Uh. Well, that saddle? Sounds kind of sexy for a saddle. I mean, you know, like gulp? Nice exposition with the whole explain to Fred thing. I love Drusilla explaining how Willy is so nice and she sometimes pretends to be insane (ha ha). Interesting that Tara calls Willow sweetie and in front of the others. I wonder what they all think of that. Did she just let it slip? They seem so close. I love it all.

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Menorah Tales | Working It Out | Random Bits

LOL! This is great fun! It reminds me of a truly cracked Japanese Anime called 'Dragon Half' which also rips the piss out of traditional fairytales. I love your sense of humour, it's great to see Angel getting a big ol Dragon Bitchslap! And the dynamic between Dragon-y Willow and Princess Tara is really entertaining. I also found Dru's explaination about the heroes VS the guardians very interesting. It seems Princesses in towers are a booming business in this wacky world! And the backstory about Glory and Buffy was freakin hilarious!

Can't wait to read more and see what the gormless Riley and his scheming man servant Adam with the dodgy accent get up to. You've definately got me hooked!

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A doodle. I do doodle. You, too. You do doodle, too.

Heehee, isn't it like the spiritual traveller going to Tibet or someplace mythical, only to find strees full of souvenir shops and a 7-Eleven? Well, that's a little extreme but I'm giggling at the whole cottage industry that has sprung up that supports the whole princessing / towering industry.

I do like the effortless familiarity that Willow and Tara have developed. Flying together must bring them so much joy, surely they can feel the closeness with Tara lying flat all the way on Willow's back? Anyway, even in front of their friends they have the easy understanding that only couples have.


and

This I like. Very much. The princess is the one holding the power, and it really is up to her to decide. How I wish someone would send a bulletin out to the heroes, so they don't barge in and be all arrogant. Saves them from being humiliated by the guardian. And reference checking!!! There really is a whole support infrastructure behind this. It's nothing short of brilliant.

And am I bad for wanting Dru to notice that Tara was staring at Willow and calling her on it? May be push things along a little?
[br]

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quiet thoughts

Chris:

I have nothing useful in the way of feedback to add, other than that I just LOVE LOVE LOVE this story. Every update, you suprise me more, though at this point I really shouldn't be suprised by your amazing imagination and creativity. But I am nonetheless.

More soonish? With the dragony lovin' and stuff?



-bk

ps- I know this is off-topic here, but since I asked about your lovely ability to write erotic fiction between humans and non-humans, and in your response you mentioned watching Star Trek - have you ever written any B'Elanna Torres/Seven fiction? Cuz I'd be all over that if you did. Just wondering.

Amber: Thanks

Blue: Thank you. Yep, I wanted to show exactly that, Tara, and by extension the other princesses (and all their 'monsters' of course) having a community. As Adam said earlier, they'd go nuts otherwise. I don't know why the idea of Tara and Drusilla as best friends popped up, but once it did it just stuck around. I can imagine them getting on well, assuming (as in this case) Dru's saner than her canon self - they're both artistic, soft-spoken, inclined to observe goings-on rather than get stuck in right away. And each in their own way, they've both got a slightly loopy sense of humour

Belli Bear: Thanks.

Elvis: Thanks. Yep, Tara's redesign of the saddle wouldn't exactly pass muster in a convent. I wanted her and Willow to have something intimate that they could share when Willow's in her full-size dragon form - so that it didn't seem like Tara was just in love with 'human Willow'. Rather, she's in love with Willow - both bodies she occupies - and there's a physical dimension to that love in both forms. But of course smut between a human and a gigantic dragon is kind of tricky, mechanically, so I figured flying together would do.

I don't think 'sweetie' was a slip - I think Tara's fairly open with her affection for Willow, it's just whether that affection is friendly or hot-gay-love-y that's an issue. I can't really think whether it's historical or fictional, but I got the impression from somewhere that at some stage of the princesses-and-castles-and-so-on society it was more normal, and expected for girls/women to express love for each other, as it was seen as chaste love that wasn't related to their naughty bits. Or possibly that's just what the women let the men go on thinking Anyway, I'm figuring something like that is going on here - it wouldn't be thought of as unusual for Tara to be affectionate with her female friends, including physically, hugs and kisses on the cheek and so forth.

Uzu: Thank you. Riley and his scheming manservant are dealt with this very chapter (and there's a reason for the accent - though it's also just fun to write).

watty-boss: Thanks. It's true, the princesses have a lot of power - not all of it, they're still in a system that, on the surface, is set up to favour the guys. It's just that they've worked out a method to rort the system, and have it down to a fine art. I'm sure Willow and Tara enjoy flying together very much - no doubt the reason neither of them quite figure the other's feelings out is that, in flight, they're busy keeping their naughty thoughts in check

badkitty: Thanks. Dragony lovin' will have to wait one more chapter, but only one. I've never written any Voyager fiction - I've read some, primarily the Just Between series, which is Janeway/Seven (but it's also got a very well-developed B'Elanna/Ro Laren subplot - fun fact: due to being a hybrid, B'Elanna has two clits, the lucky girl). I did kind of get into the non-human-physique thing by accident - rather than intending to write a human/dragon fic - but having done so I enjoy the challenge, and the chance to do something different. I've got another couple of ideas for non-standard Willows and/or Taras in upcoming fics...

Title: Princess Tara and the Dragon
Author: Chris Cook
Email: alia@netspace.net.au
Rating: NC-17, eventually
Copyright: Based on characters from Buffy the Vampire Slayer, created by Joss Whedon/Mutant Enemy.



Willow craned her neck, allowing her passenger to simply step from her saddle onto the balcony of her tower, and remained still while Tara undid the straps holding the harness around her neck. It was a manoeuvre they had both done many times, and were practised at - Tara undid the buckles, pulled the straps just loose enough, pulled to either side as Willow tilted her head one way and then the other, getting her broad flight scales through it, then Tara let go, Willow flipped her head back, and caught the heavy leather harness easily in her mouth. Even stripped down as Tara preferred it, the saddle was heavier than that of a horse, and was a bit much for a human to carry around.

"'nk 'oo," Willow said indistinctly, releasing a little puff of pheromone gratitude in lieu of being able to speak properly with her mouth full of saddle. Tara inhaled, smiled, and patted her forehead affectionately, then headed inside. Willow executed a fairly elegant - under the circumstances - series of hops to get to the stores balcony at the back of the tower and deposit the cargo crate she was carrying in one claw, then meandered off towards her cave.

Willow felt slightly guilty, and extremely giddy, for scenting with her princess. Among dragons it was common enough to communicate via pheromones as much as speech, which when all was said and done was still regarded as a 'human thing,' no matter that dragons had been speaking for generation upon generation and no harm done. But even so, it was customarily a sign of intimacy - to allow one's emotions to be converted into chemical form, gently wafted out of the tiny, delicate scent glands in the ridges above the eyes, inhaled by another and turned back into pure emotion. There were even still some dragons who clung to the old ways, and would not share scent with anyone outside their clan, using the simplistic dragon tongue for all others - the notion of speaking 'human' usually appalled them.

Willow had been raised in a more pragmatic fashion - her mother, a bimorphic, was quite at home with human ways, and her father was something of a counter-establishment dragon - one of the leading lights of a circle of draconic poets, who 'wrote' in emotion and recited in scent. Between the two of them, Willow's childhood had been unusually vocal, in speech and scent, and she still retained a tendency to babble, as Tara put it, which most people found unusual in a dragon, traditionally - at least around outsiders - a taciturn race. But even so, when Willow spoke to Tara like that, and saw her inhale and understand... it was more than just a means of communication.

She worried, a little, that Tara didn't fully understand that, but then she told herself that that was giving her too little credit. It was Tara who had first asked Willow about scenting, having read a reference to it in a book - early in their friendship she had read everything she could find about dragons, which made Willow feel absurdly proud, for no reason she could identify, at the time. It was, in fact, just when she was realising that her feelings for Tara went beyond the friendship she hoped for, and the protectiveness that was expected of her, that Tara had asked if she could recite a poem, and in a flight of nervous courage she had agreed.

Willow treasured that night. They had walked together to a small stream, an offshoot of the main waterfall that fed the lake that instead trickled down from rock to rock, and over the centuries had formed a natural little gully of its own. Airflow was, of course, important to scenting poetry, and the form of the cliffs created a slow, constant caress of air, coming down off the highlands above. They had sat opposite one another, Willow with her back to the tiny miniature waterfall, the stream trickling to either side of the boulder they were on. Moonlight shone off Tara's hair, and the understated silver embroidery in her dress, and behind her the whole valley seemed to be laid out like a mosaic in jewellery, smoky diamonds for the valley walls, soft emeralds for the grass and trees, deep sapphires for the lake and sky. Willow recited a poem her father had written, which he had told her described a pale imitation of his feelings when he first saw her mother. Of course she could only reproduce the poem in basic form - the nuance and subtlety, the control of emotion, the ability to not just speak a poem but feel it, was something that took a lifetime to master. But Willow did her best, and as she sat there, silently singing to Tara, watching her with her eyes closed, creating the tempo of the poem with the rhythm of her breathing, she felt that she managed to communicate something of meaning.

The silence between them had somehow become too precious to break, and they had walked back to the tower, and shared a gentle hug goodnight, all without a word spoken.

