Dragon Heart

There is a story about a dragon who never lost and was always right, except for the one time it mattered. Short mythical medieval AU drabble.

What's this? The woman asked, holding up a bronze amulet. The pendant was set with a solid stone the shade of a cold sky, or the color of the ice so far north that your very blood freezes. It was almost definitely the least precious thing in the dragon's cave; everything else was silver and gold and encrusted with gemstones that glittered. The rock was simply heavy, and cold. It warmed at her touch.

That? The dragon swung its massive head around to stare at the amulet with wide eyes. That's nothing. It's not worth it's setting. You don't want that.

I think it's the prettiest thing in here. The woman said, just to be contrary.

I think you're a fool. The dragon said. And you're going to be the death of me.

The reason she was in the dragon's cave was simple in theory, though stupid and treacherous and suicidal in practice. She'd tricked him.

She'd tricked the dragon who was always right, who never, ever got anything wrong, even when it seemed there was no way he could be right. Nature seemingly bent over backwards to make sure everything went his way. On the off chance that he was somehow duped, it always worked out to the dragon's favor in the end. And the dragon never fell for a lie, or a trick, not even from a beautiful woman like she.

Except that he had, and she wondered why. And how. And if this was just one of the dragon's infamous plots to catch her off guard, to play with her. He was known for it.

But she'd won a bet with him, an impossible bet, and he'd done as promised and brought her to his haul. None of the stories ever told of anything like this. She was probably the first human to set eyes on the dragon's treasure - she doubted he'd ever voluntarily let her see it.

Another reason she was here was also very simple: her village, which lived at the base of this mountain, was in trouble. There was an epidemic of the white fever, and legends held that the dragon could cure such things, or that he had something in his stash with the power to.

"Magic's not real, you know." The dragon had said when she'd told him her purpose here. This was just before that bet.

"Then what are you?" The woman asked.

The dragon shrugged his wings and tore a deep gouge in the stone with one claw. "I'm just me."

That wasn't really an answer, but the woman had been brought up to respect everyone - one never knew if a stranger was really a hex witch, and rude people tended to fall sick or have bad harvests. She didn't ask again.

She did gasp when she saw the dragon's treasure, though, glittering in his breath's fire and sitting there, a cold and lifeless substitute. Kind of like an apology.

The woman put the bronze amulet down, and continued to look. She had a mission. But constantly, her mind went back to it. Passing by again, she found her hand had reached out and taken it again. It was still warm.

What is it? She asked again.

It's nothing. The dragon said again, looking away.

She had just won that bet, and he had just gotten over his shock. He crouched to let her climb gracelessly onto his back, between the spikes.

"You're cold." The woman said, not expecting that. Or she would have been, had she had any expectations beyond dying today in a breath of dragon fire. She could feel his chest swell with breath beneath her, but felt no heartbeat. "I can't feel your heart." She announced, frowning.

"That's because dragons don't have hearts." He told her, and then he took off.

The wind stole her next words from her, but she was pretty sure he heard anyway. "Everything has a heart somewhere."

So, that bet. It was stupid. It was foolish. And it was impossible for the dragon to lose; so, it was strange that he did. It surprised the both of them.

She had told him that he couldn't best her - not in anything. She let him pick the task. She won.

He's still not sure how, but he has ideas. And he's pretty sure she cheated.

She didn't.

Finally the woman just put the amulet on over her head.

What are you doing? The dragon asked, alarmed. You wanted something to help your village. That doesn't help anyone. You only get to pick one thing - that was the deal.

Instead of answering, she looked him straight in those ice blue, sky blue eyes. What happened to your heart? She asked.

Dragons don't have hearts. The dragon said.

Lie.

I don't have a heart. The dragon said.

Lie.

It hurt. The dragon said. So I cut it out. It hurt too much. I don't like pain. No one does.

Most do not go so far to avoid it. She observed wryly.

It was always hurting. It never stopped. I couldn't... I had to. I had to. It's voice just a whisper, the dragon seemed to shrink before her very eyes. He really was shrinking, those steel gray scales vanishing, the mass folding in on itself, the wings melting into his back. A thousand times smaller, a man stood in its place. He had ice blue eyes, cold sky eyes, a rough shave, short hair and the kind of face that always accompanied a generally bad attitude.

Do you want it back? The woman asked, offering the amulet and its beautiful, precious stone setting.

It's worthless. The man said again. You keep it. I'm tired of protecting it.

The woman told the dragon he could pick the challenge, but he liked her spirit, her willingness to play his games. He told her to pick. She bet him that he couldn't fall in love, surprising both of them with the challenge. For the first time in his very long life, the dragon lost.

And then, in the end, he wound up winning anyway. But that's another story.