‘That Look in Your Eyes’

A Short Story by

Ridley Jack

‘I feel… listless,’ the tall, auburn haired girl thought.

’Why?’ the blood red dragon beneath her asked.

‘Well, if I knew, I would do something about it,’ she thought back to her companion.

“Anthrax, Tequila!” a lanky youth called from several hundred feet below them.

“Yes, Winter, we know! We’ve already landed, anyways!” the girl called back as she nudged the dragon beneath her with her knees.

‘C’mon, Tequila. We’d best go down before Winter has a fit.’

’He’s always having a fit,’ Tequila retorted.

‘Yes, well, let’s make sure that this time, it’s not about us.’

Anthrax laughed. Winter’s temperament was an on-going joke between them, because Winter was a charming man with no temper to speak of.

“Anthrax!” Winter said lightly from below them, warning in his mild voice.

“Yeah?” she replied as Tequila landed gracefully, folding her elegant wings along her sides. “You rang?” she chirped as she gathered herself to leap from the dragon’s back.

Anthrax was reminded again how good-looking Winter was. His black hair was mussed, as if he had just run his fingers through it, and his green eyes were sparkling with an unknown emotion that was gone before she had a chance to identify it. His narrow nose ended over a straight, slightly smiling mouth and started below the dark slashes he called eyebrows. His tall frame filled his tight riding suit quite nicely. He held his riding helmet under one arm, and reached the other one up to help her down.

“Thanks,” she said, feeling suddenly shy, which was ridiculous. She was never shy, ever.

“How’s Tequila?” he asked, letting go of her hand.

“She’s good. Almost ready to mate,” she said, then remembered who she was talking to, and blushed faintly. There was something about this man that made her act differently, like a schoolgirl talking to her crush. “Where’s Vodka?” she asked, referring to his dragon, and effectively changing the subject.

“Sunbathing,” he said wryly, gesturing towards the giant midnight blue dragon on a rock ledge nearby.

It was a well-known fact to the wyrmens that dragons loved to bask in the warm desert sun. As if to prove this statement, Tequila unfolded her broad wings and leapt into the air to join her fellow dragon.

Wyrmens were dragon riders, their name derived from the Old English name for dragons, ‘wyrm.’ The name was originally wyrm-ons, meaning that they were riding on the dragons. Through the ages many different tongues uttered the name, warping it slightly, thus making it how it was now.

The two wyrmens laughed at this as they walked inside the cavernous opening at the other end of the landing pit.

“You missed lunch,” Winter told her.

“I know, and I'm starving!” she answered.

“I think there’s some leftovers in the kitchen,” he said as he led the way.

“And you would know, wouldn’t you, Winter?” she teased him.

“I'm a growing man, I need to eat!”

“But that doesn’t mean you can clean the Den outta food!”

The friendly banter crossed between the two of them as they made their way towards the kitchens.

“Anthrax, you’re back!” a tall, thin man called from the kitchen’s cheery interior.

“Yes, Rouge, and I'm famished,” she told the head cook.

“Well, come, come! Gotti, bring the lady some food!” he called out.

“Thanks,” Anthrax said quietly to him when food was brought.

Rouge bustled off to do who-knows-what and Winter sat down at the table across from her.

“Even though lunch was only a couple of hours ago, and I'm still full, that’s looking really good,” he said wistfully.

“Want some? He gave me too much anyways, and I’ll never finish it,” she offered, adding the last bit to convince him. It was enough.

“Sure,” he answered, and went to get another bowl. Anthrax silently poured about half of her brimming bowl into his.

“You should eat more,” he told her.

“You should eat less,” she retorted, used to those kinds of comments.

She was naturally tall and thin, so people automatically assumed that she was anorexic or similar.

“Anth’?” Winter suddenly asked, using her nickname. Everybody used it, but somehow when he said it, it was different, and a shiver tingled down her spine.

“Yes?” she glanced up, catching a strange look in his eyes.

“Nothing. Never mind,” he looked down at his empty bowl. He quickly stood up and took his bowl over to one of the many sinks lining one wall of the massive kitchen before he walked out of the kitchen without another word to her.

“Huh… wonder what that was all about,” she muttered to herself.

