![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
Entry tags:
BSG crackfic: The Tale of Sir Starbuck and The Golden Dragon of Galactica
disclaimer: well. In this instance, they might almost be mine.
genre; Alternate Universe, alternate reality, crack.
pairing: Kara Thrace/Sam Anders
characters: Kara, Leland Adama, Sam Anders
rating: ...PG. There is sort of violence and kissing.
length: 2500+
notes: I blame![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
lucyparavel, The Blue Sword and The Hero and the Crown, though this is definitely of lighter fare. I've been reading Barbara Metzger again and it shows.
The Tale of Sir Starbuck and The Golden Dragon of Galactica
by ALC Punk!
"Every year, it's the same," Marigold the dragon told Leland Adama. She shifted a little on her nest, and then sniffled a little, sending the stench of sulphur into the room.
Leland, for his part, stayed in his corner, wishing that the townspeople hadn't trussed him up quite so thoroughly. Perhaps if he humored her... "Every year?" he prompted, wondering how an evil, pillaging dragon had come to be named Marigold.
"They don't ask, you know. They just assume--" she tapped a claw and snorted, "As though I'm a common, trouble-making dragon without their... pittances.
"It's all that bloody St. George's fault, I say," continued the dragon, not needing prompting anymore. She wasn't quite in full spate, but Leland could see the slight glow to the edges of her scales. She was obviously working herself up to something. "Had to run afoul of my cousin Astrid, and she just HAD to let him kill her."
Marigold sniffed, making it clear she would never be caught in such a pickle.
"And then of course, what could the rest of us do but hide even more? And even then, there's those that'll come after dragons with pitchforks and mobs," Marigold's talons tapped an annoyed tattoo on the stone of her nest. "Even those what do nothin' get 'em. Or we get stupid tributes and virgins once a year--usually cut-throats and trouble-makers the village wants off their hands."
"I'm not--"
"Sometimes, we actually get virgins," conceded the dragon.
Leland had the grace to blush.
It wasn't that he liked being a virgin, it was that he simply hadn't found the right woman who matched his exceedingly long list of qualifications to give that virginity to. Really, his virginity, in the end, had little to do with his current predicament, and he considered telling Marigold that.
But she was ranting again.
"It's always knights come to save the fair maiden, or wizards who want scales for spells, or rather bumbling heroes who have rewards to collect. Almost enough to make a good dragon reconsider her morals," grumped Marigold.
"What do you do with them, then?" Leland asked, suddenly rather curious. The dragon's chamber was large and littered with dust and rocks and bits of shiny debris, but he couldn't see anything that looked like piles of bones or leftovers from virgin meals. Perhaps there was hope for him yet.
"Depends," replied Marigold, looking the slightest bit shifty. She huffed out another breath full of sulphur and started studying the talons on one hand. "Sometimes, I put 'em to work, sometimes they escape..."
"Sometimes you eat them?" suggested Leland, not really wanting that to be the truth, but it was probably best to get the bad news out of the way early. It would save him quite a bit of worrying time, and he could concentrate on other things: like trying to figure out how to escape.
"Maybe." The dragon narrowed her eyes and studied him thoughtfully for a moment, "Sometimes, I make bargains with them. Do you have a skill, little virgin?"
Leland opened his mouth and Marigold suddenly pounced, like a kitten. A very large kitten who smelled of burning wood. her claws poked him lightly, and she seemed to be frowning, "Not much meat on you, perhaps that's why they sent you? Did you try to marry the wrong girl, perhaps?"
Before Leland could work up some sort of reply that would be cutting, insulting, indignant and correct, there was a clatter near the entrance to the dragon's cave. The clatter was followed by a knight striding inside, his movements confident, and his sword pointed unerringly at Marigold.
"Stand and deliver!" The knight cried out, "I am here to challenge you, dragon!" Then the knight took in the whole of the scene, and added, his tone dry, "And release him, please."
Marigold made an irritated noise and opened her mouth, displaying rather too many shiny teeth for Leland's comfort, "And what if I do not, sir knight? I ask out of mere formality, of course. I've bitter experience with relatives who have attempted to reason with you lunkheads and utterly failed."
