Tears For The Dragon Ch. 01

"And you don't think he's strong?"

Tibor pondered how best to put it. "Something like the king's strength...well, first off he's just one man."

"Careful," said Emsari with a grin. "That sounds seditious."

"It's the truth. Yes, he wields the Rod of Ages, which to the Church means he's the embodiment of the Goddess' will in the mortal realm. But he's still just one man. To exercise his will, he has to order people to do his bidding. And those people follow his orders because they believe he's the proper king. The system only works because everybody believes it works. If enough of them stop believing in it, it all falls apart."

The dragon gave him a sidelong look. "That's very astute thinking. And you believe you can stop it from working?"

"It's already happening. There are many out there who hate the king as much as I do. But they're isolated, and more importantly they feel isolated. All of the king's propaganda makes it look like everybody's one big happy kingdom with a few little traitors here and there. But the king is terrified of those people getting together and realizing they're actually the majority. Why else have such a long list of proscribed books? Why else have a network of informants in the middle of your own capital city?"

"So if you can unite those people, then what?" asked Emsari.

"Well, with enough active and open discontent at least some of the nobles will see their chance. The old Council of Lords was dissolved when Bognar united the duchys, and they've lost a lot of power. That's power that they'd like to get back. All it would take is for a few to openly question the king's legitimacy. Then the rest would follow like an avalanche."

"That sounds reasonable," replied the dragon. "But how will you get your discontents to unite?"

Tibor sagged. "That's the sketchy part. I was thinking of building up enough capital to put together a small fighting force. Again, not to openly confront the king's soldiers, but to make their lives difficult. Destroy their supplies, cut their communications, that sort of thing. The idea was to show the discontents that they're not alone."

Emsari scratched his scalp, making him shudder a little in pleasure. Her words, however, were not pleasurable. "I hate to say it, but that is pretty sketchy. Have you ever fought? Apart from using an improvised club, of course."

"No."

"Have you ever led men into combat?"

"Obviously not."

She kept stroking his head, obviously trying to take the sting out of her words. "It is a very difficult thing to be a general. It is difficult to order men to die. And you will see them die, no matter how clever you think you are. To know how to hold fast, to keep everyone's spirits up even when all is coming down around you...it is not an easy path."

"I know." He looked down. "I wasn't thinking of trying it tomorrow, you know. I was hoping I could learn."

Her hands gripped either side of his head and turned him to face her. She was smiling gently. "I have known many generals. Being an effective one is not something you can just learn. My dear Tibor, I'm afraid that you are no general."

__________________________________________________________

He was floating idly in the lake the next day, mulling over both Emsari's words as well as how best to proceed with his plan. That is, if he could proceed with it. Tibor was so preoccupied that he didn't hear the splash of her diving in. The mage only became aware of the dragon when her big head surfaced next to him.

Emsari grinned at him. "You look too serious."

Tibor laughed. "Sorry, just thinking over my plan. Or lack of it."

"You need a distraction, I think. You should focus more of your study on dragons. We are much more interesting."

"Oh?" Tibor raised one amused eyebrow at her. He was pretty sure where this was going.

"Absolutely. For instance, did you know that we can hold our breath for a very long time? Let me show you." She didn't wait for his reply before diving back below the surface. Tibor gasped as he felt her tongue suddenly wind around his shaft and draw him into her wonderfully warm mouth. It didn't take much more massaging by her tongue before he was fully hard.

Emsari began to bob on his cock as Tibor moaned. Under the water, his hands reached for and found her head. He rubbed along her crest as she continued sucking on him, and he saw the tip of her crest rise from the water as her own arousal increased. She hummed happily, and the vibration around his cock-head made him gasp again.

He felt her grab his hips and begin to move him in and out of her mouth. Eventually he just forgot about stroking her crest and hung on to her head for dear life. He twitched back and forth in the water like a rag doll, completely in the power of the horny dragon. Finally Tibor gave a howl and felt himself spew into her. Emsari's greedy sucking continued well after his last ropy spurt was gone, and Tibor felt his grip on her head weaken as she kept draining him. It was continuous pleasure beyond imagining, although it was also undercut with the fear that she would take too much of him.

