AT Valentine
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Chapter 103: Good Enough
🕑 Added 2025-12-24 15:58:24 +0000 UTCI didn’t have to try too hard to ‘trick’ my dragoness into taking a nap. I knew she hadn’t slept well the day before. And while she could typically keep going for as long as I could without sleep, the tension wracking her mind had left her exhausted.
At some point during my storytelling, I shifted so my back was pressed against the wall. Alys slowly settled down until she was using my lap as a pillow. All I did then was run my hand gently up and down her back, drawing out a rhythmic rumbling from her as her eyes fluttered closed.
Just to be sure, I kept talking for a little while longer, telling her about the wonderful trees available for various woodworking projects in the Autumn Court. Soon, though, the steady rise and fall of her chest assured me that she was fast asleep.
I checked her wings quickly. They were tough, but I knew they could feel achy or stiff if she (or I) slept on them wrong. Once I was sure they were in a good position, I simply settled in to wait.
My mind drifted to all sorts of topics. Most important, of course, was the upcoming family visit.
I didn’t think Alys’ grandmother would kill or seriously hurt me. Alys had told me that her mother was happily married to the knight who had attempted to slay said grandmother. Clearly, the family was accepting of odd spouses.
That still left me with a desire to impress The Molten Expanse.
I wanted her to approve of our relationship, not merely tolerate me. And that meant I needed to prepare a proper gift… which was much easier said than done. What could a dragon of her power want from a fae alchemist such as myself?
The most significant thing I could offer at the moment was the concentrated torture juice. If Alys’ reaction to it was anything to go by, it would certainly make me valuable in her grandmother’s eyes. Perhaps a bit too valuable. I couldn’t become a permanent butler to the family, now could I? Alys would likely be upset if her grandmother took me with her when she returned home…
I stifled a groan of frustration, not wanting to wake up my dragoness. I would have to devote a great deal of serious thought to the topic. Maybe I could ask Alys for advice.
If she felt calmer after her nap.
—
My dragoness stirred with one of the adorable stretch-yawns she did every morning. It started at the tip of her snout, racing in the form of a shiver throughout her body to end in a small tail-flick that never failed to make me smile.
I cupped her face, gently running my thumb over the scales of her cheek. “Good morning, beautiful.”
She flushed and stared at me for a moment. Then a forced scowl spread over her face.
“Stop that! It’s way too… early? Late?” She looked around at the gloom surrounding us. “What time even is it?”
“Late evening. You slept past our usual dinner time, but I think you needed the rest.”
I poked her cheek, making her playfully snap her jaws at me.
“You’re still tired,” I taunted as I drew my finger back. “You would have gotten me if you weren’t.”
That drew a rumbly laugh from her. “You sure you want me snapping my jaws anywhere near you from this particular position?”
It was my turn to flush and squirm. She was, after all, lying in my lap.
Bravely, I poked the tip of her snout. “We should have that dinner. I can cook while you rest a little more, if you’ll let me up?”
She made a mocking noise that was half-giggle, half-snort. “Sure, change the subject. Anyway, that sounds… great…” Her expression turned stricken as she glimpsed the pile of chair parts on the floor nearby. “Actually, while you cook, I need to keep working.”
I sighed. “Alys…”
“Don’t take that tone with me!”
“I’m not taking any tone with you. I am just worried, as your mate. This isn’t good for you.”
“That’s what you think!” she shot back. “I need to work! I need to…”
She was obviously struggling to put things into words. Leaning over, I pulled her into an awkward hug.
“I’m not going to push,” I promised. “I’ll ask just once: why do you ‘need’ to make everything perfect for your grandmother’s visit?”
Alys went still. She was quiet for a few long moments. When she started talking again, her voice was fragile.
“My family… well, my grandmother didn’t really approve of me leaving home.”
I kept silent, giving her the time to continue on her terms.
“She… My mother… Ugh, Grandma always wanted what’s ‘best’ for us. She wants us to grow more powerful. More capable of protecting ourselves and truly ‘taking charge of our lives.’ For her, that means spending all our time studying magic, mastering the gifts of our bloodline, and amassing a hoard so we can draw more power from it.”
I blinked at that. Then, while still paying attention to what Alys was saying, I filed away the confirmation of a long-held, famous theory about dragons and their hoarding ways.
“Grandma set everything up perfectly. We had servants, plenty of resources… everything we possibly wanted or needed to learn and grow. And my mother refused to use pretty much any of it. Instead, she focused on her hobbies and interests. She’s a painter, a sculptor, even a musician. That’s how I picked up my love of woodworking, actually. I did sculpting first. Then my mother tried woodworking on a whim, and I got taken by it, while she eventually moved on.”
Alys took a deep breath before continuing.
“Anyway, my grandmother loves my mother, but she was also… hrm. Disappointed. Mildly annoyed, even. She couldn’t understand why her daughter wasn’t interested in growing stronger and maybe, someday, evolving fully into a dragon.”
This time, I couldn’t hold myself back.