The next morning Tara had been all praise, and they had spoken about dragon poetry, and scenting in general, at some length. But in spite of how much she has cherished the experience, Willow had never quite mustered the courage to suggest another recital, and in spite of Tara's enthusiasm to learn of the more prosaic scenting speech - though being human, she would never be able to understand anything more specific than general impressions of emotions - she had never asked for another poem. Willow often wondered why. At times, alone, she wondered if Tara had sensed her feelings, and understood them only too well. Willow tried not to get herself down with those kinds of thoughts - she had Tara's friendship, she told herself, and that was enough. She had known before even meeting her that Tara was fated for another - admittedly, 'fated' was a dubious notion, when the two of them were actively conspiring to scuttle any unwanted claims to her hand in marriage, but the crux of the matter was that Tara would, eventually, end her tenure in the tower, and return home with some hero or heroine or other.

'Wish it was 'other',' Willow mused to herself as she navigated the twists and turns in her underground home. She had true night vision - in her current form, at least - but even so she tended to navigate by scent, following the veins of minerals from tunnel to tunnel. She took a breath of the familiar copper-iron-touch-of-zinc scent of her favourite cave, deep underground but with a useful series of air holes that twisted and turned more or less directly to the surface, allowing her to hear the tower bell should Tara need her, and-

'Wait, that doesn't smell right,' she just had time to think, before she suddenly felt like she had been winded, and transformed into her humanoid self.

"What-" she began, almost managing to scramble upright before her saddle fell on top of her.

"Ow! Sonofa..." She heaved it away and tried to change, but couldn't - her body remained steadfastly in its current shape. The surprise of being stuck in her present form was such that she completely forgot about the unfamiliar scent, until an unfamiliar voice sounded behind her, and the cavern was suddenly lit by a flaring torch.

"Avast, beast of the underworld!"

Willow spun around, blinking in the sudden light. There were two people there, slowly approaching - one in metal armour that the light shone off, the other shadowy. There was a drawn-out scrape as the armoured figure drew a sword. Willow frantically tried to change, but frustratingly, like a sneeze that just wouldn't sneeze, she couldn't quite bring about the actual transformation.

"I think, melord," the shadowy figure said in a murmur, "'avast' is fer pirates, not dragons."

"Oh," the knight hesitated. "Well... yield, monster!" The way he flourished his sword wasn't especially impressive, but Willow was panicked, and couldn't take her eyes off it.

"Now just yer relax," the other man said, gesturing with something in his hand - a wand of some kind, Willow saw as her eyes slowly adjusted. "Yer been beat fair 'n' sqware... ain't no point making this 'ere 'eroic gent bloody 'is sword wif yer."

"My vassal speaks true," the 'hero' nodded. "Yield and I will spare your life, unnatural though it is. I have no quarrel with you, and shall allow you to be free, once I have claimed the hand of the beauteous Princess."

"Yer," the servant said absently. "Well spoke, melord, very valiant an' suchlike. An' you," he said to Willow, his voice suddenly growing menacing, "if yer knows what's good for yer, ye'll keep yer mouf shut."

[hr]
Willow watched sullenly as her captor - Adam, the larger, ill-spoken one - stepped back from her, after firmly tying her hands and feet. The other one - 'Sir Riley' as he had proclaimed himself on no less than five occasions, though Willow had mentally renamed him 'the idiot' - had wandered off from the mouth of the cave, where they had dragged her to, and could be heard in the distance, calling hopefully up to Tara's balcony, and evidently getting no reply.

"Just between you and me," Adam said quietly, "I don't think he'll be getting a warm welcome. But he grew up on fairy tales, and doesn't have a clue how the world works. He's probably planning the wedding already." He chuckled at Willow's wide-eyed stare.

"Oh, yes," he nodded. "No need to put on the 'by yer leave, melord' act while he's out of earshot. I know you won't tell him. That is, I know you won't get the chance." Willow wished she hadn't been gagged, so she could at least say something insulting. As it was, she settled for a withering glare. Adam ignored her, and pulled the wand he had used earlier out of his belt.

"Never seen one of these before, I'll wager," he smirked. "Very difficult to come by, this was - cost a good portion of the gold that simpleton gave me to buy provisions for the trip here. Lucky he can't count any better than he can think. Yes, very expensive, it was - and of course, not even a mercenary sorcerer would sell a wand of nullification to a man like me. Nor would a man like me, with my reputation, be allowed to get anywhere near a royal princess, let alone a dragon. But Sir Riley's trusted vassal, that's a different matter, of course. Sir Riley's been very useful indeed."

He stuck the wand back in his belt, and walked back over to Willow, crouching down in front of her.

"I'm sure you're mightily curious," he grinned. "Well, let me tell you a tale. See, there once was a very bad man, who did some very bad things, because people paid him a lot of money to do them. But one day this man, he took a contract that, in hindsight, he shouldn't have taken - it turned out that the man whose throat he cut had some very powerful, very nasty friends, and the man who'd give our hero his job, well, he faded away and left our hero to fend for himself. So our hero finds himself in a bit of a spot. He needs an advantage. And that, my pretty young thing, is where you come in."

He reached out and ran a fingertip up Willow's thigh; she jerked away from him and glared daggers into his eyes.

"Heh," he chuckled to himself. "Don't worry, it's not that I've got in mind. Don't get me wrong, I could make a pretty penny selling you to the right people - but not enough to pay off the enemies I've made. And in any case, I've never been the kind to solve my problems with bribery, when good, inexpensive violence will do the trick. But as I said, these enemies of mine, they're very powerful people. So I'm going to need some very powerful violence to make them see reason and leave me alone. The kind a dragon could provide - but dragons are in high demand, so again the money problem rears its ugly head, and as for coercion, well, you don't try that with a dragon longer than you have to."

He drew a thin dagger from a sheath strapped to his boot.

"I intend to take a more direct approach," he smiled. "I'm full of little-known facts, you see - I'm a good listener, and I meet some very interesting people, who're usually very eager to tell me very interesting things in the hope that I won't slit their weasand for them. One of these little-known facts is that a human can become a dragon, just like you do. It's a very simple process, and all that's required is a supply of blood from a bimorphic dragon such as yourself. Quite a lot of blood, I'm afraid. But if it's any consolation, I understand that expiring of blood loss is quite peaceful. Certainly compared to some of the other tricks I've got up my sleeve."

"Get away from her!"

Adam spun around, and Willow's heart leapt into her throat. Tara was standing in the cave mouth, fists clenched, glaring furiously. Off in the distance Sir Riley was still addressing the now-empty tower.

'Run!' Willow stared imploringly at Tara. 'For the love of all that's good, run away and don't let him anywhere near you!'

"Well, isn't this sweet," Adam laughed. "The little princess standing up for her 'jailer'. Got used to her, have you? Or," he chuckled lewdly, "have you been enjoying a bit of dragon snatch while you've been all alone up here?" Tara reddened, and held up her fists in a fairly ineffectual-looking approximation of a boxing stance.

"I don't want to fight you!" she warned, her voice trembling.

"How right you are," Adam grinned, advancing on her as Willow desperately shook her head and struggled with her bonds. To her horror and dismay Tara launched the world's worst right hook, which Adam easily caught in his palm. He pushed Tara back and half-turned back to Willow - and Tara, whirling around from the momentum of his push, slammed her left fist into his jaw, followed it up with a right into his stomach, and a simultaneous chop to the back of his neck and a knee to his groin. He collapsed in a surprised and painful ball, stunned long enough for Tara to pull the wand from his belt. She quickly snapped it in half against the ground, then moved to where Willow was watching, almost as stunned as Adam had looked.

"Whu?" she asked, once Tara had pulled the cloth from around her face and removed her gag.

"Faith's boxing workouts included 'dirty fighting'," Tara grinned. She produced a pocket knife from beneath the folds of her dress and quickly cut Willow's bonds. Willow rubbed her wrists, then heard Tara let out a heavy sigh. She looked up to see Tara staring intently at her, suddenly seeming much more fragile than the spirited young woman who had knocked out a criminal twice her size.

"Are you alright?" Willow asked, getting to her feet a little unsteadily. Tara gave a quick grin, nodded, then shook her head as if trying to dislodge a troublesome thought.

"A-are you alright?" she asked quietly. Willow smiled hesitantly and nodded; Tara's smile broadened in reply, then all at once she had enveloped Willow in a fierce hug they almost knocked the wind out of her.

"I... I was so afraid," the princess whispered. Willow automatically held her in return, stroking her hair, and was about to reply when she felt Tara's lips against the thin scales on the side of her neck.

"What on earth is going on here?" came a voice from outside. Willow and Tara jumped apart and looked back to see Sir Riley, finally having tired of proclaiming his love for an empty tower, staring in disbelief at Adam's prone form.

Willow glanced at Tara, who took a step back, and an instant later the cave mouth was very crowded with several stories of irate dragon.

"Uh," Riley said. "Um... Adam?"

"Let's you and me have a talk," Willow rumbled, "about your immediate future."

As it turned out, Sir Riley's immediate future included a very hasty retreat.

[hr]

_________________
Chris Cook

Through the Looking-glass - Every world needs a Willow and Tara.

Dibs!

Yay! Oh, such a nice update. What are they going to do to Adam? Haha. Stupid Riley. The descriptions of Willow's poetry recital and how she feels about Tara were very touching.

More please!

Oh Chris, that was lovely.

I have to apologise - somehow I missed leaving feedback for the previous update. I loved the idea of this thriving community based on the tower economy, and the girls calling the shots with the connivance of their guardians. It all makes so much sense - you have removed a lingering worry from my childhood reading that their families didn't really love the princesses very much, if they could shut them away in a tower like that.