Just as he was about to yell for her to stop, she released him. He floated in the water, feeling utterly spent. He dimly felt her arms gather him up and place him on the rock beside the lake. Tibor panted and looked up at her grinning face.

"Awww," she crooned, "is my precious little gem all tired out?"

He gave a slight groan in reply. The dragon licked his forehead. "Such a shame. Perhaps I can give you something to make you feel better." She leaned over him and brought one of her slim breasts down to his face. "Drink," she purred.

Almost on instinct, Tibor's mouth latched onto her teat and began to suckle. Emsari's hand pressed the back of his head into her soft flesh and she gave another croon of delight. "Yesss...drink of me..."

His mouth was suddenly filled with a sweet, thick fluid. It tasted like the best milk he'd ever had, and he hastily swallowed to keep ahead of her flow. She laughed as he continued to suck and swallow her offering, then finally pulled his head away. "That's enough, I think." Her head moved down to stare deep into his eyes.

Tibor felt a warm glow in his stomach. He did feel more energized, now that he thought about it. "Thank you for that," he croaked. "It was delicious...wait, what's going on?"

He realized his shaft was once again rock-hard. His vision was tinged with a red haze, and he heard his own blood thunder in his ears. There was a maddening, wonderful scent that filled the air around him. He had to find the source of that scent. Tibor suddenly knew that enticing smell came from Emsari. He growled and grabbed for her head, but she nimbly moved it up and out of his reach.

The dragon laughed. "Sorry, did I say it would make you feel better? I forgot to add that it would also make you horny as hell."

Tibor stumbled to his feet. "Need...you," he panted. It was hard to talk. It was hard to do anything, actually, that didn't involve driving himself into warm wet flesh.

"Mmmm, I can see that." Emsari padded a few steps back and then turned. She dropped her forearms flat on the ground and stuck her hindquarters in the air, then swept her tail dramatically out of the way. She reached between her legs with one hand and spread open her sex. The pale pink folds flashed in his eyes like exploding fireworks.

"So take me," she murmured.

The mage took two big steps and was on her. He had just enough presence of mind to reach down and align his cock up with her glistening entrance. Then his mind went completely feral as he reached forward and grabbed her wide hips. Her tail draped itself over his right shoulder. He drove himself into her with a snarl that was answered by a lustful growl from Emsari. The mage began hammering himself into her as his vision turned completely red. There was no finesse here, no gentle stimulation or taking care to see that she received pleasure. There was only the need to fill her and keep filling her, to make her his.

The dragon didn't move. She kept her hindquarters up in submission as he smashed into her with enough force to make her body shake. "Yes, my drake!" she yelled out. "Do it! Breed your bitch!"

Tibor was literally too horny for words, and he just kept snarling while he kept hammering. He felt filled with inhuman strength, and his grip on her hips never faltered. Emsari grunted in time with his thrusts, and her tail twitched on his shoulder as her excitement rose. Tibor felt a tingling in his balls as they smacked into her clit repeatedly. His sack felt full and gravid, and her pussy squeezed him hard at every in-stroke. The squelching of her juices resounded in his ears along with her grunts and his snarls. It sounded like a fight to the death rather than fucking.

Finally he drove himself in and pulled tight on her hips. His emission drenched her inner walls as she clamped tight around him. Lights flashed in his eyes and his teeth gritted so tight that they almost cracked. Emsari's hands scraped against stone as she spasmodically clawed at the floor. Tibor's spunk eventually drained, and he flopped forward onto her quaking hindquarters. They both panted for a long moment.

The red lustful haze dropped from Tibor's sight as his reason returned. "Oh, Goddess. Emsari, are you all right?"

She gave a exhausted laugh. "Oh, please. It will take a lot more than that to hurt me. You think too highly of yourself, my wonderful little bauble."

Now Tibor felt truly spent. He flopped onto his back as he pulled out of her. A stream of combined fluids poured from the dragons' snatch and puddled on the floor.

Emsari drew herself upright and stretched her arms and wings. "Oh, yes. I needed that. Gentle lovemaking is always welcome, but there's nothing like a good hard-and-fast rutting. Am I right, Tibor?"

He lay on the ground and panted. "I...yes, that was very...nice."

He blushed as she turned towards him and laughed.