The answer seemed to give the knight pause, but his sword didn't waver, "Release him, or I shall fight you."
"Oh, this is ridiculous!" Marigold dropped Leland, not seeming to care that he was now tied-up and bruised, and lashed her tail, turning to face the knight. "I am not going to eat him. And if you really want him, you can have him!"
Not pausing for breath, she continued, "I just want to be left in peace save for the occasional nice bit of red meat and possibly a visit from a relative or two. Is that too much to ask?"
The knight shifted, clanking a little before he sheathed his sword with a quick movement. "I'm afraid it's not that simple," he said, his voice less over-bearing. "The king will send others, you see. Apparently, the old man was ok as long as it was thieves and political enemies being sent up here, but now someone's sent his son... well, that changes things, you see."
"Is that who the virgin is?" Marigold huffed, and the knight stepped back from the wave of stench. "Bugger. How entirely provoking."
"My name is Leland," said Leland, finally tired of being tied-up like a Colonial Day goose.
"Sir Starbuck," replied the knight, reclining his head. He turned to the dragon and even through his helm, there was a courteous raise of his eyebrow implied in the movement. "And you, ma'am?"
"Don't ma'am me, you hussy," snapped Marigold before she relented slightly, lashing her tail against one of the stalagmites that also littered her cave. "I am Marigold of the Aurora clan. And it is not my pleasure to meet you."
The knight gave a sigh and rocked on his boots. "The king is quite adamant that you be gone. He was discussing plans for a mob with pitchforks and torches if I didn't succeed. And that's not to say he won't send them along, even if I lie and say I did. He wants you gone, unfortunately."
Marigold seemed to slump in upon herself, her scales shifting to a more muted tone. "But where shall I go? My family can't take me in, they're already stretched thin amongst the Caprican mountain range. And my cousins down south in Picon don't like me. Besides, they're rather horrid toads, the lot of them." The last said with some of her original spirit, her tail twitching as though it wished to lash again.
Tugging at his bonds, Leland wondered when one of them would remember he was tied. He opened his mouth to make a polite enquiry, but failed to be heard over the sound of the knight pushing his helm back and pulling off his--her, rather--helmet.
"I suppose you could come back with me," said Sir Starbuck, her tone rather diffident as she looked at the dragon. Her blonde hair was tangled in a coil around her head for padding inside her helmet, and her hazel eyes were intelligent as she waited for an answer from the dragon.
Marigold blinked, the movement shifting the level of color in her scales again, "Why?"
"Well, we have a castle and there's a rather large area of the basement that he hasn't managed to fill with ridiculous projects or books," Sir Starbuck replied, reaching up to scratch the crown of her head. It was a spot which always seemed to collect far too much sweat and annoyance. "And as you said you don't eat humans, I can't see that causing a problem amongst the staff. They're already used to the ghost, after all. What's a dragon on top of that?"
"A ghost?"
Leland was rather curious about that, himself. He'd heard that Delphi Castle seemed to have parts that were reported to randomly go missing, but a ghost as well? Curious.
A grin lit Sir Starbuck's features, "The ghost of an owner past, or so the stories tell. Mostly, Leoben is merely a great nuisance, especially since he's decided I'm some sort of destined hero." The knight snorted, "Which is a load of crap."
"Who else lives in the castle?" Inquired the dragon, her scales nearly their normal color again, "And can you be sure they won't object? After all, I am a dragon, and the legends have done such horrible things to our reputations. It's a wonder any good soul believes me when I say I don't eat small children."
The dragon sniffed, to show her opinion of people like that.
"My husband, and a few servants." Having seemed to remember him, Sir Starbuck strode rather suddenly towards Leland, her steps determined. "And you, Prince Leland, have I your word on this matter?"
He blinked, "My word?"
Then he flinched as she pulled a rather large dagger from her belt. "Your word of honor not to mention my arrangement with the dragon," Sir Starbuck elaborated before bending and slicing the ropes from his wrists. "I suppose I could simply threaten to kill you. After all, your father assumes you're dead..."