Each little scene you give us of W&T together builds a lovely picture. I especially loved the image of the scent poetry and the 'recital'. I wonder if dragon pheromones are ... less subtle ... than human? I'm thinking that Tara must have iron self-control.

Go, Tara, with the left hook and the dirty fighting! So glad that Adam and Riley got their come-uppance (although I wait with interest to see what they do with Adam) and I'm hoping that this provides the impetus for them to declare their feelings for each other.

Loving it, Chris.
Thanks
Anne

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Spells for Two

Every path has its puddle. Old English Saying... I think I just stepped in mine...

CHRIS! still loving this story! i want more!

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Vale
-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-

"When you get excited about something, one might imagine you as a small, maniacally grinning rubber ball, which someone throws at the wall in an enclosed room, and goes bouncing off every surface for about 15 minutes." - Mudrat

wootwoot.

Really enjoyed this Chris, hope you keep up with it.

Regards,

Boschi

As a self-professed DnD fan, I quite enjoy my dragons to be like the 'old style conservatives' you've described here. You know the kind of dragon: arrogant, greedy, prideful, huge superiority complex and, in case of the ever popular red dragon evil to the core, stupendously huge and possessing an attitude that can be best be described as 'look at me funny and I'll burn your ass off'.

Needless to say, dragon Willow might not be as impressive as the DnD red dragon in the picture, but she is much cuter. Of course, she's only surpassed in cuteness by our lovely princess Tara (especially when she punched that bloke's lights out. ). Loved the bit about the poetry and the scenting. Dragons have more of a culture in your story, rather than being the embittered lair-living giant lizards that they are in Dnd.

Heh, Riley does make a good paladin, though, being as stupid and naive as he is. Does Willow have a hoard, btw? Just curious.

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Max : Do you mind if I drive?
Sam : Not if you mind me clawing at the dashboard and shrieking like a cheerleader.

Chris, what a fantastic update. Of course Adam was up to something but Riley as comic relief is such a joy. An idiot of course, but a joy, shouting up to an empty tower.

So we have the question answered of Willow's feelings toward Tara. And the scenting. Very interesting addition. It's all very sensual I have to say, the way they interact.

Adam was going to bleed Willow and take her blood but how? Did he have a set of needles and tubes? I mean he could get the blood out of her but how would he get it in him? It's not like you can just drink blood and get it in your stomach (maybe vampires can) and have it pass into your blood stream, can you?

Tara seriously kicked ass! Way to go, Tara.

Well done.

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Menorah Tales | Working It Out | Random Bits

What a terrific short story. I'm beginning to move it from 'short' to 'long' in the Competion Ratio spreadsheet. What I took away from this update was of course the extent of Willow's feelings for Tara. Lovely interlude with the quietness of the scenting and the poem, these are the dragons I'd like to know in our universe.

I can't help but feel that Willow is being slightly defeatist here. After all, they seem to be changing all the rules about Princesses, Heroes and Dragons in this story, so why not take a step themselves and change it so that dragon-protectors and princesses can get together?

Adam was wily, Riley a total doofus. But wow. Tara seriously kicked Adam-butt here.

Kisses and gay-human-dragon lovin' next, right?
[br]

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quiet thoughts

Hehehe...it probably also includes changing his armor.

Oh Chris, this story is so frickin' awesome. I love the bumbling would-be heroes. The image of Riley shouting up to an empty tower--and in my mind, completely not noticing that PrincessAction!Tara is rappelling down the tower on the other side--is just too perfect. And hurrah for Tara knocking out Adam of the Nefarious Plan quicker than you can say "you punch like a girl." Interesting bit of information there, though, about how a human can turn into a dragon. I wonder if that's the only way, or if there's a less-blood-draining-more-sexy-frolicking-with-dragon-hottie manner. That would certainly get Tara out of the whole 'waiting for rescue, marriage to follow' clause, methinks.

The description of the scenting, and Willow's poetry reading was very vivid and moving. I'm betting that neither has asked for/offered another poem is because they both know it's significance, and have been too hesitant as yet to reveal their true feelings. Now that the damsel has saved the dragon from the hero, however, I think it's safe to say that things are fixing to change. *sigh* What a wonderful fairy tale.

-Cam

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This bit from Tarawhipped is just perfect to describe Chris' delightfully amusing tale:

:laugh


Wonderful story, Chris. Thanks for sharing.

Safuega

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In darkness there can be light
In misery there can be beauty
In death there can be life -El laberinto del fauno-

Amber: Thank you. Adam will be dealt with, by Willow's people - like princesses in towers, there's rules for how a hero fights a dragon, and Adam broke them (technically so did Riley, but only because he's an idiot). Unfair dragon-fighting is frowned upon by both dragons and humans, the former obviously because they don't want to be killed, the latter because they don't want to annoy a species that can wipe out a city solo.

Anne: Thanks. I can't speak for traditional fairy tales, but in this case yes, the whole tower thing is worked out quite nicely for all concerned (even the heroes - after all, no-one actually kills them, despite all their idiotic challenging of creatures that could vaporise them with a single breath). Willow's pheromones aren't really geared towards humans, so any self-control issues Tara might have will be resulting purely from the fact that, well, it's Willow.

Vale: Thanks, the final chapter is finally ready.

Boschi: Thank you

U_O: Thanks. I imagine there are old grumpy hard-liner dragons around, complaining about how kids these days are talking to humans without eating them and not even bothering to burn any villages they find, but overall I think dragon and human have worked out a system that keeps them both happy - no-one lays waste to human cities, and no-one raises armies to hunt down dragons. I think Willow's too young to have a hoard yet - I think they're probably an old-dragon thing too, a kind of status symbol that no-one really uses anymore, like executive fountain pens.

Elvis: Thank you. Adam's plan was simply to drink Willow's blood - it's a magic thing, rather than a proper transfusion. I'm nto 100% sure it would have worked, but Adam believed it would - mind you, with various nefarious people after him, he had a fairly strong motive to tell himself his plan would work. Not that that's a problem he'll have any more - I'm not sure what the dragons will do with him, but I doubt common criminals will be among his concerns.

watty-boss: Thanks. I'm still counting this as a short story, only five chapters after all, and most of them below the length I tend to work with (though this last one went on a bit). Willow is maybe a little defeatist, telling herself that Tara's inevitably going to go off with some hero, but then again, when it comes to breaking the rules, who really thinks it'll be them until they actually do it?

Cam: Thank you. I'm not sure if there are other ways of turning into a dragon (or even if it's possible to begin with), but as it happens, that's not going to be an issue (after all, then it wouldn't be hot-gay-human-dragon-love, as everyone's been demanding ). Thanks for that 'damsel saved the hero from the dragon' line, that's perfect.

Safuega: Thanks

Well folks, here it is, the last chapter. But as it happens, not the very last we'll see of this incarnation of Willow and Tara

Title: Princess Tara and the Dragon
Author: Chris Cook
Email: alia@netspace.net.au
Rating: NC-17, eventually (now, in fact)
Copyright: Based on characters from Buffy the Vampire Slayer, created by Joss Whedon/Mutant Enemy.

Note: This chapter contains hot gay human-dragon love. I don't know why I bother making that a warning, what with all the clamouring for it, but anyway... I hope you all like it, and thanks for reading.



Tara saw a shadow streak across her valley, cast far ahead of its owner by the setting sun. She looked up as Willow glided overhead, waved as she saw the dragon's head tilt downwards, then watched as she swept her wings forward, gathering the air before her and slipping out of the sky, landing easily by the shore of the lake. Tara waited as she walked towards her - footsteps making the ground tremble softly - and took a few paces to meet her as she folded into her human-sized form.

"What are you doing out here?" Willow asked, glancing around the small gully, with its stream leading into the lake. The tower was some distance away, casting its slim shadow along the valley.

"You brought me here once," Tara replied. "Remember?"

"Of course," Willow nodded, her voice quiet.

"I-I thought- That is, I wanted to talk," Tara said. "With you," she added. "Well, obviously."

"Yeah," Willow joined her in chuckling, sharing her nervousness.

"Um, is Adam...?" Tara asked after an awkward pause.

"I sent a fairy from town," Willow said quickly. "The sheriff is keeping him locked up until my people arrive for him. It should only be a day or two - they're pretty strict about anyone trying to harm a dragon without adhering to the traditions. You know, proper challenge, that kind of thing."

"Good," Tara nodded. "Willow, I..." She trailed off, then abruptly laughed. "I had this all planned, what I was going to say. I promised myself I'd go through with it."

"Go through with what?" Willow wondered. "What's... You're not, leaving? Are you?" Her face twisted in dismay. "Not with Riley?!?"

"God no!" Tara exclaimed, the giggles taking firm hold of her at the thought. "No, never in a million years. No."

"Then...?" Willow asked.

"I wanted to... that is," Tara hesitated again. "Oh, forget the speech. Willow, I..." She took Willow by the shoulders, staring into her eyes, and lost her voice. When it returned, it was soft, and straight from the heart. "I love you."

Willow blinked, once, twice, then said: "...wuh?"

"I. Love. You," Tara repeated, hitting each word clearly. "I have since, oh god, it feels like forever, and I have no idea if you feel anything like- That is, I'm sure we're friends, and I think, I hope, you feel more, but I'm not sure, but I am sure that the years I've spent here with you have been the best time of my life, and..." she paused to take a breath, "...and I can't go on like that without breathing like you can, apparently."