"Hey," he protested. "I never claimed to be a poet."

And just like that, a whole new plan dropped into his brain. He stared at the cave ceiling in wonder as the entire scheme formed complete in his mind as if put there by divine forces. He began to laugh. "I'm not a poet." he said again between laughs.

"Eh?" Emsari looked a little worried. "Did I drain you too much?"

He sat up with sudden strength and grinned at her. "I'm not a poet. Or a general. I'm not even really a mage." He threw his arms wide. "I'm a thief!"

__________________________________________________________

Petra hoped that she hadn't fled prematurely. As an alchemist, she was vital to the King's preparations for war. But she was also a gnome, and therefore a second-class citizen in fact if not in official law. There had also been the faintest whisperings of suspicion that she'd had something to do with Tibor's successful evasion of Metternich's lackeys.

Since the young man had left she'd made sure to keep her nose clean. She was a careful woman, and knew when not to press her luck. But the whisperings didn't stop. In fact, she was sure she was running into the same 'random' people at various locations. Metternich might be keeping an eye on her, hoping that she would lead him to Tibor.

And so Tibor's disguised letter had come at just the right time. The crafty human bastard had given her an out. After she'd activated the first hidden rune, it couldn't have been more than a minute before the second one also lit up. Petra had a safe haven, if she could reach it.

It only took two minutes for her to come to her decision, and another thirty to gather the most essential items she needed. In spite of her careful winnowing, the resulting luggage still consisted of a pack the same size as her own three-foot-tall frame along with two large bags.

But gnomes can give ants a run for their money in any strength-versus-size competition. She lifted all of it with ease and managed to get out of Vasalat unseen. After stopping in a town a few miles up the road, she bought passage on a westbound coach. She was going to have to head north in a roundabout fashion, to throw off anyone who might be following.

Petra watched the rolling hills outside go past as the coach rattled its way along the road, all the while running a small stubby-fingered hand through her unkempt and brick-red hair. The die was cast. Even if she wanted to, she couldn't go back now.

The rest of the trip was surprisingly uneventful, if a bit tedious. She changed coaches at least five times as she gradually made her way north. The final one was a mail coach, since it was the only transport available. She knew her back would probably never be the same after that last coach's bone-jarring ride.

Petra was surprised at the final destination. The 'town' consisted of a few central buildings surrounded by farms. The main road was just a rutted little dirt pathway. After dropping off both the mail and her bags, the coach took off down the road. The gnome pressed her hands into the small of her back and felt her spine crackle. There were a few curious faces that appeared in one of the building's windows, but otherwise it appeared deserted. She blew out a nervous breath and looked around. Somehow she had to find Tibor, but she didn't really want to bandy about his name. And these locals might be far from friendly to a nonhuman.

"Hello, ma'am. Are you Petra?"

She turned and regarded the speaker with narrowed green eyes. "Who asks?"

It was a woman with blonde hair that had gone paler with years of sun exposure. Her face was slightly wrinkled but kind-looking. Next to her stood a man with a lined face. He had the calloused hands of one who had worked hard labor all their life, and also had a bushy salt-and-pepper beard with short hair to match. But he was smiling and his eyes were warm.

"I'm Dalma, ma'am. This grumpy-looking fella is Gaspar, my husband. We were asked to take you out to your friend when you showed up."

Petra was still suspicious. But if this was a trap, she was done for in any case. So she might as well go along and hope it was what it seemed. "Then I'm Petra," she replied, and gravely shook both their hands.

"I've got a cart over yonder," said Gaspar. "Here, let me help you with your bags..." He grabbed one of her bags and Petra saw the slight surprise in his eyes as he hefted it. "Oof. You've, er, got quite a lot."

"I like being prepared," said the gnome, and she casually slung her pack on while picking up her other bag. She could tell that her stock went up in the man's eyes based on his answering smile.

They slung her things into the cart, which was hitched to a sour-looking mule.

"C'mon, Jess," said Gaspar as Petra settled into the seat between the two humans. "Let's head out." The mule complied with an annoyed bray. After leaving the hamlet, the road became a little less rutted. Then they turned off onto another road that was more properly called a trail; it was overgrown and clearly not used frequently.

"Um, so how long until we get there?"