"No!" Hastily, Leland scrambled to his feet, almost tripping over his still-bound ankles before the knight courteously sliced them free, "No. I shall give you my word. I won't tell my father Marigold's still alive."
It would be splitting a vocabularic hair, but he could do so. The Dragon could be dead. Marigold would be very much alive. And since his father would never ask after a dragon by name, Leland decided rather virtuously that it wouldn't even be lying to say she was... gone.
"Good." With a decisive nod, the knight straightened and turned to the dragon, "Is there much to pack?"
"Just a bit," said Marigold.
The 'just a bit' turned out to be nearly that: one large trunk Marigold hefted herself and a small duffle of things she refused to leave for those bloody wizards to find in her deserted caves.
Once they were ready to set out, Sir Starbuck took the lead, conversing amiably with the dragon, asking after things such as her dietary requirements.
"I quite like chicken and the occasional side of beef--well done, of course, there's nothing I like worse that raw meat, ugh," Marigold said, her tone cheerful as she moved slowly so that the two humans could keep up with her. "And I cannot abide fish. Blech."
"Then I think we should accommodate you easily," was Sir Starbuck's cheerful reply as she practically skipped.
Leland was hard-pressed to keep up, and he wondered what his father would make of all of this. Perhaps if he put in a good word for the dragons, and impressed upon the old man how much Marigold hadn't wanted to eat him, he would relent. Though he would still keep his word on the disposition of his erstwhile captor. For as much as Marigold frightened him, Sir Starbuck had a certain glint of madness in her eyes that suggested crossing her would be a bad idea.
-=-
The draw bridge was opening, making that slight hitching creaking noise he was always meaning to fix--if he just had the time to do so. Kara had suggested to him on more than one occasion that if he'd just invent a time machine, all of his problems would be solved. Not so, but Lord Samuel Anders hadn't bothered to explain after the third time (which had ended in a rather boisterous shouting match where it had occurred to him that she was simply being provoking on purpose and had stopped mid-sentence to kiss her silent).
He made another notation on the measurements of his latest idea, then rubbed the back of his neck and stood up. The draw bridge meant Kara was back, and she would twit him if he didn't come down to greet her. A rather smug look crossed his lips, as he didn't exactly mind greeting his rather incredible wife.
Some days, he still wondered what she saw in him.
Most days, he simply appreciated that fact. Like today. Grabbing the pencil which had been hovering over the desk, tapping erratically, Sam sighed, "Yes, I know she's back. Thank you."
He didn't bother naming Leoben, as that always seemed to make the ghost even more excitable. Instead, he simply left him in the work room and clattered down the stairs, bursting into the hallway at a quick jog.
Kara was still in the courtyard, directing the maid of all work to fetch her bag from the bridge. When Sam caught Kara by the waist, pulling her in and kissing her soundly, she happily replied in kind, her arms winding around his neck and her body aligning with his.
"Mmm." She finally said, kissing his nose and grinning at him, "Missed me, huh?"
"Always." Brushing a finger along her cheek, he wondered how fast he could get her out of her traveling clothes.
"Sam, there's something--"
A shriek came from the bridge followed by the terrified maid dashing back towards them, waving her arms, "There's a dragon, m'lord, a dragon!"
Kara huffed out a sigh and gave him a half-quizzical, half-penitent look, "She followed me home, Sammy, can I keep her?"
"A dragon followed you home?" Sam asked, rather amused at the prospect.
"Yes."
Slinging an arm around his wife, he strode towards the entranceway, wondering just what she would promise to do for him if he agreed. Dish duty for a month? A year?
The dragon was on the other side of the moat, her eyes closed and wings spread, giving the appearance of a rather contented cat, basking in the sunlight. Sam was pretty sure he could hear purring coming from the rather fantastical creature.
"Marigold!" called Kara, pulling free of him, "Allow me to introduce my husband."
"Oh yes?" the dragon opened her eyes and peered at Sam, seeming to frown before she said, "Oh, it's you."
"Hallo, Marigold," Sam said, moving closer and reaching up to scratch her eye ridge just where she liked it. "I thought you'd gone to live with Astrid's kin?"