"Um... it's for flying at altitude," Willow said, bemusedly. "Lung capacity, you know..."

"That explains it," Tara smiled, her gaze fixed on Willow.

"You just... said you love me, right?" Willow asked.

"I did," Tara replied.

"I..." Willow began, then faltered. Tara frowned as Willow looked away from her, her expression distressed. "Even though...?"

"Willow?" she asked.

"I'm not human," Willow said in a tiny voice. Tara shook her head, and took Willow's shoulders, giving the dragon no choice but to meet her gaze.

"I don't care at all what you're not," she said firmly. "You are the woman I love, and I have for the longest time, and when I realised what was happening today, I thought how stupid I've been not to say so all this time..."

"I..." Willow whispered. "I guess... that makes two of us?"

"Two of us?" Tara echoed.

"Because, all the times I've wanted to tell you, and didn't because I was worried that... You know what, that forgetting the speech thing you did was great, so I'm going to do it too, and I love you. As well. Also. And... can we sit down?"

"Yes," Tara laughed softly, guiding Willow to a smooth rock and sitting beside her, holding her hands. They gazed at each other for a long while, mutually shell-shocked, confused, and gloriously hopeful.

"This is real?" Willow said at last.

"It's real for me," Tara nodded. "If it is for you too, then I guess it's as real as real can be."

"It is," Willow grinned suddenly. "Real, me too, I mean, and... yeah. There's no... I mean, you're a princess, and I'm a dragon-"

"Don't care," Tara said quickly. "I love you and I want you just as you are."

"I, uh," Willow smiled bashfully, "I meant, with you being a princess, and expected to marry some hero, rather than- not that I'm saying marry right now!" she suddenly interrupted herself. "Because hello, moving way too fast, and... not that I wouldn't, but... you know... you know?" Tara shook her head, more in amusement, and leaned forward to gather Willow in her arms and hold her.

"I checked," she whispered. "You meet all the qualifications."

"Qualifiwhatsies?"

"You crossed the desert, the swamp, the forest, and the mountains to get here. I remember you saying so."

"Well true," Willow admitted. "I flew over them, though..."

"There's nothing in the rules about how you cross," Tara said lightly. "And you've defeated any number of enemies in personal combat in order to save me from them. And we've known each other so long, and shared so much, which is more than any so-called hero could say."

"You saved me too," Willow pointed out. Tara nodded, and let go of Willow, only to sit very close to her, holding her hands. She stared down at them, gently stroking her fingers over them, tracing the patterns in the fine scales covering them.

"You... really, don't mind?" Willow asked, with a little shrug.

"That you're a dragon?" Tara asked. She shook her head, then brought one of Willow's palms to her face, closing her eyes as Willow moved the last fraction of an inch, touching her cheek. Her lips opened in a tiny sigh, and she tilted her head just enough to be able to kiss the edge of Willow's palm.

"I love you," she whispered. "Everything about you. I love that you're a dragon." She opened her eyes and gave Willow a look, without taking her hand from her face. "You don't mind that I'm not a dragon?"

"You're my idea of perfect," Willow replied at once. "I've... you're so soft, and... from the first time I held your hand, I couldn't imagine anything else. A-and I imagined... heh... um, awkward revelation, I'm not sure I'd have started that sentence if I'd thought it through..."

"What?" Tara asked.

"Well... you know the, uh, the part of the library in the tower, with the... um, hidden behind those big atlases, and-" Tara blushed.

"Oh yes," she said, ducking slightly and grinning. "I've read those a lot. I, uh... my turn to be bashful," she chuckled. "I'd read them, and think... of you."

"Me too," Willow nodded, shy and smiling. "I read ‘To Touch Her' over and over, when I first found it. I'd... that was the first time I, you know... read what a human was like... all over..." Tara's eyes widened, then she laughed softly.

"I guess I had an advantage," she said. "You're so open with yourself, I... I never had to try to imagine what you looked like."

"You... looked?" Willow asked. "I don't mean... I don't mind. I... I uh, I hoped sometimes you would, you know? It felt good."

"I tried not to be too obvious," Tara nodded. "I didn't want you to feel uncomfortable, and it's natural to you, I didn't want you to feel you couldn't..." Her voice trailed off, and she let go of Willow's hands, looking down at herself.

"What?" Willow asked.

"Fair's fair," Tara said abruptly, taking a quick, deep breath as if steeling herself. She reached to her shoulders and swiftly pulled the shoulders of her dress untied. Willow gasped, still as a statue, as Tara reached behind herself to pull the laces from her back, and let the dress fall around her waist.

"Would you?" she asked, lifting her leg up to Willow. Wordlessly the dragon took hold of the hem of her dress and pulled it down, as Tara lifted her hips from the smooth rock, and her eyes followed the bundle of fabric down her legs to the ground.

"Well," Tara said, her voice unsteady, but quietly elated. "Now we're even."

Willow's gaze was still on Tara's feet, resting just beside her. She looked up her legs, very slowly, over her thighs where Tara's hands rested, up her body, her gaze sliding as smoothly as the last rays of sunlight casting their warm glow over Tara's form.

"I..." she said. "I... That... that book wasn't even close," she murmured. Tara chuckled - Willow's breath caught in her throat as Tara's breasts shuddered.

"I-I liked ‘In Between'," Tara said, finding her voice with only a little effort.

"Yes," Willow nodded.

"'She touched me,'" Tara quoted from memory, "'and I knew then what it was to be the mortal form given life by god.'"

"'And when she entered me, I knew what it was to be a god,'" Willow completed the line. She looked up, into Tara's eyes.

"I-I don't know what to do," she admitted. Tara smiled.

"Well, we're here," she said, glancing around the secluded gully. "Would you... sing to me?"

Willow blinked in surprise.

"Really?"

"Please," Tara nodded. "When you did, that time, I was so... I can't think of words for it." She chuckled. "Of course, there weren't words, maybe that's why. I wanted to ask you again but, it felt... I felt like I'd have been asking for something more than I deserved, unless I told you why I really wanted to experience it again. You know?"

"I know," Willow smiled. "Alright... well, uh... let's..." She trailed off, the nodded to herself, and took a deep, slow breath. "Is it alright if I... look at you...?"

"For inspiration?" Tara grinned, and Willow shared her grin and nodded. "I'd like that," Tara said softly.

The two sat very close together, cross-legged on the smooth stone, with their knees almost touching. On an impulse Tara reached out both hands, and Willow took them and held them as she relaxed into the almost-trance where her feelings became scents that the gentle breeze carried over Tara, who inhaled slowly and filled her lungs with Willow's love for her.

"Ahhh," she whispered, exhaling. Feeling emboldened by Willow's gaze on her, she in turn gave herself free rein to stare at Willow, drinking in the sight of her in a way she had never truly allowed herself before. She absorbed every inch of her face - her deeply liquid eyes, lidded and shameless, moving slowly from side to side, up and down, all over Tara in turn. Her fine features, the soft angles of her face accentuated by the patterns of scales covering her skin, so thin and delicate as to be almost smooth around her eyes and lips, spreading in symmetrical spiral patterns across her cheeks, over her chin and down her neck. Standing out in sharp contrast, her flight scales, spreading from her brows out and back over her ears and curving up away from her scalp - like a crown, and behind it the ridges of scales that covered the top of her head and spread down the back of her neck, closed and rigid when she was tense, now fanning out and moving with her heartbeat as she relaxed.

Her poetry was thick in the air, and Tara let her awareness of it wander, not seeking specific meanings but simply letting them come to her as they would. There were clear scents, like morning dew on a fresh lawn or water from a mountain lake so still and pristine it seemed like glass, transparent right to its bed. Warm scents like sunlight, flowers spreading their petals, butterflies opening their wings and basking lazily. Luxurious nectar that took Tara to a place where she and Willow lay naked together, surrounded by nature, free of care for who might see. Flavours and spices that quickened her heart, and the tempo of the poem seemed to creep up as Tara's breathing came faster. If she hadn't known, from their discussion prior to the one previous occasion they had shared such an experience, that Willow's pheromones weren't able to affect her the way they would a dragon, she would have sworn she was becoming physically drugged by them. As it was, by her feelings alone, Tara imagined herself intoxicated, and surrendered without hesitation.

She let herself stare. Willow's slender form, light for flight - Tara knew she could, with some effort, lift Willow with both hands on her waist - yet strong, firmly muscled beneath the appearance of sleekness. The layered solid scale plates on her shoulders and back becoming again finer as they reached down to her chest, and around her sides, perfectly smooth across her breasts, firm and high, without nipples, or any variation in colour. And down her stomach, flat and smooth, spreading to thicker scales on either side, encompassing her hips, but fading to long, thin patterns between her thighs, a prominent mound, but again featureless, and Tara had often wondered what secrets were beneath those fine scales.

Willow was drawing her in - as Tara quickened the pace of her breathing so Willow's song hastened, the suggested pleasures in her scent coming faster and faster atop one another. Tara's lips parted as she leaned forward, her eyes travelling from Willow's firm thighs up her body to her face, and as her mouth opened and she drew so close to Willow she began to taste her song. Her eyes traced the fine scales around Willow's eyes, found the seam where they made way for the bold flight scales on her brows, and the tiny vents there, dark and secretive, where her scent was emerging. Willow's breath wafted on her chest, she hadn't realised she had moved so very close - in her mind she imagined kissing her, but her body draw her to the alluring, exotic perfume in the air, and as she felt Willow's hands touch her waist, half steadying her half urging her closer, she craned her neck and pressed her lips lightly to Willow's scaled eyebrows, kissing one and then the other as the flavour of her poetry exploded in her mouth.