“The boy loves you,” Rouge said, appearing at her side suddenly.

“What?” she asked, startled. Winter? In love with her?

’Why not?’ Tequila demanded. ’What’s so wrong with you that he couldn’t love you?’

‘It’s not as simple as that,’ she thought back.

’Why? Don’t you like him?’

‘You know I do, but… it’s a human thing, I guess,’ she thought, unable to describe to her dragon that she thought that Winter was the most gorgeous man alive, that she wanted nothing more than to be with him, and that she might even love him, but was afraid of saying anything because she was afraid of what he’d say to her? Afraid that he might laugh at quiet Anthrax, the girl who stood apart from his crowd, even if they were all supposedly supposed to be the same because they were all wyrmens?

“Go for it, girl,” Rouge said mystically before walking off in that purely ‘I'm-in-charge-here-and-I'm-gonna-terrorize-you’ way of his.

‘What was that about?’

’No idea.’

The next week was rather frantic because the date for when the new Lady and Lord would be selected had finally been told to the Den.

The Lady would be chosen by the dragons in a discussion on the dragon’s part that no human had ever been part of. The new Lady’s dragon in the Choosing Ceremony would choose the Lord. So basically, the wyrmens had no authority in who would rule over the Den.

The Choosing Ceremony was essentially a glorified dragon mating. The Lady’s dragon would fly into the air, and the males would give chase. Only the strongest or most cunning would catch her, and mate with her. The wyrmen of that lucky dragon became Lord, if the Lady wished it. If not, then the previous Lord would rule the Den with the Lady, even though it wouldn’t be his dragon that had fathered the new brood. That rarely happened, though.

So every wyrmen, male and female, was going through frantic last minute cleanings (themselves, dragons, suites, suits, and all), hunting and gathering food for the banquet that was to be held after the Ceremony, and the like.

Anthrax hadn’t seen Winter since that time in the kitchen, and was starting to get worried despite herself. She wasn’t a worrier. He hadn’t been transferred to another Den because she would have heard, but surely she should have at least glimpsed him?

“Anthrax, come on! It’s about to start!” Moon called to her from across the women’s communal bathing room. Men and women bathed separately, but not privately, which was something to get used to if you weren’t born in a Den.

Anthrax was one of the last ones in the bath, and hurried to finish. She slipped on her red (in honor of Tequila) silk tunic and trousers and walked out of the bathing room to join the throng of wyrmen.

“You all know why you are gathered here,” River, the present Lady, started. “It is the time—the time to select a new Lady, or to re-elect the present one!”

“This is done by the dragons, with no say in it for us,” the Lord took over, explaining the selection process. “As a matter of fact, they have already begun this process, blocking us from their minds.”

“During this time, we feast and celebrate. When the dragons are finished and the new Lady is named, the Choosing Ceremony will begin!” the Lady River proclaimed.

The massive crowd cheered and shuffled towards the long tables set out for the feast. Later on they would be moved so that people could dance.

Anthrax found herself sitting between Moon, who she wasn’t really friends with, but liked anyways, and Winter.

“Hey-lo,” she chirped happily.

“Hey,” he returned with slightly less than his usual charm.

“I haven’t seen you much,” she said.

“I've been really busy,” he responded.

“Oh,” she said. She was about to reach out to Tequila to ask what was wrong with him when she remembered that the dragon wouldn’t hear her.

They sat in silence for a while before he turned to talk to the person on the other side of him. She turned to Moon, only to see the back of her head. She was obviously busy with the attractive male beside her with no time for the quiet girl on her other side. Anthrax didn’t take offence, knowing about Moon’s way with men.

The food was served at last, and conversations died down as hungry riders concentrated on their food.

When everybody was finished eating, the tables were moved to the sides of the room for dancing.

“Would you like to dance?” A hand appeared on her elbow.

She turned her head to the side and was surprised to see Winter standing before her. He was known as a notorious flirt and usually never had contact with girls outside the social clique; girls like her. What was he doing asking her?

“If you don’t want to, it’s alright,” he rushed on, looking flustered. Winter? Acting nervous?

She realized that she hadn’t said anything for quite a while and hastily accepted.

