Princess of Dragons

Chapter 22

Lodin looked up once there was a knock on his door.

"Yes?" He leaned back, welcoming the break.

"It is Sergon, my king. May I enter?" Tthey both knew it was nothing but a formality at this point.

"You may."

Sergon quickly opened it and slipped inside, quietly closing it behind him before facing Lodin again.

Lodin raised an eyebrow. "So?"

Sergon's lips tilted upwards. "She is doing well, my king," he said. "This was the first time she was properly conscious. I have been told she had been having some quite vivid night-terrors of the day she arrived here."

Lodin nodded. That explained the dragon's whining, then.

"I see." He urged the Commander to continue the report with a wave of his hand.

"In terms of her condition, she is still very exhausted and weak, but she is healing," he continued. "The ointment seems to be working as well - she felt nothing of the wound when I asked her."

"All right." Lodin crossed his arms. "Once the ointment wears off, place a lavender incense in her room. That should take the edge of it. Anything else to report?"

Sergon looked at him with a slightly amused expression.

"No, nothing in particular." He looked as though he may burst out laughing any second now.

Lodin stared at his friend for a long moment, then rolled his eyes.

"Please do share with me whatever you find so amusing." It seemed this exact situation had happened so often these last few days. Lodin really had no time to discourage whatever nonsense the other man was cooking up.

And so, as expected, the Commander continued to smile like that. Even as he denied everything.

"Oh, it is nothing, my king."

Simply from the use of that pronoun, the king knew this was likely not 'nothing', and that it'd be something Sergon would take with him to the grave.

"How did the questioning go?" the Commander asked, steering the conversation in another direction.

Lodin sighed deeply. "Nothing apart from what we already know."

The fact that he was an assassin from the West, aiming to kill the king of this kingdom had all been made obvious with that arrow. The poison was one they often used in the West, and they were the only ones with the audacity to enter the castle like that.

"It would seem we will have to use other means of interrogation if we want anything useful from him."

Sergon scratched his chin. "I suppose, if that truly is our only option." The thought clearly didn't sit right with him. It never had, he'd always been far too honest and good for that sort of thing.

Nonetheless, it was what had to be done.

Lodin nodded. "It is."

An advantage in any capacity was invaluable if they wanted to win this war. And they would, whatever means necessary.

Their conversation was halted there when heavy footsteps came to a stop outside the office, followed by a sharp knock on the door.

"It is Arthas, my king," the man spoke from the other side, an agitated note to his curt self-introduction.

Lodin exchanged a single, questioning look with Sergon.

"Enter." Lodin watched as the mature man stepped in, leaving the door wide open. "What is the problem?" Clear irritation was written in the man's sharp movements and light glare. As a matter of fact, Lodin was already quite sure he knew exactly what this was all about.

The man stood right on the other side of the desk, staring down at the young king.

"The beast," Arthas simply stated, positively seething. "It is violent and incredibly hostile. Again."

Sergon crossed his arms. "It is merely worried for the princess' well-being. Especially with the night-terrors she has been having," he told the other Commander. "Give it a few days and she will be able to calm it down."

Arthas turned to his fellow Commander with the slightest of glares.

"Perhaps so, but it is frightening the workers here with all its snarling and snapping."

Lodin sighed, feeling the old man was unlikely to budge on this. "We will see what can be done about it."

Perhaps, if they were lucky, her two guards would have learned enough already to do something about it temporarily.

Arthas remained silent for a moment, thinking. Concocting some reason or other for why that wouldn't be enough.

"Should your plans fail, I suggest my men restrain it." He didn't give the slightest damn about the dirty looks he was receiving from Sergon. "We cannot have rampaging dragons on castle-grounds. It would be far too dangerous for everyone involved."

Why was it always the same with this old man?

"You will not touch the dragon unless I tell you to."

"But why?" Arthas asked, brows drawing together. "Surely you must also understand the dangers it presents."

"I do understand your concerns; they are certainly not unfounded." He leaned back and crossed his arms. "However, that dragon is off-limits for you and your men."

It had already proven itself useful a few times and most recently in the capture of the assassin. He couldn't punish it simply for being a little worried.

Arthas' eyes narrowed down as he looked at the king searchingly. "So, she has poisoned your mind too now, has she?" He snorted.

Now it was the king's eyes which narrowed dangerously. "Would you care to elaborate on that?" he sharply asked. "And I suggest you be very careful with your next words."

"I simply mean to warn you about her. You cannot know what that kingdom of hers, filled with beasts as it is, has sent her to do."

Sergon glared at the man. "Ciara wo-"

Lodin shot up from his seat so quickly it fell and clattered on the floor as he brought his fist down on the desk between them.

"You dare insult the woman who saved my very life?!"

For a long moment, the two glared straight at each other, none of them breaking their eye-contact. At no point did Arthas move to say anything either.

Slowly, Lodin lifted his hand and pointed to the open door, still glaring at the Dragon Slayer.

"Get out of my office. Right now."

Arthas kept the eye-contact for another long moment, before silently turning around and striding out of the room. His back was held so straight, his head so high, one might have thought he'd been the one to win this little argument.

Lodin kept his eyes on the entrance long after the man was out of sight. Finally, he dropped it to stare at the mahogany wood instead, both of his fists curling into balls.

"What the hell has my inner castle become?"