They sat in silence for a while. Not an awkward one, but the kind built from familiarity, from coexisting rhythms. From understanding that not everything needed words. Finally, Midas shifted forward and placed a gentle hand over hers.
“One day,” he said slowly, “I tell you about dragons. Before the humans”
She nodded, wrapping her fingers around his. “And I’ll listen when you’re ready.”
After a while, Midas found the courage to put his thoughts to words.
“Can I teach my words?” he asked, pointing to his throat. “Words of fire.”
Elowen blinked, then smiled at him with softened eyes. “Yes, of course.” Hope bloomed in Midas’ chest, and he pondered for a moment of what he should teach her first.
Then, from his throat, came a sound not meant for human mouths. It was a rolling, guttural resonance that vibrated the very air between them. It echoed faintly against the stone walls. “Means heart.”
“That’s beautiful,” she whispered. He kept his eyes on her, patiently waiting for her to try and mimic him. She opened her mouth, then paused, suddenly nervous. “Midas I don’t think I can make those sounds.”
He repeated it again, slower, then waited for her. “Try?” he asked softly.
Elowen swallowed, and then tried her best to mimic the shape of the word in her throat. She tried two, three times, but all that came out was a wheezing, hoarse cough. Her voice rasped and cracked over and over again, but eventually, they both realized that her tongue and throat simply weren’t shaped to speak the language of the dragons.
Midas’ expression was one of complete sorrow.
“Midas…” she said gently.
He lowered his head and closed his eyes. He was not angry, never angry at her, but it was a painful realization. He had so few things left from the age of the dragons, and this was just one more thing he could not share with another soul. It gutted him.
“I’m sorry,” Elowen said, closing the distance between them and holding their hands together. “I wish I could speak your words, I truly do, but you don’t need to teach me your words to share them with me. I understand you in different ways. Every time you look at me, or nuzzle me, or bring me food and trinkets, you speak. It’s like a language we have all to ourselves. Isn’t that beautiful?”
He looked at her, uncertain at first, but then her words began settling in. He simply nodded.
“Yes. Beautiful.”
Twenty-Four
The fire crackledlow in the cave as twilight settled beyond the mouth of stone. Elowen sat with her knees tucked to her chest, watching Midas move around the hoard searching for comfort among the piles of things. He was in his dragon form tonight, curled protectively near the fire with his wings folded neatly against his sides, tail resting across the floor, the very tip rising and falling with his steady breaths.
She smiled softly as he reached for a length of velvet she had tucked over a rough pile of coins to make herself a proper seat. He adjusted it without being asked, smoothing it beneath her, then gave a low, pleased huff through his nose.
She had come to know these sounds. He didn’t need words to tell her when he was content. It was in the way he pressed his snout against her side or curled his tail gently around her waist while she read aloud from the old books he’d rescued from ruined chapels.
Lately, he touched her more often. He used the very tip of his tail to stroke her cheek or her back. He nuzzled her with a kind of softness she had never known, not even in childhood. She’d learned that affection, for Midas, was through quiet, instinctive gestures.
She had been thinking lately about the way he showed affection to her, and how she could show it back. Rubbing the scales near his snout and snuggling into his tail at night simply didn’t feel like enough compared to all he had done for her.
Something in her ached to show more human affection, but she was worried he would not understand. Midas kept one golden eye locked on her, sensing her desire to say something but not yet finding the words. She was nervous, he could tell, but whatever it was, he would understand.
“Midas? Can…can you shift for me?” she asked, already feeling guilty for it, knowing it caused him pain and left him exhausted.
But Midas did not hesitate. He moved to a safe distance away from her, and she waited patiently while he took his smaller human form. He came back to rejoin her side and tilted his head. Curious. Waiting.
His skin was streaked in faint scaled patterns, and she traced them along his collarbone. His hair fell in his face, but his golden reptilian eyes remained. They were still molten and watched her carefully.
“You don’t have to stay like this long,” she assured. “I just…wanted to try something.” He said nothing. “You show me so much affection in your own way. I wanted to try something more…human. But I’m worried you might not like it.”
He furrowed his brow, not quite understanding her. It sounded like nonsense to him. “I like it because it is from you.”
He could hear her heart fluttering in her chest, confused why she had suddenly become so nervous. She had spoken ofaffection…but her behavior did not match.Had he misunderstood? Had he displeased her in some way?
Elowen reached out and brushed her fingertips along his jaw, and his breath hitched in the same way it always did when she touched him tenderly with her gentle hands. He blinked at her and gave her a small, encouraging nod. He trusted her, even if he didn’t quite understand all of her words.
