappointed if they think they can ransom me. Thesmi’s too much of a miser to part with gold over an easily replaceable apprentice. She takes a deep breath. The dragon hasn’t moved. One way to find out what they want.

“Are you going to eat me?” She asks. She tries to make it sound lighthearted. Like the two of them are in on a little joke together. But her voice catches. The fear and the adrenaline bleed through. Now or never.

The dragon’s grin gets wider, baring more teeth, stretching the teal-blue scales beneath their eyes. “I intend to, yes.”

There is a long second of stillness. Quiet.

And then Arenin says, “Huh.”

The dragon cocks their head. “Surely this answer cannot surprise you.”

“It doesn’t,” Arenin says, carefully. “But I kind of expected you to pounce on me after I asked. Narratively, that would have been the time to do it. Now we’ve lost all the tension.” She makes a round, all-encompassing gesture to illustrate exactly how much of the tension was lost.

The dragon scratches at the ground absentmindedly as they ask, “Pounce on you? Is that how you want this to happen?”

“Are you asking me how I want this to happen?”

“That was more or less exactly my question, yes.”

Arenin can’t believe what she’s hearing. She stands up, fists clenched. “Is this a game to you? Do you lack the decency not to play with your food? Come on, just get it over with already!”

Sinuous and liquid, the dragon eases closer to her quicker than she can realize it’s happening, unfolding and taking a mere two steps to divide the gap between them in half. Arenin staggers back, heart pounding furiously as the fear strikes her anew. She grits her teeth and recovers her posture. I’m not going to give them the satisfaction, she thinks.

The dragon stops when they see her reaction. She could be imagining it, but their face looks . . . sorry? Surprised and regretful that they scared her. Perhaps a little hurt. “Listen,” they say. “I think we have a slight misunderstanding.” They place a claw over their heart. “Vayreltr. What may I call you?”

It takes her a moment. “Arenin,” she says.

“Arenin. Arenin. Yes, well, it is a pleasure to meet you. As you know, I have brought you up to this spectacular perch because I intend to eat you. I have said as much. However, what I intend may differ greatly from what transpires today. I will consume you only if you wish it.”

Arenin narrows her eyes. “What’s the catch? I obviously don’t ‘wish it’.” She throws up a pair of air quotes. “Are you going to leave me to rot up here is I refuse?”

“There is no ‘catch’,” Vayreltr says, awkwardly mimicking the gesture. It’s so absurd, on top of everything else that’s happened, to see a dragon do air quotes that Arenin almost loses it right then and there. But she restrains herself. This is serious business. Vayreltr continues to speak. “If you say no, I will escort you safely to the ground myself. I will even fly you to your destination. You will make better time than if I had not interrupted your trip. I will do so right now, if you desire, and we will part ways. If you stay, I will speak to you, and through no coercion attempt to convince you to step between my jaws. If you find yourself in my stomach it will be on your own terms. What I am counting on, of course, is that you are curious. The idea that you could be persuaded to become my prey seems improbable, does it not?”

“You’ve got that right. More like impossible.”

The dragon nods, undeterred. “If you leave, you will never find out how I plan to do it. If you stay, I will answer any question you ask of me honestly. I will tell you no lies. I will never harm you. If my goal is, as you say, impossible, then you risk nothing, and I will have embarrassed myself. What say you?”

Arenin considers it. It’s stupid. If they say you can go, you should go. She chews her lip. I’m not exactly in any rush to get back to town, though. Besides, how many people get to talk to a dragon? She looks Vayreltr up and down. They’re exceedingly vibrant, with hide the green-blue color quite unlike anything but the turquoise stones she’d seen some of the nobles wear from time to time, a pale lavender underbelly, and broad, birdlike wings sporting a brilliant spray of blue, purple, pink, and green feathers. Though undoubtedly enormous, Vayreltr is a sleek and striking presence, unlike the rough, bestial dragons she’s heard about in tavern stories.

Finally, that most dangerous of thoughts slips into her mind. She says it out loud.

“What’s the harm? Sure, I’ll stick around for a while. You’ll answer whatever I ask you honestly?”