“That can happen?” I asked. “Truly? I mean, I’d heard stories and myths, but I never knew for sure.”
Mostly because fae and dragons tended to stay far, far away from each other.
“Yes.” Alys gave me an amused look. “It’s both extremely rare and extremely difficult. Most draconians never even get to attempt it, and of those, only a fraction succeed. But yes, that was Grandma’s hope for my mother. And when my mother proved to be uninterested, and content to live in Grandma’s lair, that became her hope for me.”
And then you left, I thought, but wisely didn’t say.
“And then I left,” Alys said, echoing me unintentionally. “I turned out just like my mother. I tried to grow the abilities my bloodline gave me. I’m quite good at it, too. My mother can’t pull off the kind of breath attacks I can. But then I discovered something I was passionate about, and I just… got distracted.”
She looked away, guilt painted all over her face.
I saw her starting to get upset and decided to try the trick that had worked last time. My fingers trailed up and down her back, rubbing between her wings in particular, and she relaxed just a tad. She also shot me a beautiful, grateful smile that made my heart flutter.
“Grandma wasn’t amused. She never said a word to stop me, just stared at me in that way of hers. I wanted to prove I wasn’t like my mother, and I wanted to do something with my craft, too. You see, Mother never really… applies herself. Is that the right way to say it? She paints, and sculpts, and sings, but she doesn’t do anything with her creations. They’re just piled up at home. She even destroys them if they’re not good enough.”
I winced. That was a bit too similar to what Alys had been doing when I interrupted her, even if her instinct was to improve her creations rather than destroy them.
Her next words made my eyes widen.
“So, I chose to, erm… run away,” she mumbled. “I signed up for the settlement drive and was accepted as a builder. I was so proud that I had managed to do something on my own, and that my work would actually matter! I even wrote a letter to my family, boasting about it, though I didn’t tell them where I was assigned.”
There was heat to her words now. Metaphorical and literal. Even her scales had warmed up slightly.
The next instant, though, she went suddenly cold.
“And then I find out my grandmother knew from the start. I mean, it makes sense. Her cave has defenses all over it. I thought I was just sneaky enough to get away without her noticing, but…”
Alys shook her head. “Did she step in once more and just provide everything we wanted? Like my mother’s paint and materials and hoard? And if I didn’t even earn a spot on this settlement drive myself, then how can my work possibly be good enough to impress her? How can I prove that I’m not just wasting my time on frivolous stuff instead of training like she wanted me to?”
The last of her words were muffled, seeing as she spoke them while pressing her face tightly into my stomach.
“Alys? Alys, please look at me,” I pleaded.
Ever so slowly, she pulled away, tears trickling down her cheeks. She looked so vulnerable and heartbroken that I felt my own eyes growing misty.
I cupped her face and leaned down to press my forehead against hers. She felt feverishly hot. Every time she exhaled, uncomfortably warm air gusted over my skin.
“You earned your spot,” I whispered. “Even if she helped things along, this is a settlement drive. They wouldn’t select someone incapable of doing the job. Likewise, I do believe you’ve proven yourself many times over by now. You are the one who built the town, Alys. You.”
She shuddered as a small sob escaped her. It was an odd sound, a rumble-hiccup that I barely recognized as such. But she also moved to squeeze her arms around me, her wings extending in an awkward effort to do the same.
“Thank you…”
“No, thank you, my silly dragoness. You are an amazing woodworker and builder. Just look at how everyone treats you when you decide to show up in town! Do you think people would shower you with gifts of thanks if you weren’t good enough? And…”
“And?” Her breath felt just a tad cooler than before.
“And you gave me a home. Beyond just a house. Beyond a place to sleep and work. My life would be much, much emptier without you. I can’t thank you enough for simply being you.”
My heart raced at such an admission. Even after months of growing intimacy, I felt terrifyingly vulnerable. This level of openness went against every instinct I had, whether natural or taught. As usual, I found myself expecting a knife to slide right into my heart.
And, as usual, the only thing that met me was Alys’ warmth.
Shifting her weight off my lap, she gripped my face and pulled me in for a kiss. I reciprocated passionately… until our stomachs protested. Rather loudly, at that.
We both froze, pulled away, and exchanged an awkward smile before we burst into laughter. A few moments later, we were both up and headed for the kitchen area, because Alys had decided she wanted to help with dinner.
I took that as a positive sign. It was certainly better than throwing herself again into ‘improving’ her work. Yet even as we cooked, and laughed, and teased each other, a part of me was preoccupied.
I now understood Alys’ reaction to the mention of her draconic lineage from a while back. At the time, I had thought it was inspired by a jealousy of full-blooded dragons. That’s why I had considered making a potion to improve her blood.
Now, though, I wasn’t so sure that was a good idea.
Comments
Presten
Hmmmmmmmm, bloodline refinement might be more useful for their children than for Alys. But who knows really, not us, and not Thorn either. I believe that at a point trying to prepare a gift as a suprise becomes less loving that just communicating. Being thoughtful is nice and all, but using words is very important.