"Uh... ohhh-hhh," she gasped, suddenly gripped by a need for Willow, stronger than anything she had imagined. Her whole body felt tense, tight, as if the need inside her was drawing her muscles and skin tight around her, and only by filling herself with Willow would she ever breathe again. Willow's fingertips dug into her soft hips, gripping her hard, painless but urging her most strongly, leaving no doubt what she wanted. She gave a little needful sound from the back of her throat as Tara nodded once, quickly, then closed her eyes as Tara's lips touched her scent pores once more, and this time began to steadily suckle on her love.

"Mmmm... uhhhh, ohhmmm..." Willow sighed, moaned, arched her back, pressed herself to Tara as if trying to become one with her. She slipped slightly on the smooth stone, caught her weight, felt Tara ease her sideways, and with a little awkwardness, but no inclination to care whatsoever, they lowered themselves to the soft grass. Tara's lips never left Willow, merely moved from side to side, neglecting nothing, accepting every scent and taste Willow gave to her.

"Uh-hhh-ohhh!" the dragon gasped, tightening, shocked at how quickly she was reaching a peak. Her hands crushed into the grass, fingers digging into the soil, as if she needed to anchor herself to the earth to keep from flying away. Her legs wrapped around Tara's bare waist, tightly, pushing her mound firm against Tara's stomach. Tara pressed on, swimming in Willow, feeling not just smoothness on her skin but slickness, moisture, something unknown to her.

"Ohh gods," Willow gasped, realising, "I'm opening... Tara... you're opening me..."

Tara drew back, glanced down between their bodies, but the fading light wasn't enough for her to see a thing. She felt instead, against her stomach, Willow's mound, smooth and scaled, but now split by a seam, and a yielding softness within. Willow sought out her lips, licked them, kissed Tara deeply, then thrust herself once more against her body, becoming limp and trembling, submitting gladly as Tara kissed her in return, explored her, tasted her and in turn spread her own scent from her lips and tongue back to Willow, letting her sample herself.

"Tara," Willow whispered quickly as their lips parted, "Tara please... I... I need..."

"Yes," Tara whispered back, kissing from her lips down her jawline to murmur in her ear, "yes Willow, anything..."

"I-inside," Willow breathed, her voice so soft Tara barely caught it. She heard something, an undercurrent - nervous, perhaps quietly fearful - and in a flash she understood what it meant, for a being like Willow, coated in armour, to be open, vulnerable, suddenly vulnerable in a way a human never could be.

"You're sure?" she whispered, hoping Willow could hear in her voice how she would never hurt her.

"Y... yes," Willow panted. "I... Gently?"

Tara pressed a kiss to the side of her neck, enjoying the texture of scales beneath her lips.

"My love," she breathed. She felt something spread inside Willow, a relaxation of a tension that had been building.

"I want you there," Willow whispered, without any hesitation.

Tara moved down Willow's body, kissing and tasting as she went, sampling all the scale-patterns she had so long stared at, surreptitiously, and imagined. At last between Willow's thighs, she settled and breathed in Willow's inner scent - very much like that of the heated poetry she had spoken, but somehow more raw, primal. By the faint glimmers of fading sunset and rising moonlight she saw Willow had indeed opened, a seam formed from the scales covering her mound had parted and revealed soft, swollen flesh within. Tara could barely wait, and so she forced herself to linger, perversely prolonging the moment, teasing herself as well as Willow. She could hear her lover's heavy breathing, whispered devotions, the sighs and whimpers as she felt Tara's breath on her.

How rarely does this part of her feel? she wondered in the back of her mind. Hidden away beneath Willow's natural armour, her inner body was fresh and virgin - there was little light to see, but Tara believed she sensed even the minute pressure of her slow exhalations reflected in slight movements of Willow's pure flesh. She wondered if she dared touch her there, but Willow's murmured entreaties gave her courage.

As gently as the moonlight touched her skin, Tara let her head lean forward, her hair spilling over Willow's thighs, and her tongue felt the smooth ridges of scales on either side of the divide, and then... then softness, billowing like a cloud, yielding as a breeze, delicate and fragile as a rainbow painted on the sky. Willow made a sound of joy that seemed to well up from deeper inside her than anything else, her body seizing control of her vocal chords and making itself heard. Tara drew her tongue slowly up, tasting Willow's essence, kin to her scent but at the same time unlike anything she had ever experienced - powerful and soothing at once, like hottest spice wrapped in cool water.

Three more licks was all it took. The first had Willow breathless, her feet planted wide, hips thrust up off the ground. The second made her tremble like a reflection in the surface of a wind-blown lake, and Tara could absolutely taste her body coiling, ready to release. The third opened her fully, her slit yawning, her tender flesh swelling, distending to reveal a muscled opening, from which Tara drank pure Willow, and that taste defied words.

Tara breathed heavily, gasping. Willow was beneath her - her mound closed, her body limp, stirring only slightly as she breathed, utterly sated yet unable to quite be still, as if simply Tara's presence made her move, writhe, to express her pleasure.

"Willow," Tara murmured, sliding up her length. She felt Willow's scales slightly rougher than usual, recognised the signs of exertion - like sweating, her scales were flexing to allow a little air to weave between them, cooling her. Tara found herself stroking Willow's crown scales, like running her fingers through her lover's hair.

"Tara," Willow whispered, opening her eyes. She hesitated, on the verge of speaking, then Tara shook her head, feeling her lips quirk into the half-grin she knew pleased Willow - though only now realising just how much - and she kissed her, giving her her own perfect flavour.

"Th-that was... oh, gods..." the dragon breathed. "I mean... I had no idea... it would feel that good."

"Good," Tara sighed. "I was hoping... it's not like there's any books in the library about how to please a dragon, so I wasn't sure-"

"You ought to write one," Willow chuckled softly. "Gods, I feel too small to feel this good."

"You can always get bigger," Tara grinned. "It's not like you don't have the option."

"You... wouldn't mind?" Willow asked.

"I love you, Willow," Tara said, her voice light, but impressing its meaning on Willow just the same. "To tell the truth, it's never been more one form than the other. When we fly, and... and just when you're full-sized, you're so... I want to say magnificent, but that's hardly good enough."

"But you... I mean, if I'm all big and-"

"I can wait," Tara smiled. "In fact, no - I'm not waiting, I'm with you, and there's nothing more I want."

"Alright," Willow nodded, and Tara knew by her voice how loved she felt at that moment. "Mind you, later on-"

"Absolutely," Tara smirked. Willow rolled over onto her hands and knees, leaned across to give Tara a lingering kiss, then half-straightened and arched her back, baring herself to the night. Tara sat back on her haunches as Willow grew, smiling a devoted smile as her lover stretched into the sky, towering over her.

"Beautiful," she said to herself, as Willow reached her full height. The dragon breathed in the night air, then curled down, bringing her face level with Tara, her chin brushing against the grass.

"You know, I see the world differently like this," she said, her voice deep and resonant, filled with feelings Tara realised she had never quite suppressed. "You fill my world - both of them."

Tara nodded and took a step forward, pressing herself to Willow's elongated face, resting her head contentedly against her.

"You are my world," she whispered. Willow murmured wordlessly, and brought a wing down by her side, as she did when allowing Tara to mount her for riding, and Tara gladly let herself be lifted atop Willow, who curled herself tightly in the gully, feeling the reassuring texture of the stone against her back. Tara lay flat against her, straddling her neck, her warm, naked body feeling every pulse of her lover's giant heart. She was already slipping into a sated, contented sleep when Willow gently laid her wing over herself, covering Tara with the thin edge of it like a blanket to keep her warm against the night, and soon woman and dragon slumbered together, flying as one in their dreams.

...and they lived happily ever after.

[hr]

_________________
Chris Cook

Through the Looking-glass - Every world needs a Willow and Tara.

Woohoo! What a great ending. Somehow it wasn't quite what I thought I should expect, but it is altogether satisfying. (And I don't even mean that in a pervy way.) And there's going to be a sequel? Woohoo! *internally does a happy dance*

Good God, where do you get these ideas?!

Unbelievable! That was... I have no words. It was at once weird, romantic and intense. And funny too. Like no other fairy tale I've ever read. A love story between a princess and her dragon. Unexpected, but lovely. Somehow this story reminds me of Shrek.

That scenting thing, that was powerful, beautiful. The bureaucracy of fairy tales was hilarious, the loopholes in the rules, the princesses... It'd be interesting to know the reaction to Willow and Tara's love. Will that be on the sequel?

By the way, is there any way you could make a drawing of what Willow looks like in human form? You described it, but I just can't see it in my mind.

I can't wait for the sequel, I hope you post it very soon.

I've always wanted to be one of those crazy people who write something like:

"You total sicko. Where do you think of sick ideas like this? I was grossed out all eleven times I read it."

Ha ha. But alas. Who would I be to call someone sick?

Chris - that was just absolutely breathlessly amazingly beautiful and sensual. I love that it wasn't a "traditional" sex scene but was so sexy. So well done.

_________________
Menorah Tales | Working It Out | Random Bits

Sighhhhh..

So sweet.

Anne
Oooo, a sequel?

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Spells for Two

Every path has its puddle. Old English Saying... I think I just stepped in mine...