Vayreltr’s forked tongue flicks out in excitement. “Certainly.”

Maybe this wasn’t such a great idea. “So do I just . . . start asking you things now?”

“If you like.”

“Okay. First off, is Vayreltr a male or a female dragon’s name? You’ll forgive me if I can’t tell.”

“It is my name.” The dragon folds their claws in front of them as they lie down before her. “And I do not fall into either category. So I suppose you could say it is neither.”

Arenin sits down, too. May as well get comfortable. “Sorry,” she says, “I hope that wasn’t a rude question.”

“I take no offense.”

Arenin nods. “So, uh, what makes you think I’ll agree to being dinner for you?”

“Direct, are we not?” Vayreltr chuckles. It sounds like a small earthquake. “Well, the odds of it actually happening are admittedly not as great as I would like. I will tell you this: should you choose to have this experience, you will not perish. You will not be harmed in the slightest. I will even endeavor to make it enjoyable for you. It only seems fair that I do so.”

“And how would you accomplish . . . any of that?” She tries to sound detached, like she isn’t seriously considering the idea already. She certainly shouldn’t be, she thinks. But it’s been on her mind since the moment she felt herself rising from the ground in a powerful, alien grip. What was once desperate fear has now given way to reluctant curiosity.

Vayreltr thinks. “Before I answer that for you,” they begin, “would you tell me whence you travel?”

Arenin hesitates. “Cromaedil. In the valley to the north. Why do you want to know?”

“That is, what, another two days’ travel on foot? You are not carrying much. You plan on stopping at a town along the way.”

“Um, yeah. Why the sudden concern with my travel plans?”

Vayreltr is looking out over the sea. The world around them is strange, a featureless shelf, and then the sky, and everything else far below. The unfamiliar perspective is obvious with the land because of the shrunken trees, but the sea does not suffer for the distance. Vayreltr says, “The sun will go down soon. The night will be cold. Should you opt for me to swallow you, you will find my belly warmer than a bed in any inn. I have ways of keeping you, enchantments that will ensure you experience no harm, no pain. The place you rest will be made safe for you, and comfortable. Come morning I will release you, and carry you to your destination, and you will have no need to face the dangers along the way.”

Vayreltr turns to her, craning their neck down to be on her level. “I know what I ask of you is strange, but I implore you to consider it anyway.”

Arenin is perplexed by her own behavior. Those jaws, the ones she feared only minutes ago might engulf her— Still might, she thinks, before shoving that particular thought into a dark corner of her mind— they’re so close to her right now, but she doesn’t flinch away. Her stomach clenches up. It was easier to be frightened, or even mystified. Now she doesn’t know what to think. “Um . . . if you eat me, you’ll fly me to Cromaedil, and I’ll skip the trip. No paying for a room. No waving a torch at wolves.”

Vayreltr’s featureless gaze is as silent as their voice as they wait for her to continue. Hunger tempered with monolithic patience. Watching. Anticipating. Arenin’s mouth is a bit dry. Vayreltr’s is not. She can see them salivating. “But if you don’t eat me,” she says, “then you’ll still take me there? All the same?”

The dragon nods. “That is correct. Or any other place you would like to go. Within reason, of course.”

“So to clarify, there’s no reason for me to choose the path that leads, well. . .” She indicates with her upturned palms the towering form of the dragon before her. She gulps. “Inside.”

“I am not incentivizing any particular choice, if that is what you mean. It would be unjust. If you choose to have me surround you, I would hope it is because you choose it on its own merits; that is, in much the same way as I desire the satisfaction and closeness you could give me by allowing me to consume you, you may desire the warmth and comfort I could give you by allowing you to shelter yourself within me.”

“You’re a really eloquent speaker.”

“Only on subjects in which I am well versed.”

“You realize saying you’re an expert at eating people doesn’t exactly help make your case, right?”

Vayreltr raises an eyebrow. “Oh? Does it not?”

Gods, what’s this feeling, now? “Okay, okay, okay,” Arenin says, a little quicker than she means to, “this is . . . a lot to think about. What if I need some time to consider it?”

