Seth struggled toward where the bow line should have been. It was gone. All that was left was a tattered shred of rope that was useless for their purpose. But the cleat was still intact. Seth quickly unlooped the coil of rope he’d put over his shoulder and set to work. When it was firmly attached to the cleat, he threw the end to Livia. She caught it and secured it as he made his way to the stern.
That line was dragging in the water, so he quickly retrieved it, getting even wetter in the process as the rope added seawater to the mix of wetness all over his clothing. But he didn’t care. He had to get this boat secured so they could all get out of the weather. He found the end. It was frayed a bit, but farther up the line, it was sound. He tossed the end to Livia, and she caught it like a professional.
Of course, she’d grown up around boats and ships her entire life. Of course she knew what to do. Seth spared a thought for how much more amazing she was than he’d even dreamed, but he didn’t have a lot of time.
“Both lines are tied to the dock, though they should be snugged up,”
Seth sent to Hrardorr.
“Can you hold it a moment longer, and perhaps move it a fraction closer to the dock?”
“Yes, to both questions,”
Hrardorr replied.
“But do not tarry. It’s like trying to hold a sack full of cats.”
“I’m jumping onto the dock now,”
Seth updated the dragon.
“And when have you ever held a sack full of cats?”
“I haven’t,”
Hrardorr answered with great dignity in the midst of the storm.
“But my first knight, Loren, had a pet cat named Sue, and she had kittens. Loren couldn’t bear to part with the little ones at first, and they grew into adolescents rather quickly. He tried to put them all in a sack to take them out of the wallow on one memorable occasion. Suffice to say, it didn’t go well for poor Loren. The scratches took weeks to heal.”
Seth could hear the nostalgia and genuine affection in Hrardorr’s voice as he spoke of his first knight. It was good to hear. Gone was the dejection he usually displayed…if only for a moment.
Seth and Livia worked together to tie the boat up as securely as possible. They made a good team, not needing to speak to coordinate their movements.
“You can let go now. We’ve got it tied up,”
Seth told Hrardorr.
A moment later, Seth saw the dragon’s tail slide off the bow, the claws releasing the sides. Hrardorr must have swum off, away from the clashing near the dock.
Livia took Seth’s hand, surprising him, but leading him toward the main part of the dock and then back to the boat house. This time, she led him through a door at the rear that took them inside the boat house proper.
The moment he closed the door behind them, he felt a huge amount of relief. There was no boat in the slip that ran down the center of the structure, and the inside was neat as a pin. There was plenty of room for the humans to walk on either side of the water space, and the part that was built half on land, would be large enough for Hrardorr to get out of the rain and roiling seas.
As if that thought conjured the dragon, Hrardorr’s head appeared out of the churning water in the center of the slip, followed by the rest of him.
“If you come straight forward, there is a wooden deck you will fit on. Livia and I will be to your left, by the door,”
Seth briefed Hrardorr on the layout.
“I could see the pilings beneath the water, but wasn’t sure what lay above,”
Hrardorr admitted. For the first time in Seth’s experience, Hrardorr was being matter-of-fact about his disability. He took it as a good sign.
“The roof is about twenty feet above deck level,” Seth said aloud, in order to give the dragon some auditory input. Seth had often noticed Hrardorr’s ears twitching toward him when he spoke and figured it helped the dragon know where he was.
“That’s to accommodate my sailboat,” Livia put in. “But I didn’t want her in here during the storm. There’s not that much clearance in case it gets too rough, and I didn’t want the mast poking through the side of the roof. But it’ll be perfect for you, Hrardorr. Not exactly warm and cozy, but at least you won’t be in the water.”
“The cold and wet does not bother me like other fighting dragons,”
Hrardorr said with a small bit of pride showing through.
“But this shelter will be welcome for tonight.”
“I suppose you’ll have to stay here. Flying back to the Lair in this storm would be the next thing to impossible for any dragon,” Seth put in, hoping Hrardorr understood that he wasn’t discounting Hrardorr because of his blindness.
Hrardorr heaved himself up onto the deck, moving slowly and keeping his wings tucked, as well as his tail. He reached around himself gently, one leg at a time, learning his boundaries. Even his tail helped him discover where the wall behind him was as he arranged himself to face Livia and Seth, who stood against the wall near the door.
