The Dragon's Match

III

III

＊*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚ ˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊

It was the snowflake that landed on his nose that brought him from his reverie.

Suddenly cockeyed, Aëghan blinked, his boots grinding to a halt upon the gravel as he suddenly became aware of his surroundings.

Shit, he had done it again.

The trees of the forest stirred with the wind that billowed across the open road he was stationed in the centre of, sending snowflakes eddying and twirling across his vision, and light dustings of powder began to settle on the evergreen leaves and boughs stretched towards him. He cursed inwardly, assessing his location, and quickly assured himself that he was alone, that his brief foray from the Ravensfield estate went unnoticed. A cluster of pixies made their presence known from the branches of a towering cedar, mewling in delight at his encroaching presence, but other than that he was mercifully by himself.

Aëghan Dranora, a faeborn of Dravolese descent, made to run his hand through his hair in a gesture of vexation, only to discover something hard and metallic clamped in his fist. Perplexed, he uncurled his fingers and studied the object now sitting in the middle of his outstretched palm.

A fine, gold chain coiled against his skin like a tiny burnished serpent, and amidst the delicate links sat an intricately cut amethyst stone.

Well, that was simply perfect, he thought dryly. He was already regarded with circumspection by all the residents in Ravensfield, and here he was robbing them to boot. Whoever the necklace belonged to would surely note its disappearance soon enough, and another litany of vulgar curses flew through his mind.

He closed his fingers about the chain and pocketed it quickly, out of sight until he could return it. Instinctually, he balked at the notion, the dragon within him demanding he claim the trinket and stow it with the other items he had been collecting, but he tamped the urge down with a vehemence that seemed to subdue the nature of his beast.

It was a bizarre occurrence that had overtaken his actions subconsciously within the last fortnight- his sudden loss of accountability for a short spell at what he was doing, as if guided by some invisible force that entrapped his will and rendered him unawares. At least, Aëghan mused, he hadn't traipsed far from Ravensfield this time. The previous incidents, he had come to within his own lodgings, deep within a forest and many miles away from the house he needed to be in. It was disconcerting to lose track of one's self, the loss of control of his faculties something that would partially frighten him if Aëghan wasn't completely certain that it was the dragon within him asserting dominance.

Thankfully, the urges to roost and hoard hadn't been noticed by others yet, and up until the necklace sitting in his pocket, the only items now littering his home included various bits of feminine clothing, perfumes and oils, sweets and candies the dragon had pilfered from the larders, a few fanciful books of fairy tales, and other items that would only suit the needs of a female, and were of little value, purchased from various village markets. It was odd that the dragon would resort to theft though according to his inner protests the necklace must be of meaningful import to him.

He had heard speculation from older fae that his kind were prone to adopt the instinctual tendencies of the beasts they preferred to take the form of after a certain time, and Aëghan was quick to realise what had begun to afflict him. He was not too impressed with the reasons why he had begun these pilfering activities, though.

The message the dragon was issuing was blatantly obvious- his roost was being prepared to receive a mate.

Even if he was not actively aware or consciously involved in the preparations.