"Well, I had tried..." leaning into the scratch, Marigold sighed. "But younglings are rather annoying, and a dragon has to live on her own, after all. Make her own way in the world."
"You know each other?" asked Kara, her disbelief shading to amusement rather swiftly.
"Sam was one of my first," Marigold replied, giving Kara a pleased look, "Not a wizard, but a scholar who was very interested in little old me." She sounded rather flattered, even now, "It was quite nice and we spent days discussing so much. Sam, I'm so glad to see you found yourself a wife. A man like you needs one."
"He'd never eat, otherwise," Kara said, her tone loving and exasperated.
"Indeed. Speaking of food, I haven't eaten in nearly a week..."
Patting Kara's shoulder, Sam nodded towards the castle, "You'll need to fly round to the rear, we've got a nice little courtyard that you can use. And I'll see that cook adds more than a few chickens to tonight's stew."
"Thank you kindly, Sam." With a shiver and a twist, Marigold backed up and launched herself at the sky.
It was quite obvious, as she circled several times and completed one or two complicated maneuvers, that she was shaking out the fidgets of a long journey.
Sam didn't mind, he was quite occupied with kissing his wife again as well as wondering if, perhaps, he could have supper put off a bit. After all, Marigold could take care of herself, and Kara was murmuring rather interesting ideas in his ear as she nuzzled his neck.
"We should warn Hilliard," Kara suggested as she pushed him across the bridge and back into the castle.
"I'll tell him."
"And I'll let Cally know the dragon won't eat her."
Sam triggered the closing of the bridge and kissed her rather heatedly, then sighed, "I'll see you later, then."
"Later," Kara agreed, grabbing his collar and pulling him down for another kiss.
Then they separated before they could get too distracted. Sam hoped Marigold wouldn't mind the delay, and also made a note to mention to Hilliard that the news of the dragon would have to be carefully shaded to the townspeople. Possibly, she would be filed as yet another oddity at Delphi Castle.
Having legends about the place did, occasionally, work to their advantage.
-f-
genre; Alternate Universe, alternate reality, crack.
pairing: Kara Thrace/Sam Anders
characters: Kara, Leland Adama, Sam Anders
rating: ...PG. There is sort of violence and kissing.
length: 2500+
notes: I blame
lucyparavel, The Blue Sword and The Hero and the Crown, though this is definitely of lighter fare. I've been reading Barbara Metzger again and it shows. The Tale of Sir Starbuck and The Golden Dragon of Galactica
by ALC Punk!
"Every year, it's the same," Marigold the dragon told Leland Adama. She shifted a little on her nest, and then sniffled a little, sending the stench of sulphur into the room.
Leland, for his part, stayed in his corner, wishing that the townspeople hadn't trussed him up quite so thoroughly. Perhaps if he humored her... "Every year?" he prompted, wondering how an evil, pillaging dragon had come to be named Marigold.
"They don't ask, you know. They just assume--" she tapped a claw and snorted, "As though I'm a common, trouble-making dragon without their... pittances.
"It's all that bloody St. George's fault, I say," continued the dragon, not needing prompting anymore. She wasn't quite in full spate, but Leland could see the slight glow to the edges of her scales. She was obviously working herself up to something. "Had to run afoul of my cousin Astrid, and she just HAD to let him kill her."
Marigold sniffed, making it clear she would never be caught in such a pickle.
"And then of course, what could the rest of us do but hide even more? And even then, there's those that'll come after dragons with pitchforks and mobs," Marigold's talons tapped an annoyed tattoo on the stone of her nest. "Even those what do nothin' get 'em. Or we get stupid tributes and virgins once a year--usually cut-throats and trouble-makers the village wants off their hands."
"I'm not--"
"Sometimes, we actually get virgins," conceded the dragon.
Leland had the grace to blush.
It wasn't that he liked being a virgin, it was that he simply hadn't found the right woman who matched his exceedingly long list of qualifications to give that virginity to. Really, his virginity, in the end, had little to do with his current predicament, and he considered telling Marigold that.
But she was ranting again.