“Are you well, Sir Hrardorr?” Livia asked quietly as Hrardorr settled down to a resting position. “Is there anything we can do to make you more comfortable?”
Hrardorr blew out a small tendril of smoke.
“All is well, mistress. I have received no injury. In fact, it was rather invigorating to fly through the storm and dive down into the deeps. Everything is churning down below as well as up here.”
“Still, you should not have had to do that.” Seth stepped forward slowly, approaching Hrardorr as he always did—talking aloud so the dragon would know where he was. “It is my fault for speaking out of turn, and I apologize. I will not pressure you again. It is not my place.”
A gusty dragon sigh almost swept Seth off his feet.
“But it is. It is the place of a friend to express concern. I am at fault for refusing to listen and flying off in a snit. Even I can see how foolhardy I was.”
Seth moved closer, putting one hand out to touch Hrardorr’s sinuous neck. Before this moment, he had only ever touched Hrardorr for purposes of treatment. This was the touch of a friend.
“I consider you my best friend, Hrardorr. Ever since you came to the Lair, my life has been better than it has been for a long time. You changed it,” Seth told the dragon honestly, articulating thoughts that had been rolling around in his mind for a while, but never spoken.
“You’ve done the same for me, Seth,”
Hrardorr said softly.
Seth felt closer to the dragon in that moment than he’d felt to anyone since his childhood. He stepped closer and rested both hands on Hrardorr’s neck. The dragon moved, and then, Seth was hugging him, like he used to hug his fathers’ dragon partners when he’d been a child.
When Hrardorr didn’t move away, Seth realized the hug was welcomed. That made it all the more special.
“I’m sorry I flew off in anger. It was childish of me.”
“Don’t say that. You had every reason to be annoyed with me. I’m sorry.” Seth could feel tears at the back of his eyes, but they didn’t fall. He was deeply moved by Hrardorr’s warmth toward him after the tumult of the past few hours.
They stood there for a long moment.
“If I were whole, I would speak irrevocable words to you, Seth,”
Hrardorr shocked Seth by saying.
“You have been a true friend and have a great heart. Any dragon would be proud to partner you in defense of our land.”
Seth shook his head as he finally let go of Hrardorr’s neck. “Not I, my friend. I am a healer, not a fighter. I chose my path a long time ago.”
Hrardorr sighed.
“Sometimes, it is not the path we choose, but the one chosen for us, that is the hardest to bear.”
Livia turned away, allowing Seth and the dragon a moment of privacy. It was clear the emotions ran strong between them, and she felt a bit like a voyeur, getting a glimpse of what living among dragons could mean. It was fascinating, but also heartbreaking that Hrardorr had such pain down deep inside him.
She brushed away tears as she looked around the boat shed, trying to make herself useful. Perhaps there were some supplies here that could make Hrardorr’s stay—for that matter, her own stay—here, more comfortable. She rummaged around quietly, coming up with a few items that could be of use.
She set up two folding camp chairs near the wall, groping around in the dark for a few lanterns. There were flints somewhere, but she figured she could always ask Hrardorr to light a stick of kindling once he and Seth were done talking. And hugging.
She spared a glance for them and wept anew at the picture they presented. Man and dragon, clearly friends. Perhaps more like family. Like brothers who just wore different guises.
Livia stumbled around a bit more. It was very dark inside the shed, but there were reflections bouncing off the turbulent waves, from Hrardorr’s eyes and scales, that sent little sparkles of light dancing all around. It was enough to see by…almost. Yet another reason, she was learning, why it was handy to have a dragon around.
She looked on another shelf, feeling with her hands, and came across some old sail cloth that might be big enough to cover Hrardorr, should he feel cold. It wasn’t much, but at least it was some bit of comfort she could offer him. Or maybe he could put it under him to use as a barrier between his body and the wooden deck. She wasn’t sure if he’d like that, but she’d at least make the offer. Seth would know how best to help the dragon, and Hrardorr himself could decide what he wanted.
When Livia saw them break apart out of the corner of her eye, she turned with the sail cloth under one arm. She also had a dry stick they could use to light the lanterns in her hand. She approached cautiously, not sure if they were done, but Seth saw her and waved her over.