Chris, that was lovely...so sweet and romantic...and okay, a little weird (no nipples? but I like--okay, not the point)...but you have a way with taking the most imaginative, fantastic world and making it vividly real. Truly a gift, my friend. I was a little disappointed when you said this was the final chapter, but the fact that you're teasing for a sequel makes it all better. Thanks for another wonderful tale.

-Cam

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*snigger* I read it, thought, "hmm" and then the mentions of no nipples and

whereupon I thought, "ewww" and then I got to the end and it was like "No sicko no ewww-y. I gotta read it again, it was hott."

Oh, I like the sneaking round and reading 'forbidden' library books and the singing and Tara saying

How sweet.

And of course my mind went to a totally inappropriate place at

Ahem.




Now I'm willing to bet that most countries' constitution may contain a clause that ensures their rulers are of sound mind and body. I'll be very interested to see if they specifically say the ruler, or consort must be human. I bet the Earth constitutions don't say that, and what a loophole to exploit. Heehee.
[br]

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quiet thoughts

Hey, I own two executive fountain pens, mister! Well, they belonged to my grandfather, but that's another point entirely.

I'm glad I found this story, though. It's only now that I realize how much I've been indoctrinated by the Dungeons and Dragons versions of dragons. I can't read Dragonriders of Pern without cringing, for example. But I found myself enjoying your portrayal of dragons too.

When I saw this was following the road of physical and loving intimicy, I was kinda worried at first. There's this horrible book out there called 'Touched by Venom'. It is AWFUL. And I don't use all-caps lightly. It's not even unintentionally funny like Eye of Argon. Let's just say that it involves, amongst other things, (embarrassingly badly written)dragon to woman oral sex and the forced circumcision of women presented as a sexually arousing experience. But I trust you a lot more than I do Janine Cross (IE, the writer of that awful book), and I kept reading. I'm glad I did, because I was more than pleasantly surprised. What you've written is a little strange, but it was sweet, sensitive, romantic and above all else, believable. Seriously well done!

And Willow was so Willow, down to the tiny voice and the mannerisms... and don't worry. I'm that one day, Willow'll be a 1200+ Great Wyrm with a huge hoard... and often complaining that the youngsters flap their wings too loudly when they zip past her lair.

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Max : Do you mind if I drive?
Sam : Not if you mind me clawing at the dashboard and shrieking like a cheerleader.

Replies for the final part of Princess Tara and the Dragon, and then a new fluffy little story I came up with today.

Amber: Thanks Yep, there'll certainly be a sequel, as soon as I get around to it. I admit, I wasn't really sure how the ending would play out either - I had the vague idea, but nothing concrete, so I was just discovering it as I wrote.

songbird: Thank you. The idea of Willow (and dragons in general) having a scent-based language was actually something that occurred to me after I'd started writing. The organisation behind princesses and towers was my original plan for the story, though - there will be some of the reaction to Willow and Tara in the sequel (which happens later on), but for now I think it's fair to say that not many people raise objections to a marriage when one of the happy couple is capable of turning into a flying armoured flamethrower. I've got a vague idea what Willow looks like, and I actually meant to do a drawing as you suggested a lot sooner, but it's tricky to work out in detail - her face is a different shape, and I'm still working on having it be a 'dragon face', but be recognisable Willow at the same time. I'll let you know if and when I manage it.

Elvis: Thanks Yep, I was wondering if there'd be any reactions like that - it's nice that it was in jest I wasn't really sure what I'd do for the sex scene, but I went into it with the idea to make it different to what it'd be if they were both human - otherwise, it'd feel like a missed opportunity.

Anne: Thanks. Yep, sequel for sure, soon I hope.

Cam: Thank you. I was wondering if the no nipples thing would seem odd - I remember wondering back when I was writing TARA whether anyone would protest that I'd rendered Tara nipple-less, in her computer program form at any rate, so I suppose this evens the score. In this case, I figured Willow's not a mammal, so no nipples - she's 'part human' of course, in the sense that she's a hybrid, but I wanted her to have some defined 'reptile' qualities to set her apart from just a human with scales. Aside from the turning into a huge dragon bit. I'm sure she has her fair share of erogonous zones regardless

watty: Thanks. You're right, there's probably no actual law against a ruler being a dragon - and people wouldn't be inclined to disrupt the wedding, given what a pissed-off dragon could conceivably do to a city. That opening thing was another effort to give Willow a kind of non-human aspect - and I figured, for a species that's literally armoured, it'd be really intimate for them to let someone touch them in their naughty bits.

U_O: Thank you. That does indeed sound like a bizarrely awful novel, I'm glad I avoided ending up in the same category. I'm glad it all worked out - I knew it'd be weird, but I was aiming at weird-but-sweet. And no hard feelings about the fountain pens? I like fountain pens, as objects, I just find them kind of... inconvenient, compared to a plastic biro. Much more impressive, though.

Okay now, with the replies done (I'm sorry I take so long sometimes - I just feel awkward replying and bumping the thread if I don't have anything new to post), time for the new stuff. I've been playing Diablo II again of late, seeing where I can get with a Burst of Speed/passives Assassin, and doing repeated runs of a few areas to level up and hunt for items, and I started thinking about the monsters. Every time you go back into a dungeon, they're back at their posts, loaded up with items to drop and bestowing experience as you charge through annihilating everything in sight... no-one ever asks them if they want to. So in that slightly bizarre, affectionate spirit, I wrote up this little piece of fluff:



By: Chris Cook
Rated: PG
Disclaimer: based on characters from Buffy the Vampire Slayer owned by Joss Whedon/Mutant Enemy, and every dungeon-crawling role-playing game ever made.
Dedication: To the monsters. Adventuring would suck if they weren't there.

[hr]

Deep beneath the World's Edge Mountains lie the Dungeons of Insanity, a vast network of natural caverns and dwarf-fashioned halls of old. They are not for the unwary - it is said that the deepest tunnels breach the bedrock of the world, and venture into the depths of hell itself, and whether or not this is true, it is a fact that the Dungeons are inhabited by countless monsters, all too eager to slay the unwary traveller. Yet legend speaks of great riches, a treasure trove unequalled in all the surface world, if only a hero could brave the manifold dangers of the Dungeons and, having conquered them, stand against the dread Dark Lord and slay him, and many are the would-be champions who venture into this perilous underworld.

This has been going on for some time. There's a sign outside the Dungeons, and a stall run by an enterprising druid selling scrolls of Identify Magic Item and Detect Trap (guaranteed to prevent lethal injury or your money back).

Several hundred metres below ground, a battle was taking place in an ancient cathedral to dark gods, and several levels below that, in a less ambitious cavern, a dark conjurer was cleaning her nails with an ornate sacrificial dagger. She looked up as a pillar of flame burst into life in the middle of the floor, vanishing an instant later and leaving in its place a blood-red woman with bat-like wings, impressive horns, a pointed tail, and a chainmail bikini, who said "-uck!"

"Hi Tara," the conjurer said, getting up and smiling. "You okay?"

"Hi Willow," the demon said, wincing slightly. "Yeah, it's nothing. Got distracted in a melee, some level twenty paladin snuck up behind me, and I turned around just in time to get an enchanted warhammer between the eyes."

"Ouch, nasty," Willow said sympathetically.

"Blunt weapons always give me a headache when I respawn," Tara complained.

"Here, lemme try something," Willow offered. She put a hand gently on Tara's forehead, between the horns, and spoke several dread syllables learned from books written in languages of madness. Tara's eyes widened.

"My headache's gone!" she exclaimed. "Thank you, how'd you do that?" She hugged Willow, then took her hand as they wandered back to the ancient, dried-up fountain the conjurer had been sitting on previously.

"Oh it's nothing," Willow smiled. "I was rummaging through some old spellbooks left behind by an apocalyptic cult from before the dawn of time. Nothing much else to do between heroes."

"Quiet over your way, is it?" Tara asked.

"Yep, not much traffic these days in the Chapel of Anguish," Willow shrugged. "Amy moved out - said it wasn't high-profile enough."

"Oh?"

"I guess it's true. There's not so many sorcerer-heroes these days, and the fighters tend to avoid all the dark magic areas - anything they can't just tackle hand-to-hand gets them all confused. Amy got a job over at the Labyrinth of Torment, apparently there's some rumour going around the barbarians that there's a mystical suit of armour at the heart of it, so it's gotten pretty busy down there and they're hiring more evil witches to keep up."

"So you're stuck in the Chapel with just Harmony?" Tara asked sceptically.

"Yeah it's not ideal," Willow admitted. "But with the low hero traffic I can handle it without much help, and Harm spends most of her time on the crystal ball chatting with some harpies she went to school with."

"How'd you wind up respawning?" Tara asked. "I wasn't expecting to see you until the weekend."

"Ran into a knight with an Armageddon scroll," Willow complained. "Being incinerated's no fun for someone with my skin tone, believe me - I wish I had your immunity to fire."

"Your skin always looks good," Tara ventured. Willow blushed, which was particularly noticeable on her pure white skin.

"I have a moisturiser spell," she grinned sheepishly. "So, it's all melee up in the Cathedral of Endless Night?"

"You wouldn't believe it," Tara said wearily. "I don't know whether someone up top's made a map to the place or what, but it's just an endless stream of heroes these days. We can hardly slaughter them fast enough."

"I hear resurrection scrolls are getting cheaper," Willow noted.

"That's probably contributing to it," Tara agreed. "It used to be that you could behead a hero, and it'd be at least a month before the rest of his party got together enough gold to bring him back. Put in a good couple of days' worth of hero-killing, and you'd have at least a couple of weeks of low traffic, plenty of time to relax... visit friends," she added, with a grin at Willow.