“Then time you shall have. Eventually I will need to move on, though, and find another with which to fill my stomach. You may stay as long as you like, though once you leave you may have trouble reaching me again.”

Arenin watches the reddening of the sky. Feels the deepening chill in the soft winds around them. She makes up her mind.

She turns back to her strange companion. “This is not at all how I expected today to go, but . . . I’m glad we met. This conversation was extraordinarily weird, and I didn’t realize how much I needed that. So, it was nice to have met you, Vayreltr. But I’ve made my choice not to stick around. In any capacity. So I’m going to ask that you take me to Cromaedil. It was nice to have met you. I already said that.” She nods abruptly and throws her satchel over her shoulder. “You, uh, think it’ll go like this the next time I meet a dragon?”

Vayreltr stands. “To my knowledge, you are unlikely to have occasion to safely explore this possibility with another dragon. This is the result of both the scarcity and general disposition of my kind. Though if we should again cross paths, I will not deny you. The dearth of willing meals, I suspect, is also due to both scarcity and disposition. Few humans have been agreeable enough to hear my offer, and when it comes to sentient prey, I cannot bear to disagree with what I eat.”

They shake their head. “My apologies. I am rambling in an attempt to mask my disappointment. I enjoyed getting to know you as well, Arenin. I wish you nothing but kindness in your travels. Do try to avoid being captured by dragons in the future. Something tells me most of them would not know how to show you the appreciation you deserve.”

They offer their claw to her, and she steps into their grasp. As their talons curl carefully around her, and they spread their wings in preparation for departure, she says, “You’re going to keep your word. You’re really going to let me go.”

“Of course.” They back up for a running leap.

Arenin takes a deep breath. Can’t lose her nerve now, or it’ll be too late. “Hey, Vayreltr?” she calls out, “You may be fast, but it’s still a long trip. I don’t want to freeze to death, so maybe I should ride in your mouth?”

The dragon is still.

For the first time, there’s a catch in Vayreltr’s voice as they say, “Are you certain?”

“And after you put me in there,” Arenin continues nervously, “maybe we don’t have to go anywhere tonight, after all?”

“Are you suggesting . . . what I think you are suggesting?”

Arenin can’t help but laugh at the absolute shock on Vayreltr’s face. “I’m— oh, oh gods, I’m sorry, I’m not laughing at you. I mean, I am, but it’s just because I was so anxious and now it’s. . . You’re. . .” She stops. She wipes the tears from the corners of her eyes. “You’re kind of adorable when you’re caught off guard, you know that? Your neck feathers fluff up and everything.” Maybe it’s the light, but she thinks she sees the dragon blush. There’s a look of absolute panic on their face. “Oh, take the compliment,” she says, smiling. “There’s no shame in it.”

She sighs. “Look, Vayreltr, seriously . . . I feel bad about it, but I wasn’t entirely honest with you. I only turned you down because I wanted to make sure I could trust you.  The truth is . . . oh, this is weird to admit, but you convinced me. I actually want to try it. With you. I hope that’s still okay.”

“You . . . you mean that?” The dragon lifts her up to eye level.

She tries to cross her arms, but is thwarted by her position in the dragon’s grip. She ends up resting them atop one of Vayreltr’s claws as she might on a table. “I’m as surprised as you are. But yeah, I mean it. So, do we just—”

Vayreltr’s cavernous maw yawns open before her.

Arenin’s bag falls back to the ground.

“Yeah, alright. Cool.”

 Arenin sighs and puts her head down with a splat, gathering up the tongue beneath her like a pillow. After the day she’s had, it feels cozier in here than she could have dreamed. “I know you can’t exactly respond with me in here,” she says. “That’s okay. I’m fine with doing all the talking right now.” She feels their warm breath swirling in the humid cavern above her. It’s an odd notion that she could get used to this, but the truth is . . . she could. She had thought she’d need to tune out the reality of where she is to feel at ease with the situation, but it turns out not to be necessary. I’m in a mouth, she thinks. I’m in a dragon’s mouth, and it’s comfy. This is fine.