“I was wondering if you could maybe direct a tiny spark of flame at this stick?” She held the piece of wood out to Seth, who placed it in Hrardorr’s foreclaw. “There are some lanterns we could light if you don’t mind, Sir Hrardorr.”
“Mind? Why should I mind? Just guide me a bit, Seth. I don’t want to set fire to this little building.”
Seth smiled and reached up to touch Hrardorr’s head, which the dragon had lowered. It was a lovely sight—the new cooperation between dragon and man. Seth guided Hrardorr into position gently, with utmost care. It was obvious he loved the dragon and would protect him against all comers, no matter what.
“Just a little puff and direct it downward. Your head is aimed over the boat slip, so the water will douse any extra flame, if you overshoot,” Seth coached in a quiet tone.
A flash of light, and the stick in Hrardorr’s hand was alight.
“Excellent,” Seth praised as Hrardorr held out the lit stick. Seth took it and handed it off to Livia. She took it, delivering the folded wad of sail cloth into Seth’s hands in return.
“Great. I’ll light the lanterns.” She turned to do just that, still speaking. “I thought maybe you could use that sail cloth as a blanket, or a mat. Whatever works best.”
She could hear Seth rustling the heavy cloth as she bent to light the lanterns. Within moments, the boat house was almost cheery with light.
“There. That’s better.” She stood back, hanging one lantern on the hook on the wall closest to her. She took the other over to Seth. She felt a real sense of accomplishment for such a small thing, but in such circumstances, she guessed you took what you could get.
Seth was spreading the sail cloth around Hrardorr like a nest. He asked the dragon to lift a bit of his body at a time while Seth moved the cloth beneath him.
“This’ll insulate you from the cold a bit. It’s not like your warm, sandy wallow, but it should do for the night,” Seth said, standing back to check his work.
“I will do quite well. I told you, I don’t feel the cold like most dragons,”
Hrardorr insisted.
“But the cloth is welcome. Thank you, Livia.”
Livia noticed a bit of steam rising from the dragon’s body as he dried. In fact, the atmosphere in the boat house was getting nice and warm. She wasn’t quite drying out from her scamper down the back stairs, but at least her teeth weren’t chattering anymore. Yet another reason it was nice to have a dragon around. She was learning more about them all the time, it seemed.
“Mistress Livia has set up two camp chairs for us over by the wall. We can stay with you until the rain dies down a bit, but then, I should escort her back up to her home for the night. I’ll return and pass the night here with you, Hrardorr, if that’s all right,” Seth said, apparently wanting to plan everything out.
“It’s not all right,”
Hrardorr surprised her by objecting.
“While I agree you should wait here a bit until the storm lessens, but once you go back up to the house, stay there. Or go back to the Lair, if you wish. I will be fine here for the night and will return to the Lair once the weather clears.”
“Or we could stay down here tonight,” Livia offered. She didn’t mind roughing it if it meant they could stay with Hrardorr.
“Only if it is too dangerous to go back up to your home,”
Hrardorr said quickly.
“I would rather you were warm and comfortable after I have dragged you from your cozy parlor, no doubt, with my antics. I humbly apologize for my actions tonight, Livia. I did not mean to cause you such trouble.”
“None of that, Hrardorr. You are my friend. I would do the same for any friend, but most especially for you, because you have been kinder to me in the past few weeks than any being I have ever known.” She looked around the boat house, able to see things a lot better now that they had light. “I am quite warm now that you are heating the place,” she said with a chuckle. “You are a very handy being to have around, Hrardorr.”
“But you cannot sleep on the floor. You are a lady, deserving of soft things. Feather beds and such. Am I not correct, Seth?”
“That you are, but only if it’s safe to go back up those stairs. There has to be a lull in the storm before I’ll risk her on that slippery wood a second time. If I’d known how treacherous it was, I wouldn’t have done it the first time.”
“Was it truly that bad?”
Hrardorr wanted to know, his brow ridges drawing together in a frown.
“We both slipped toward the bottom,” Seth admitted. Livia felt her cheeks flush with the remembered moment when he’d caught her and their gazes had clashed…and held.