"Is the Dark Cardinal hiring extra monsters?" she asked.

"He says he's hiring more to cope with the demand," Tara replied. "But if you ask me he's trying to do it as cheaply as possible - animated skeletons that keep falling apart on their own, a couple of minor fire elementals that keep fizzing out when you really need them... It's not enough, against the kind of organised parties of heroes we're getting lately. We're rushed off out feet."

"How's Buffy?" Willow asked.

"She's doing okay. That thing between her and Riley is starting to get serious."

"Riley? The yeti?"

"She's borrowed an amulet of lycanthropy so she can have a fur coat when she visits him down in the Arctic Vaults," Tara nodded. "I haven't seen her much lately, it's too busy in the Cathedral to duck out for a chat."

"You work too hard," Willow frowned.

"It's a living," Tara shrugged. "There's not a lot of demand for succubi, really - it's all about specialists, powerful spellcasters or melee juggernauts. There's not a lot of high-level job opportunities for demons like me, with a few spells, a few melee moves, but nothing specialised."

"I was thinking," Willow said hesitantly. "There's a little cavern down near the Pillars of Dread that's vacant, and I've been saving up the loot from the heroes who've come by the Chapel without looking where they were going..."

"You're thinking of moving in?" Tara asked.

"It wouldn't be much, just a few caves and connecting tunnels," Willow admitted. "It'd probably only attract a few dozen heroes a month at most, but I think it's got potential, and once a bit of treasure builds up there's room to put in a Library of Evil, maybe even an Ancient Altar, that'd get a bit more interest once word got around."

"I-it sounds lovely," Tara smiled. "I think you should go for it."

"Well that's the thing," Willow went on hesitantly. "I'm not really sure about taking it over just by myself, and I was thinking, perhaps, if you wanted... maybe the two of us could try it out?"

"R-really?" Tara said, stunned.

"They're not using your talents in the Cathedral of Endless Night," Willow pointed out. "You're... you deserve better than to be just another demon in a melee line-up, and I think between the two of us, we could really make a go of this, I've been basically running the Chapel of Anguish solo for the last few weeks so it's not like I've never done this before, and... it occurred to me, as well, if we were both in the same area, then when some high-level hero came marauding through and wiping out everything in sight, we'd have our twenty-four-hour respawn cycles at the same time, so we could keep each other company, instead of just meeting like this when it happens by chance that we've both been banished at the same time... and even when we're active, we could still spend time together, and the cavern's really close to the southern stairwell so we could visit our friends, and... I, uh, the truth it, I'd really like to spend more time with you. You know?"

"Y-you really want me to move in with you?" Tara asked in a whisper.

"I do," Willow nodded anxiously. "So... what do you say?" Tara took a deep breath, then let herself smile.

"I say, I would absolutely love to torment heroes with you," she grinned, stretching out a wing to curl around Willow and propel her into her arms.

"Me too," Willow smiled, returning the hug.

_________________
Chris Cook

Through the Looking-glass - Every world needs a Willow and Tara.

Chris,
That's so sweet and aaawwww-inspiring that it makes me want to cast a protectio spell of my own to make sure they get to do it.
Yeah, the world isn't what it used to be what with all these new-fangled gadgetry-gimmicky kids with their digital doo-dads to do all the work for them.
Why I remember in my day when we had to actually go hand-to-hand combat with denizens of the underworld and now, if they can't cast some sort off enchanted blackberry spell at them, they'll just gnore them to death until they go away.
Like the demons are inconveniencing them by not waiting until they get off their cell phones or have finished downloading spells onto their I pod or what have you.
No wonder that Willow and Tara want to hole up where they can't be bloody bothered with these entitlement adventurers.

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I can deny chicks in chainmail nothing.
Amberhol-from the land of sky blue waters.
No Mere Music Hall, This my novel available directly from rosestindog@gmail.com.

Now that's romance.

I only wish I lived a couple hell pits over from their new cavern. I'd invite them over for some ritual disembowelments and a cup of tea.

taralicious Thanks Yep, monsters never get the appreciation they ought to, especially in these days when heroes just figure out which ones have the highest percentage chance of dropping good magical items and run them over and over again, instead of playing the game like it's meant to be played. I like to think Willow and Tara will bring back some of the carefree fun into battling to the (temporary) death.

Boschi: Thank you. Romance flourishes in the strangest of places - then again, one workplace is pretty much like another, so perhaps it's not that strange after all.

New short story (in two parts) coming up, stay tuned!

_________________
Chris Cook

Through the Looking-glass - Every world needs a Willow and Tara.

Title: The Dryad
Author: Chris Cook
Rating: NC-17
Summary: A chance meeting on the boundary between the mundane and magical worlds.
Spoilers: None
Copyright: Based on characters from Buffy The Vampire Slayer, owned by Joss Whedon/Mutant Enemy. All original material is copyright 2007 Chris Cook.
Feedback: Pretty please Here, or to alia@netspace.net.au

Warning: Okay, this will be tricky to explain, without giving away certain details of the ending... Okay, y'all remember Gold, and how that was kind of weird, but (hopefully) not in a bad way? This isn't like that (no-one's got a tail, for one thing), but it's got weird stuff happening, that if humans were to do... well, they couldn't, as such, but it'd be seriously strange if they did. I guess the gist of it is: 'Warning: magical creatures doing magical creature things, human norms do not apply.' I'm hoping the weirdness will end up seeming profoundly tender and mystical... but it's not mystical in the glowy lights and sparkles sense, it's very physical, not exactly sex but sexual, in a sense... oh I give up. You have been warned... if you actually figured out any of the above, I'm not sure I can. Read on, if you wish...

Oh, also: There's some (more or less undescribed) nekkidness at a point when Tara's not quite yet at the age where that sort of thing is okay to dwell on. Be assured that nothing questionable happens at that point, and more time passes before anything does happen.




Once upon a time, in a faraway land...

Little Tara lived happily with her father until she was seven years old. It was then that the soldiers came to their small village, from the castle of the Baron, lonely on its overlooking peak, and told the people that they must serve their lord in the great strife to the south, the men as soldiers, the women as cooks and weavers and healers.

Tara cried so much, and her father, whom she had never before seen cry, let his tears fall too, as he packed the few belongings he would take with him, and hugged his only child farewell. But before he joined the procession of villagers leaving their homes, he knelt down, looked Tara in the eye, and told her: "I do not know what will happen, little one. While I am gone, you must look after yourself, as I have begun to teach you. Be kind and generous, as your mother's spirit has made you; be gentle and watchful of the world around you, and it will teach you all that you need to know; be patient and brave, and never fear what your heart tells you. I love you so much, Tara. Though it seems not so now, I know you are blessed. Believe that, my dear child, and it will be so."

The Baron made accommodations for the children temporarily orphaned by his contribution to the strife, but he did so without enthusiasm. Food and care and some education were given by the castle's servants, and protection by its remaining guards, but a family's love could not be found in its larders or its armouries. The children became each other's family, but in spite of their companionship, Tara found herself lonely.

Seven long years passed, as the old fields were overgrown, the village's forge lay cold, its fire long gone, and the far-off strife wore on. Tara, whose father had taught her reading and writing, helped the castle servants to likewise teach the other children, but it was her own learning that helped fill the void in her heart. The Baron cared little for literature and the sciences, but for the sake of his prestige he kept the library in his castle amassed by one of his forebears, and saw no reason to bar its doors. So Tara read of far-off lands and strange peoples, read tales of adventure, of sorrow and sacrifice, joy and triumph, read the writings of old sages who had studied the mysteries of the sky and the earth and the sea, and read the thoughts of those who had plumbed the enigmas of the mind, the body and the soul.

The edge of the forest was Tara's favourite place to read. The dusty, stuffy old library, with its high, small windows, was quite unsuitable, so every day she could, she would take a book and walk down from the castle, through the overgrown fields that had once been her father's farm, and come at last to the wild trees, where she sat with her back against a welcoming trunk and read, with the sunlight warming her and the cool wind toying with her golden hair. She never ventured into the forest - it was a strange, unknown land, claimed by no man, not even the Baron, and though Tara did not fear it, she knew its dense, twisting pathways were not to be trodden lightly, lest she find herself lost. So she contented herself with visiting the edge of the trees, and found their shade most welcoming when she did.

One evening, after seven years of absence, the men and women of the village returned, and Tara's father was not among them.


Thunder rumbled far-off, but if the sky was lit it was impossible to see through the thick branches. Rain fell in irregular patterns, falling from leaf to leaf, gusting sharply among the tree trunks. There was a half-moon in the sky, casting just enough of its silver light that Tara could see, through tear-filled eyes, enough not to trip as she ran headlong into the unknown forest. Fronds and leaves whipped at her arms and legs as she passed, twigs tugging the edges of her clothes, teardrops falling in her wake and becoming lost in the puddles of rainwater.

She had no idea where she was going, only that it was away: away from the castle, away from the village, away from the cold, dark house her father should have returned to. She ran and ran and ran, until she burst through the soft curtain of a willow tree's leaves and suddenly her foot sank to the ankle in water. Stumbling in the shallows she scrambled back, and found herself on the edge of a tiny lake, hidden from all the world, enclosed on every side by the forest.

