“When next the farmer came,” the bard continued. “He brought with him his love—a simple peasant girl, true—but she had a heart large in love and the understanding of a queen.”
I was sure this must be a nod to Ari’s mom’s humble origins. This bard definitely knew which side his bread was buttered on but he was making a good point—you don’t have to be rich or come from a fancy family to be a worthwhile person. I was betting that was something a lot of the noblewomen at the feasting tables had forgotten—if they ever even knew it in the first place.
“When the lovely peasant girl met the dragon, there was instant love between them,” the bard went on. “For she seemed to him a treasure greater than any in his hoard. She became the first L’lorna.”
Hmm—I wonder how her fiancé felt about that? I thought skeptically. Would any guy I knew be fine sharing his girlfriend with a dragon? Honestly, I couldn’t think of one who would—but what did I know? Apparently this farmer had been okay with the strange arrangement or the Drake people wouldn’t be as they were right now.
Anyway, I could certainly understand the “instant love” part. It had been like that between me and Ari’s Drake when I finally got over my fear and got to know him. Reaching back behind me, I found his soft muzzle and caressed him tenderly. He snorted very gently, his warm breath blowing up the long sleeve of the robe I was wearing, and sent me a feeling of love and protectiveness that filled my heart to overflowing.
“I love you, too,” I sent back and then the bard was chanting again.
“At first the farmer worried that the dragon would take his female,” he went on. “But then the dragon proposed a deal. He and the man would merge—two forms sharing one body. In this way, they could both love the same woman—though in different ways, since the female had no dragon of her own to merge with. Together they became the first Drake. The man gained the powers of flight and fire and the race of dragons would not die out and be lost from the Sky Lands forever.”
There were snorts of approval from all the assembled Drakes and murmurs from the ladies.
“And so we are Drakes!” the bard declared. “The proud ones who walk on both two legs and four—who take to the air—who breath fire hotter than the sun…” The bard seemed to be winding down his tale for the music was getting softer. “But still we have one sorrow—that no female Drakes exist,” he went on in a mournful tone. “For though we love our L’lornas deeply, none of them have wings of their own—none can change form to fly beside us and feel the wind in their talons or the sun on their scales.”
I supposed that was kind of hard on the dragon part of the Drakes. The men could kiss and cuddle and…do other things with their shared L’lorna, like every couple in love wanted to do. But the size and shape difference made such physical displays of affection impractical between the dragon and the L’lorna.
Though I loved Ari’s Drake completely, beside him it was like I was the size of a small kitten compared to a full-grown adult. I could ride in the hollow of his neck but I could never fit my arms around that same neck to give him a really substantial hug. And as for doing…other things, well, we were completely mismatched so none of that would work, even if I was ready for it, which I most definitely was not with either him or Ari.
I had thought the bard’s tale was done, but it seemed he had one last thing to add to his origin story of the Drake people.
“And yet some say that one will come,” he continued mysteriously, still strumming and drumming. “A female with the heart of a true Drake—one who can take both human and dragon form. One who will be the mother of a new people. She will bear daughters upon daughters and all of them will be as she is—dual-natured with a Drake inside. And then, how we all shall rejoice for at last—”
But we didn’t get to hear what would happen “at last” because just at that moment the old Blind Crone came tapping her way into the large square between the four vast tables and pushed him aside, just as though she could see him standing there.
The bard—who was clearly not expecting any interruptions to his tale—stumbled and stopped his strumming and drumming abruptly. He had an indignant expression on his face and looked like he was about to say something but the old Blind Crone started speaking first, her cracked and broken voice carrying surprisingly well in the stunned silence.