Two Mates for the Dragon

Rami gave her a thoughtful glance. “I assume everyone is here for their own reasons. To escape an unhappy life, to prove themselves worthy, to have everyone admire them for being chosen, to gain love. Most of us will have to return home feeling like a failure, or being seen as one. And those of us who are chosen will give up our entire lives that we had before. To take a risk like that, you have to want something so much that losing it will break your heart.”

Mirel hadn’t thought of it like that before. She’d supposed the rest of the candidates were there because they thought they were so great that of course a dragon would choose them. But, taking a closer look at the others, she saw that many of them didn’t seem as confident as she’d have guessed, and more had plastered on proud expressions that kept

slipping to reveal fear, sadness, longing, desperation, hope…

She sighed. It had been easier to sit on the grass in the middle of the perfect people when she’d been able to hold them in contempt. Then she looked again at Rami, at the austere angles of his face and at his eyes, gray as mist, which saw so much beneath the surface.

If the dragons had any sense, they’d take him, she thought. He’s not the pretty boy type, but he’s so striking. You’d never get tired of looking at him. And he’s kind. And he doesn’t just look, he sees…

“What do you want, Rami?” she asked.

He looked at her as gravely as if her question was the most important thing in the world—as if she was the most important thing in the world. Mirel, who had spent a lifetime being ignored and overlooked, wasn’t used to that level of attention. Unsettled, she looked away.

“I didn’t come here to be chosen,” he said.

“What?” Mirel was baffled. “If you don’t want to be a dragon’s mate, then why are you here?”

“I didn’t say I didn’t want to,” Rami said. His expressive face and deep voice was suffused with longing as he went on, “I do want to. But I can’t. I’m dying, you see. Not today. Not tomorrow. But I won’t see another summer. So I don’t qualify. I could father children, I suppose, but I wouldn’t live to raise them. I came because I wanted to see the dragons before I die. I’ve heard they’re beautiful.”

Mirel didn’t know what to say. She had only just met him, but she was shocked and saddened by his words. It seemed so wrong that someone as kind and honest and alive as him had so little time left.

“What—” she began, then wanted to slap herself. “I’m sorry. It’s none of my business. And I’m sorry, Rami.”

Easily, he said, “Don’t worry. I’ve had more time to get used to it. My whole life, actually—I was never expected to live this long. Something was wrong from the day I was born. I’m too tall, my fingers are too long… and my heart is weak. It’s giving out. Nothing to be done. What about you, Mirel? Why are you here?”

Her reasons felt small and petty compared to having less than a year to live. But, looking into his cloud-gray eyes, she knew that he was interested. That he wouldn’t think her motivation was small or petty.

“I was born like this, too,” she said, gesturing at her legs. “Everyone thinks I’m useless…” Her voice trailed off as she realized that while that was true, it wasn’t the reason why she’d come.

Slowly, feeling it out as she said it, she went on, “I come from a village that grows barley. We eat barley bread and barley soup and barley stew. We sleep on mattresses stuffed with barley straw. And every day, we plow the barley or harvest the barley or water the barley or plant the barley or shoo the crows off the barley or pick the bugs off the barley or grind the barley into barley flour. We’ve done nothing else for hundreds of years. Maybe thousands. Long after I’m dead, that village will still be full of people whose entire existence revolves around barley.”

Rami chuckled.

Warmed by his amusement, Mirel managed a smile. “So I’m here for the same reason as you. I know I won’t be chosen. I only wanted to see something beautiful and amazing that I can treasure in my memory for the rest of my barley-filled life.”

He took a silver flask from his pack and raised it. “To beautiful memories.”

She slipped her leather canteen from her belt and touched it to his. “To beautiful memories.”

They both drank. To her annoyance, Mirel discovered that someone—her money was on her interfering aunt—had apparently dumped out the water in her canteen and refilled it with barley tea. But at least it was cool, which was welcome, for the unshaded meadow was beginning to get hot.

“Shall we have lunch?” Mirel asked. No one else was eating, though she was sure they all had food in their packs—they had to, for the field was far from any human settlements—but she supposed the rest of the candidates didn’t want to risk a dragon catching them with spinach in their teeth.

Before Rami could reply, a loud rumble made them both jump. Mirel turned to see a handsome man sitting behind them. Now he was the sort a dragon would want, with his ruggedly masculine features, deep blue eyes, sunny blonde hair, and strong, perfectly proportioned, flawless body. Mira couldn’t help finding him extremely attractive. A pang of jealousy went through her, both for herself and on Rami’s behalf. Life was so unfair.

“Sorry,” the man said, blushing. “Please pretend you didn’t hear that.”

That wasn’t quite enough to win Mirel over, but it did make her smile. “Are you hungry? You could have some of my lunch.”

The man looked down, obviously embarrassed. “No, thank you, I’m fine.” His stomach growled again. “Well...”

“Where’s your pack?” Rami asked. Mirel hadn’t noticed before, but the stranger didn’t have one.

“I lost it,” he confessed. “On my way here, I missed a step on the stepping stones and fell into the river. The current yanked it right off my back. Still, I only live a day’s walk away. If I don’t get chosen, it’s not as if I’ll starve before I can get back.”

“Don’t be ridiculous,” said Mirel. “I have plenty. If you don’t mind barley.”

She took out her lunch, which was wrapped in dampened barley leaves and pinned with bits of dried barley stalk, and unfolded the leaves to reveal her solid if unexciting meal of flat barley bread wrapped around a filling of boiled barley. She slid it over to the stranger, along with her canteen.