Tara wore only a light blouse and long skirt, now muddied from her flight, and was in no condition to swim. Denied her escape, wherever it was going, she slumped to the ground and let herself fall sideways, lying stretched out on the damp ground, her body heaving with sobs as she cried into the rain.

Her outstretched hand touched something, and she looked up, her grief forgotten, if only for a moment. An old branch had fallen nearby, torn by the wind, and its fall had wrenched a tiny sapling from the ground, leaving it lying on the grass as Tara was, broken and bereft, its fragile roots longing for the earth that had been swiftly whipped from beneath it.

Tara dragged herself to her hands and knees, and without thought began to gently extricate the sapling from the fallen branch. She lifted it upright once more, and carefully worked the roots back into the soil, tilling it lightly with her fingers, patting it down once she was done. The rain had stopped, the storm's winds had lifted, and a stillness settled over the forest as Tara sat before the sapling and gently stroked its tiny leaves.

"There you go, little one," she whispered. "You can grow now."

"Thank you," came a quiet voice from behind her.


Tara was crouched, motionless, frozen where she had whirled around to see the speaker. Her eyes were fixed on the willow tree, from whose trunk a slender form had emerged. It looked like a girl, almost old enough to be a woman, yet in place of legs she seemed to have grown out of the tree itself, the bark softening into her hips, lightening to the tone of her skin. Her arms were likewise entombed in the tree, bent back at the shoulders, vanishing into the trunk around her elbows, yet as Tara watched she slowly withdrew first one, then the other, revealing perfect, human hands, and leaving the bark to close in their wake without so much as a trace.

"Wh-what a-a-are y-you?" Tara whispered, unable to move, unsure if she should.

"Call me Willow," the stranger said, bracing her hands against the trunk behind her and pulling two flawless legs clear of the willow tree. She smiled at Tara and took a step towards her, halting as she saw the blonde's eyes widen in fear.

"It's alright," she said, ducking her head and offering a calming smile as she slowly sat cross-legged a few paces from Tara. "I don't mean you any harm. I just wanted to say thank you."

"Wh-what for?" Tara asked, confused. Willow nodded at the sapling behind her.

"You helped me," she said. "I thought it'd be only fair to let you know I appreciate it..." She offered Tara a friendly grin, and relaxed when she saw some of the tension ease out of her.

"You?" the girl asked, glancing at the sapling. "This is... you?"

"All of this is me," Willow said, casting a hand about. "Trees, flowers, grass, moss, earth, water... all the forest."

"You're a dryad," Tara said, her brow furrowing as she grappled with the idea. "I-I've read... I thought dryads were legends, stories - metaphors, I mean, for how a forest has a kind of life..."

"Nothing wrong with being a metaphor," Willow grinned impishly. The corners of Tara's mouth turned upward of their own accord, and she found herself sharing a smile with the forest spirit.

"What's your name?" Willow asked.

"Tara."

Willow nodded, and leant forward, rolling over so that she lay outstretched on the ground on her back, just far enough to reach out a hand to the blonde. Tara hesitated a moment, looked into Willow's forest-green eyes, and took her hand, finding it soft, and warm.

"Thank you, Tara," Willow said.


"So, do you... come out, often? Of the trees, I mean."

Tara and Willow lay side by side on the grass, their feet dipping in the lake's crystal clear waters. Tara's rain-soaked clothes were hanging on a branch not far away, drying in the soft breeze, leaving her clad in only a thin cotton shift that, what with her growth, was not as concealing as it once was, reaching just barely over her hips. Willow, of course, was naked. Tara was fascinated by her, at first in the way she lay, so natural among the leaves and tiny flowers that dotted the grass, her fingertips sinking slightly into the earth, as if she was putting down roots every time she lay still for a moment.

Willow seemed utterly unconcerned at being seen by Tara, and in fact it was Tara who had broken off and stared instead at the sky, when she found herself drinking in the sight of Willow in a way she never before had, with anyone else. She spoke the question in hope of a moment's idle conversation, in which to calm her swiftly-beating heart.

"Not often," Willow replied, seemingly unconscious of the effect her nakedness was beginning to have on her newfound companion. "Every half-moon, that day and night I can 'come out'... at other times, I live in the forest. 'In' the forest, if you get my meaning." Tara chuckled and nodded, though her sudden, surprising desires had not vanished.

"Why half-moon?" she wondered. "I thought... isn't magic supposed to happen during full moons?"

"A full moon is, and a new moon isn't," Willow replied. "But a half-moon is and isn't at once - neither one thing nor the other, yet both at the same time. Half-moons are when things change, one way or the other. Do you think I'm magic?" she asked, tilting her head to regard Tara with an amused smile.

"You are," Tara said, "aren't you?" Willow shrugged.

"I guess it depends what you mean by 'magic'," she said. "For instance, a young woman came running through here, crying as hard as can be, yet she put all that aside to tend to a hurt sapling." She gave Tara a wink. "That sounds magical to me."

They lay together in silence for a moment, before Willow looked at Tara and asked: "Why were you running?"


Tara returned to her village - to which activity was slowly returning - thoughtful and quiet the next morning. Her flight the previous evening was treated as perfectly natural, given her grief, once the adults and the other children saw she was unhurt, and she had told them she'd faced no perils in the forest. Her old neighbours asked if they could work her father's farm, and she accepted this, and their offer of a home with them.

Sorrow still hung heavily over Tara, yet it was tempered. When the grief of her father's loss grew in her heart, so too came the calm she had experienced that night. As she had explained the reason for her flight, punctuated by sobs and sighs, Willow had drawn her close, hugged her tenderly, stroked her hair, and while she paused to find words, sang softly to her, almost under her breath. Tara had talked a long time, dredging up long-ago memories of her father she thought she had lost, and sharing them, and the memories of her mother that her father had given her. She had sat between Willow's legs, leaning back into her embrace, while the dryad in turn sat back against the tree from which she took her name, and listened as Tara remembered.

Sometime during the night Tara had slept, peacefully, and when the morning sun's kiss on her skin woke her, she found herself resting comfortably against the willow tree, between two roots stretching out either side of her, and with its graceful leaves stroking her hair, moved by a breeze which seemed to softly sing as it whispered through the boughs above her.

Tara picked up the ways of her old life again, as the days passed: helping work the fields, tending to the animals that the village folk had brought back with them, playing with the other children, and when she had time, walking to the castle library for a book, and taking it to the edge of the forest to read. The rhythm of village life settled easily over her - yet she knew, come the next half-moon, she would again venture deep into the forest, and nothing else in her life touched her thoughts so deeply.


Every half-moon Tara ventured into the forest, to find Willow waiting for her by her favourite willow tree. Telling the family that had taken her in she was studying the plants of the forest, Tara packed blankets and food in a basket, and remained with Willow as long as the dryad could be with her. During the waxing moon she appeared at sunrise, and returned to the inner world of the forest at the end of the following night, when sunlight once more touched the leaves; during the waning moon, she came to Tara at sunset, and spent the night and the day with her, wishing her farewell until next time only when the day's light faded from the sky.

They would walk together, swim together in the sparkling lake, tend to the trees and the shrubs and all the living things in the forest, and many times simply lie among the flowers, content to just be, and nothing else. They often played hide-and-seek, with Tara searching for Willow among the trees and shrubs and the reeds in the water, any one of which the dryad could have become a part of. She played fair - always there was a hint of her form when she hid, for Tara to find. Tara delighted in seeing Willow's magic, the way she would disappear into a tree only to emerge a moment later from the lake, or lie among wild flowers and sink into them, to rise laughing from the grass nearby. She let Tara hold her hands as she took on the colours and textures of all the living things in her forest, even the rich soil and the clear waters.

And always they talked. At first Tara told Willow many things about the world beyond her forest, of which she knew little, but as their encounters passed, their conversations turned more and more towards the forest itself. Willow knew every living thing within the bounds of her forest, and loved them all deeply, never tiring of telling Tara the secrets of leaves and soil and water, and the rhythms of the trees' slow lives. Tara knew much already, from her readings and her observations, and learned quickly. It was no time at all before she and Willow were equals in their knowledge of the forest, and their love of it.

_________________
Chris Cook

Through the Looking-glass - Every world needs a Willow and Tara.

Wow. What a great premise! And the way you write it just draws the reader in right away. I look forward to reading more of this story (fairytale?).

JD

eeeeeEEeeeeee!!! *jumps in her seat and claps* another awesome stooorrryyyyy!!!!!

*grins and waits* tralalala! Unfortunately I have nothing of substance to offer you in terms of feedback, but I felt my joy at reading this fic should at least be expressed, just so you know how excellent it is and on that note!

*claps again* eeeeeeeeeEeeeee!!!

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let me live forever.. in the space between our lips...

Chris, do you, by any chance, have a thing for full body tattoos? You have a penchant for describing fascinating designs/textures on flesh. Which is just dandy with me.

So first off - love the Dryad beginning. I'm almost sad at the thought of reading more however, as the current arrangement is so lovely and stories always seem to have inevitable conflicts, stress, etc. (silly plots).

Second off - holy mother of spawn, I missed the final princess/dragon update. Wow. Wow again. Wow, yet again. I was laughing with delight at the whole suckling of scent glands thing. What a trip. Definitely looking forward to the sequel.

I agree you capture Willow well. A little I keep waiting for more expressions of her geekiness - some peculiarly obsessive hobby or something. I don't know, dragonfly collecting and classification or something. But I don't really see her sticking them on pins, so never mind...

At anyrate, bravo.

- Boschi

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Don't confuse me with your reasonableness.