"It's always knights come to save the fair maiden, or wizards who want scales for spells, or rather bumbling heroes who have rewards to collect. Almost enough to make a good dragon reconsider her morals," grumped Marigold.
"What do you do with them, then?" Leland asked, suddenly rather curious. The dragon's chamber was large and littered with dust and rocks and bits of shiny debris, but he couldn't see anything that looked like piles of bones or leftovers from virgin meals. Perhaps there was hope for him yet.
"Depends," replied Marigold, looking the slightest bit shifty. She huffed out another breath full of sulphur and started studying the talons on one hand. "Sometimes, I put 'em to work, sometimes they escape..."
"Sometimes you eat them?" suggested Leland, not really wanting that to be the truth, but it was probably best to get the bad news out of the way early. It would save him quite a bit of worrying time, and he could concentrate on other things: like trying to figure out how to escape.
"Maybe." The dragon narrowed her eyes and studied him thoughtfully for a moment, "Sometimes, I make bargains with them. Do you have a skill, little virgin?"
Leland opened his mouth and Marigold suddenly pounced, like a kitten. A very large kitten who smelled of burning wood. her claws poked him lightly, and she seemed to be frowning, "Not much meat on you, perhaps that's why they sent you? Did you try to marry the wrong girl, perhaps?"
Before Leland could work up some sort of reply that would be cutting, insulting, indignant and correct, there was a clatter near the entrance to the dragon's cave. The clatter was followed by a knight striding inside, his movements confident, and his sword pointed unerringly at Marigold.
"Stand and deliver!" The knight cried out, "I am here to challenge you, dragon!" Then the knight took in the whole of the scene, and added, his tone dry, "And release him, please."
Marigold made an irritated noise and opened her mouth, displaying rather too many shiny teeth for Leland's comfort, "And what if I do not, sir knight? I ask out of mere formality, of course. I've bitter experience with relatives who have attempted to reason with you lunkheads and utterly failed."
The answer seemed to give the knight pause, but his sword didn't waver, "Release him, or I shall fight you."
"Oh, this is ridiculous!" Marigold dropped Leland, not seeming to care that he was now tied-up and bruised, and lashed her tail, turning to face the knight. "I am not going to eat him. And if you really want him, you can have him!"
Not pausing for breath, she continued, "I just want to be left in peace save for the occasional nice bit of red meat and possibly a visit from a relative or two. Is that too much to ask?"
The knight shifted, clanking a little before he sheathed his sword with a quick movement. "I'm afraid it's not that simple," he said, his voice less over-bearing. "The king will send others, you see. Apparently, the old man was ok as long as it was thieves and political enemies being sent up here, but now someone's sent his son... well, that changes things, you see."
"Is that who the virgin is?" Marigold huffed, and the knight stepped back from the wave of stench. "Bugger. How entirely provoking."
"My name is Leland," said Leland, finally tired of being tied-up like a Colonial Day goose.
"Sir Starbuck," replied the knight, reclining his head. He turned to the dragon and even through his helm, there was a courteous raise of his eyebrow implied in the movement. "And you, ma'am?"
"Don't ma'am me, you hussy," snapped Marigold before she relented slightly, lashing her tail against one of the stalagmites that also littered her cave. "I am Marigold of the Aurora clan. And it is not my pleasure to meet you."
The knight gave a sigh and rocked on his boots. "The king is quite adamant that you be gone. He was discussing plans for a mob with pitchforks and torches if I didn't succeed. And that's not to say he won't send them along, even if I lie and say I did. He wants you gone, unfortunately."
Marigold seemed to slump in upon herself, her scales shifting to a more muted tone. "But where shall I go? My family can't take me in, they're already stretched thin amongst the Caprican mountain range. And my cousins down south in Picon don't like me. Besides, they're rather horrid toads, the lot of them." The last said with some of her original spirit, her tail twitching as though it wished to lash again.
Tugging at his bonds, Leland wondered when one of them would remember he was tied. He opened his mouth to make a polite enquiry, but failed to be heard over the sound of the knight pushing his helm back and pulling off his--her, rather--helmet.