He led her out on the dance floor and wrapped his arms around her waist. She placed her hands on his shoulders and looked up at him.

She stared into his green eyes, which again held that curious expression, and moved her hands around to his back.

“Winter—” she started just as the music changed tempo.

They adjusted their pace to the faster song, and loosened their arms, but kept them wrapped around each other.

“Yeah?” he asked.

“Nothing. Never mind,” she unknowingly quoted him from before.

Had she just been about to admit that she loved him? She barely knew him! All she knew was that he was a fellow wyrmen, and he liked to dance. Everybody knew that.

Suddenly there was a deafening roar in their minds, and the pain from it was assuaged as soon as it came.

’Anthrax!’

“What?” she questioned, dumbfounded.

“The new Lady is announced!” River proclaimed joyously, albeit a bit sadly. It was generally known that she wouldn’t have minded serving anther term as Lady.

“Congratulations,” Winter said quietly, and kissed her cheek before standing back to allow others to congratulate her.

“To the new Lady Anthrax and her dragon Tequila!” he toasted, holding up a glass of mulled wine that appeared in his hand.

“Lady Anthrax and Tequila!” was thundered back.

“But, wait… what? Me?” Anthrax stuttered.

“Yes, you. Now, you’re in charge, so start acting like it!” Winter whispered to her.

That snapped her out of her daze and she smiled faintly at the crowd before her. These were her fellow wyrmens, and they looked to her for guidance now.

What was she supposed to say?

’Don’t think about it, and it will come,’ Tequila told her, finally back.

“My fellow wyrmen…” she started, and the rest flowed out of her as if it had been prepared for her.

“River, it’s been a week now, and the Choosing Ceremony still hasn’t been preformed,” a worried Anthrax addressed Lady River. “Aren’t they always performed right after the Naming?”

“It took one Lady a month to perform the Choosing Ceremony, dear. You have nothing to worry about,” she assured her.

‘Tequila? Why haven’t we performed the Choosing Ceremony yet?’ Anthrax asked again.

’Not ready.’

That was always her answer. She never said who, or what was unready, and it was starting to frustrate her.

“You don’t think there’s something wrong with me, do you?” Anthrax asked Winter later.

“No! There’s nothing wrong with you!” he exclaimed. “You’re perfect,” he said quietly, almost to himself.

She gaped at him. Had he just said what she thought he did?

’Yes,’ a foreign voice said in her head. It was a dragon’s voice, unmistakably, but it wasn’t Tequila’s.

‘Who are you?’ she demanded.

’One who knows. And waits.’

Anthrax tried to ask the voice more questions, but its presence was gone from her mind.

‘Tequila?’ she queried.

‘Hmm?’ came the muffled reply.

‘Who was that?’

‘Who was who?’ Anthrax mentally rolled her eyes. Dragons!

She turned back to the conversation, a minute barely having passed.

“Really?” she asked belatedly, hardly daring to breathe.

“Yes. I've actually known that for quite some time, but I've never had the courage to say so,” he admitted, not looking at her.

“Really?” she asked again.

“Yes!” he grinned and finally looked at her.

She was finally able to describe that look she kept glimpsing in his eyes, because it was reflected back in hers.

“I love you, you know,” she blurted out.

“What?” Now it was his turn to be startled.

“I've also known for a long time,” she said quietly.

His head slowly descended, his eyes never leaving hers until the last possible second. The butterflies in her stomach morphed into raging dragons as his soft lips touched hers and her eyes closed of their own accord. She found herself nestled in his embrace with her arms wrapped around his neck and her hands running through his mussed hair.

‘Ready.’

They shared their first glorious kiss as their dragons bugled in the background and took to the air to begin the Choosing Ceremony.

AN:

Ok, this is the first fic I've ever posted on fictionpress, as I'm sure you can tell, being as there are no others currently posted. Please excuse the summary, but I couldn’t think of what else to put. I'm sorry if the plot’s a little drawn out, but it’s also the first original one-shot fic I've ever written, and completed. All my other one-shots have been fanfics. Neways, I hope you liked it, and if you did (hell, even if you didn’t!) review and tell me, please! It’d be much appreciated!

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