Author's Note:
This is a story based, of course, on Dungeons and Dragons. Please understand that this is definitely meant to be a unique one; I would appreciate if no one sent me things like "But elves age at the normal rate and then live for centuries, don't they?" Because in this world, they simply age about 1/5 as fast as humans. Thus it takes a child fifty years to reach maturity equivalent to a ten-year-old human, and such. If you sincerely think I have made a mistake within the D&D system, feel free to tell me; I will listen.
No sound is heard in the air but the muffled noise that comes from within the soft cloudy bower, covered with mist and smelling wonderfully of magic, to those who might be able to sniff it out. This is the lair of a silver dragon, for no other mortal creature would have such a place in which to live. Three rooms were this place now, though the only living presence was in the smallest. There was a cavernous room filled to brimming with treasure beyond imaginable worth to the average person, or even the wealthy person; this, as any average person knows, is where the dragon sleeps. There was a rather messy room stocked with assorted frozen meats and similar things; this was, of course, the dragon's feeding room. And last of all, the smallest, was a still respectably large (to the humanoid thought) room padded fully with warm blankets and almost-solid cloudstuff. This was where two figures lay, entwined, and asleep. They had been rolling about a bit in lustful passion, but now had faded to happy slumber. Both, of course, were entirely devoid of clothing; a handsome and bronzed man, and a slender and beautiful woman.
Someone stirred. Many joyful nights and days had gone by with the happy couple, enjoying each other's company. The one who stirred now, in their wonderfully soft bower of love, was the woman. Her name was Jenai, and she was an elf. Jenai sat up and considered herself. She seemed to have been plumping out a bit, oddly... she didn't know why, hadn't a clue. Jenai had been working out and excercising and eating properly; she even went on occasional rides with Harro! And besides, elves were almost always thin. So what was it? Jenai, as she did every morning, considered that thought. This time she persued the nasty idea lurking on the edge of her subconcious, and caught it.
And Jenai screamed. "HARRO!" The bronzed man awoke abruptly, and vanished. In his place stood a mighty silver dragon, glaring around, trying to find what had scared his beloved.
"What, love?" he asked, concerned, when he found no one there. "What is the matter?"
Jenai stared at him, face going red. "You promised you wouldn't- not yet- you said- it wouldn't happen yet- you- I'm -" she spluttered, anger forcing its way into her face. Jenai's normally pretty face was becoming slightly ugly, ruined by the awful expression upon it. It was anger, it was unhappiness. It was... mistrust? Why would his beloved look at him so? He, who had always treated her with kindness and love? And seen it returned in kind? They loved each other and had for a long time, so why would she suddenly feel this way?
"What?" said Harro, who remained in dragon form, but looked elvenly worried anyway. "What's wrong, love?" He, who loved Jenai with all his heart, could not understand why she was so upset and.. angry. Why was this?
Jenai took a deep breath, summoning her courage to say the dread phrase, and spoke. "I'm p-p-pregnant, you fool! You promised that wouldn't happen yet!"
Harro stared. Within his deep green eyes, that held no pupils, he was shocked. "What?"
"I told you! I'm pregnant! Take me home, now. I will not stay here with some untrustable - untrustable - dragon who lies to me! We are through!"
Harro's deep eyes held much sorrow for his now-lost love. "I did not lie to you, Jenai. I never meant for this to happen. But if you would leave me, so be it. But when our child is born, at least can you find it in your heart to let me visit him?"
"Or her." Jenai, of course, however much she hated the father now, did want this child, and wanted a girl. Very, very much. So she corrected Harro on the careless bit of speech that was common, which only last night she would have passed it by without notice, snapping at him.
"Or her," Harro amended. "I will take you home now, if you truly wish it." And how Harro hoped she did not!
"I do!" she spat, still angry. Jenai even failed to be touched by Harro's still-undying loyalty to her. Even when she screamed at him, yelled, had told him they were through, he would still carry her home. Jenai, hot with the fires of anger, did not notice. Nor did she notice that Harro carried her as gently as ever, and made no error in bringing her to Amarylla, her home.
But Jenai did notice, and after some while was sad, that she did not see hide nor hair of Harro again, not until a year later, when her child was three months old. But first, it must be admitted, she had to endure the wrenching pain of giving birth.
"Push, dear, push! She's almost out.. you'll see in a moment.. just one more push..!" cried the birthing-woman, encouraging Jenai in her pain. Jenai could barely hear, but even so she heaved, panting and gasping, and tears streamed down her cheeks. "Come now, just a bit more..!" cried the birthing-woman again. "Go on..."
And there was a cry as Jenai's daughter announced herself to the world, breathing the first breath of air, and cried. She was handed to her mother, who looked at the child with joy. A perfect baby, in her opinion. The girl was rather pale for a baby, and somehow there was a metallic sheen to her skin, silvery. And there were slight bumps on her shoulderblades. Jenai, disregarding these, hugged the baby happily, careful, however, not to injure her, and cried tears of joy.
The joyful mother looked at her daughter, her first child, and declared, "Her name is Loriana."