"I suppose you could come back with me," said Sir Starbuck, her tone rather diffident as she looked at the dragon. Her blonde hair was tangled in a coil around her head for padding inside her helmet, and her hazel eyes were intelligent as she waited for an answer from the dragon.
Marigold blinked, the movement shifting the level of color in her scales again, "Why?"
"Well, we have a castle and there's a rather large area of the basement that he hasn't managed to fill with ridiculous projects or books," Sir Starbuck replied, reaching up to scratch the crown of her head. It was a spot which always seemed to collect far too much sweat and annoyance. "And as you said you don't eat humans, I can't see that causing a problem amongst the staff. They're already used to the ghost, after all. What's a dragon on top of that?"
"A ghost?"
Leland was rather curious about that, himself. He'd heard that Delphi Castle seemed to have parts that were reported to randomly go missing, but a ghost as well? Curious.
A grin lit Sir Starbuck's features, "The ghost of an owner past, or so the stories tell. Mostly, Leoben is merely a great nuisance, especially since he's decided I'm some sort of destined hero." The knight snorted, "Which is a load of crap."
"Who else lives in the castle?" Inquired the dragon, her scales nearly their normal color again, "And can you be sure they won't object? After all, I am a dragon, and the legends have done such horrible things to our reputations. It's a wonder any good soul believes me when I say I don't eat small children."
The dragon sniffed, to show her opinion of people like that.
"My husband, and a few servants." Having seemed to remember him, Sir Starbuck strode rather suddenly towards Leland, her steps determined. "And you, Prince Leland, have I your word on this matter?"
He blinked, "My word?"
Then he flinched as she pulled a rather large dagger from her belt. "Your word of honor not to mention my arrangement with the dragon," Sir Starbuck elaborated before bending and slicing the ropes from his wrists. "I suppose I could simply threaten to kill you. After all, your father assumes you're dead..."
"No!" Hastily, Leland scrambled to his feet, almost tripping over his still-bound ankles before the knight courteously sliced them free, "No. I shall give you my word. I won't tell my father Marigold's still alive."
It would be splitting a vocabularic hair, but he could do so. The Dragon could be dead. Marigold would be very much alive. And since his father would never ask after a dragon by name, Leland decided rather virtuously that it wouldn't even be lying to say she was... gone.
"Good." With a decisive nod, the knight straightened and turned to the dragon, "Is there much to pack?"
"Just a bit," said Marigold.
The 'just a bit' turned out to be nearly that: one large trunk Marigold hefted herself and a small duffle of things she refused to leave for those bloody wizards to find in her deserted caves.
Once they were ready to set out, Sir Starbuck took the lead, conversing amiably with the dragon, asking after things such as her dietary requirements.
"I quite like chicken and the occasional side of beef--well done, of course, there's nothing I like worse that raw meat, ugh," Marigold said, her tone cheerful as she moved slowly so that the two humans could keep up with her. "And I cannot abide fish. Blech."
"Then I think we should accommodate you easily," was Sir Starbuck's cheerful reply as she practically skipped.
Leland was hard-pressed to keep up, and he wondered what his father would make of all of this. Perhaps if he put in a good word for the dragons, and impressed upon the old man how much Marigold hadn't wanted to eat him, he would relent. Though he would still keep his word on the disposition of his erstwhile captor. For as much as Marigold frightened him, Sir Starbuck had a certain glint of madness in her eyes that suggested crossing her would be a bad idea.
-=-
The draw bridge was opening, making that slight hitching creaking noise he was always meaning to fix--if he just had the time to do so. Kara had suggested to him on more than one occasion that if he'd just invent a time machine, all of his problems would be solved. Not so, but Lord Samuel Anders hadn't bothered to explain after the third time (which had ended in a rather boisterous shouting match where it had occurred to him that she was simply being provoking on purpose and had stopped mid-sentence to kiss her silent).
He made another notation on the measurements of his latest idea, then rubbed the back of his neck and stood up. The draw bridge meant Kara was back, and she would twit him if he didn't come down to greet her. A rather smug look crossed his lips, as he didn't exactly mind greeting his rather incredible wife.
Some days, he still wondered what she saw in him.
