Page 65 of The Orc Warrioress and the Elf Lord

Her mother touched it. “Do you like it?”

“I’m very confused right now,” said Gathren. “Don’t you want to be rescued?”

“Well,” said her mother, “I don’t like being chained up, that is for certain.”

“So, then, you do want to be rescued.”

“Well,” said her mother, “you see, it’s all very complicated.”

“How could it be complicated?” said Gathren.

“I met Tafnir one day out in the fields.”

“Who is Tafnir?”

“The dragon,” said her mother.

“Oh, you ‘met’ him while he was burning everyone’s crops to a crisp?”

“No, that part came later,” said her mother. “Your uncle and I… I don’t know if you quite ever understood how much we were at odds, but we always were. After you had gone, and we did not have your help anymore, it got worse. He was always complaining about how he had to hire workers to help with the harvests, and he blamed me, and he used to get into rages and decide he would take it out of whatever it was that I was consuming, which was mostly food. So, I would get very hungry, you see—I didn’t want him dead, though.”

“Mam, what are you saying?” Gathren was putting this together. “Did you conspire with the dragon to—”

“Oh, conspire? No. I complained,” said her mother, sighing. “Tafnir was such a good listener. I didn’t think he was going to… but then he carried me off and chained me up here and I can’t leave, and I told him about you, but… Gathren, I had not heard from you in six months. I did not know if you were…” Her mother reached out and put a hand to her cheek. “You’re alive, though, quite alive.”

“I’m sorry that it was so hard for us to get letters to each other,” said Gathren. “But you can’t really have decided that you were going to live out your life here as a dragon’s captive.”

“Well…” Her mother lifted both of her shoulders. “I don’t seem to have a choice, do I?”

“You do have a choice,” said Gathren. “Because I’m here to rescue you.”

Her mother nodded. “Right.” She chewed on her bottom lip, furrowing her brow. “Well, but your plan seems to be to sneak me out of here, doesn’t it? You and I both know that you are no match for Tafnir, and besides, I would have to intervene if it came down to some sort of fight, because if he hurt you, I would—well, he is not allowed to hurt you.”

“Not allowed?” said Gathren. “You’re talking as if this dragon listens to you, and he clearly doesn’t, or he wouldn’t keep you chained up in his lair!”

“It’s complicated!” cried her mother.

“It does not sound complicated to me!”

IAHIR AND THE dragon were arguing when they heard the raised female voices emanating from the cave.

They were arguing about riddles. The dragon said that it certainly wasn’t going to give its hoard away to someone simply because the person could answer riddles, and Iahir asked what the dragon was doing with the hoard anyway, and the dragon said that one did not do things with hoards, one simply hoarded hoards, and in a tone that indicated that the dragon thought that Iahir was perhaps very simple minded.

Anyway, the dragon told Iahir he didn’t know any riddles.

Iahir said, “Come now, of course you do.”

The dragon huffed. It tilted its head to one side. “It counts and counts its whole life through, but never counts past twelve.”

“A clock,” said Iahir.

The dragon huffed again. “I have four legs but I am not a dog. I have a back but I am not a camel. Perchance I have arms, but I never have hands.”

“A chair,” said Iahir.

“Thou art a maddening creature,” said the dragon.

“Because I can answer your riddles?” said Iahir.