"It's about a couple of hours," replied Dalma.

It may have been two hours, but it felt more like four to the nervous gnome. Dalma quizzed her about how things were in the capital, and Petra answered as best she could. From the woman's questions, it was clear she almost viewed Vasalat as another world.

"It must be full of magic and amazing things from all over," she said to Petra.

The gnome shrugged. "Yes, but it's also cramped and kind of smelly. There's a lot of horses and people."

Gaspar laughed. "And not enough places for 'em to go do their business, eh?"

Petra fidgeted her fingers while staring around at the forest around them. It was oddly remote. Tibor wasn't a woodsman, he was a city boy. What was he doing in such a wild location?

Finally the trail ended in a small clearing. The only other way out of the clearing was a cave entrance which was almost half-obscured with overgrowth. Gaspar stopped the cart and without a word helped Petra unload her things.

Gaspar pointed at the cave. "Head on in there. Your friend's inside. And don't worry 'bout the other. She looks scary, but she's real polite."

"Scary? What?"

Dalma rolled her eyes. "Don't frighten the girl, Gaspar." She gave Petra a sunny smile. "You wouldn't believe me if I told you. But trust me, you're in no danger as long as you don't take her things."

Gaspar smiled and shook the reins, and the cart quickly trotted away and out of the clearing. The gnome shook her head. This was a bunch of damn-fool nonsense from Tibor. Hiding out in a cave? Really? But she took a deep breath and gathered everything before trudging on into the cave.

Her interest increased as she got deep enough into the cave to see worked hexagonal stone tiles. She smiled at the sight. Tibor always had an interest in what little was known about the First Empire. If he'd managed to set up some sort of headquarters in an unknown First Empire ruin, he must be happier than a pig in slop.

She heard a slight 'bong' noise as she entered the smoother tunnel section. She stopped, realizing she must have stepped across some sort of ward.

"Hello?" Tibor's voice filled the tunnel, and she felt a wave of relief.

"Hey, ya beanpole!" she called. "I'm here. Where the hell are you?"

She heard the relief in his voice as well. "Take it easy, half-pint. Come on down. I'll have our host put the kettle on for you."

Petra kept trudging as questions ran through her mind. Host? This must be the scary-looking 'other' that Gaspar had mentioned. Just who had Tibor gotten himself involved with?

Her unease was forgotten when she came around another corner and saw a familiar silhouette at the end of the tunnel. The gnome dropped her bags and shrugged out of her pack without thinking as she ran forward. Her tiredness and general unease were long forgotten, now that she was looking at a very familiar and smiling face. She launched herself at Tibor and hit him square in the center of his chest, then wrapped her arms and legs around him.

"Hey," gasped Tibor. "Nice to see you too, Petra"

The gnome felt herself babble, but right now she didn't care. "You too-tall goof! How have you been? You're looking good. Very good, have you put on muscle? I think you're even taller than before. You know if you get too tall you're gonna fold right over and break in half. Where did you get these clothes? I though you didn't like leather? What is this place? How did you find it? Who's this 'host' that you mentioned? Can I meet 'em?"

A large but certainly feminine voice that was polished with age sounded from behind Tibor. "You were right, dear. She is certainly enthusiastic."

Petra peeked around Tibor and her eyes widened at the sight of the much larger green-and-gold form in the room.

__________________________________________________________

The gnome climbed down off of Tibor. He hoped that Petra wouldn't run screaming up the tunnel. She stood staring at the dragon as if transfixed.

He cleared his throat. "Petra, this is Emsari. Emsari, may I present Petra Varadi."

The dragon gave a little duck of her head. "A pleasure, madam."

Petra didn't say anything, she just stood with a face gone slack with shock.

"Er, Petra?"

The gnome took a deep breath. "That. Is. AWESOME!" She actually made the dragon flinch back a bit with the volume of her shout. Then Petra almost tumbled forward. "Totally awesome! You're a dragon! A Great Wyrm, based on your size and coloration. Is that right? Very pleased to meetcha, of course. Thanks for looking after my friend here. Known Tibor ever since he was a little snot-nose punk. Now he's a big snot-nose punk, hah! How'd you meet him? How long have you been here? Wow, you've got a lot of books. Can I read them sometime?"