Most days, he simply appreciated that fact. Like today. Grabbing the pencil which had been hovering over the desk, tapping erratically, Sam sighed, "Yes, I know she's back. Thank you."
He didn't bother naming Leoben, as that always seemed to make the ghost even more excitable. Instead, he simply left him in the work room and clattered down the stairs, bursting into the hallway at a quick jog.
Kara was still in the courtyard, directing the maid of all work to fetch her bag from the bridge. When Sam caught Kara by the waist, pulling her in and kissing her soundly, she happily replied in kind, her arms winding around his neck and her body aligning with his.
"Mmm." She finally said, kissing his nose and grinning at him, "Missed me, huh?"
"Always." Brushing a finger along her cheek, he wondered how fast he could get her out of her traveling clothes.
"Sam, there's something--"
A shriek came from the bridge followed by the terrified maid dashing back towards them, waving her arms, "There's a dragon, m'lord, a dragon!"
Kara huffed out a sigh and gave him a half-quizzical, half-penitent look, "She followed me home, Sammy, can I keep her?"
"A dragon followed you home?" Sam asked, rather amused at the prospect.
"Yes."
Slinging an arm around his wife, he strode towards the entranceway, wondering just what she would promise to do for him if he agreed. Dish duty for a month? A year?
The dragon was on the other side of the moat, her eyes closed and wings spread, giving the appearance of a rather contented cat, basking in the sunlight. Sam was pretty sure he could hear purring coming from the rather fantastical creature.
"Marigold!" called Kara, pulling free of him, "Allow me to introduce my husband."
"Oh yes?" the dragon opened her eyes and peered at Sam, seeming to frown before she said, "Oh, it's you."
"Hallo, Marigold," Sam said, moving closer and reaching up to scratch her eye ridge just where she liked it. "I thought you'd gone to live with Astrid's kin?"
"Well, I had tried..." leaning into the scratch, Marigold sighed. "But younglings are rather annoying, and a dragon has to live on her own, after all. Make her own way in the world."
"You know each other?" asked Kara, her disbelief shading to amusement rather swiftly.
"Sam was one of my first," Marigold replied, giving Kara a pleased look, "Not a wizard, but a scholar who was very interested in little old me." She sounded rather flattered, even now, "It was quite nice and we spent days discussing so much. Sam, I'm so glad to see you found yourself a wife. A man like you needs one."
"He'd never eat, otherwise," Kara said, her tone loving and exasperated.
"Indeed. Speaking of food, I haven't eaten in nearly a week..."
Patting Kara's shoulder, Sam nodded towards the castle, "You'll need to fly round to the rear, we've got a nice little courtyard that you can use. And I'll see that cook adds more than a few chickens to tonight's stew."
"Thank you kindly, Sam." With a shiver and a twist, Marigold backed up and launched herself at the sky.
It was quite obvious, as she circled several times and completed one or two complicated maneuvers, that she was shaking out the fidgets of a long journey.
Sam didn't mind, he was quite occupied with kissing his wife again as well as wondering if, perhaps, he could have supper put off a bit. After all, Marigold could take care of herself, and Kara was murmuring rather interesting ideas in his ear as she nuzzled his neck.
"We should warn Hilliard," Kara suggested as she pushed him across the bridge and back into the castle.
"I'll tell him."
"And I'll let Cally know the dragon won't eat her."
Sam triggered the closing of the bridge and kissed her rather heatedly, then sighed, "I'll see you later, then."
"Later," Kara agreed, grabbing his collar and pulling him down for another kiss.
Then they separated before they could get too distracted. Sam hoped Marigold wouldn't mind the delay, and also made a note to mention to Hilliard that the news of the dragon would have to be carefully shaded to the townspeople. Possibly, she would be filed as yet another oddity at Delphi Castle.
Having legends about the place did, occasionally, work to their advantage.
-f-
no subject
no subject
no subject
no subject
Thank you =D
no subject
Hee hee hee. I can't stop giggling. Of course Starbuck is Lee's knight in shinning armor.
no subject
I have read enough to be happy about trying it out. ;]
Thank you =D
I didn't intend to make Lee the virgin, but then I did, and it all fell into place after that.