Rhiannon had bolstered me and given me strength during those days. She was suffering with her own grief, and for many days there wasn't a moment I saw her when her eyes weren't red-rimmed from crying. She lost weight, and even her thick, lustrous white-gold hair began to thin. I remember feeling a shot of fear at the notion of losing both of my parents in a short amount of time.
Any strength she had during those dark times was given to me, as I was the new King and rightful ruler of County Cork. None of us had imagined that I'd come into power at such a young age; my father had always been the most robust and vitally energetic man anyone had ever known. There were no inklings that he would leave us so soon.
It meant that I had to learn my way through rulership, and quickly. Trial by fire, I thought with a wry smile touching the corner of my mouth. Truer words were never spoken, for that's exactly what it was. I had to learn how to rule as my father had; I wished, sometimes moment to moment, that I had paid more attention to him when he tried to teach me.
It's not as if I hadn't respected my father and his wisdom. It's not as if I underestimated the work it took for him to rule as he did. I was simply young, cocksure and headstrong. I was busy stretching my wings, which had only grown to their full span the year prior. I was arrogant and headstrong, testing my limits, seeing how far I could go and whether I could perhaps push things even further. I was absorbed in my youth and my new power. I'd scrap and fight and challenge those around me to try to best me. I suppose I know where my own fiery nature came from.
And, suddenly, those days were over. I had to be King.
As I walked back out to the main hall from the antechamber with my mother, I reflected on the fact that I hadn't done a poor job. County Cork was as prosperous as it had ever been. We'd known mostly peaceful times in the past 10 years; a few would-be usurpers had tried their hand at standing against me, but they had quickly been shot down. There would l always be people, it seems, who feel as though they can defeat a dragon. But they're wrong.
I found in those early days, when my would-be rivals tried to stand against me and challenge the child they assumed sat on the throne, that I loved to fight. Certainly, I had been a scrapper against other animals when in my dragon form; I'd fought other dragons, along with the beasts of the forest. But when it came to going into battle with my men beside me, I realized how much I loved the feeling of my hot blood pumping through my veins, urging me on. This was a different kind of fire – one I enjoyed immensely.
It had been years, though, since the last challenger dared stand against me. I almost regretted this, in my more honest moments; things could be rather … dull … during peace times. A dragon needs a fight. They need a reason to burn.
Now, however, all thoughts of fighting were lost on me. The day I'd been destined for since before my birth had finally arrived: Anabelle was to be my wife.
Again, in moments of honesty I had to admit to myself that there were times during which the thought of marrying this virtual stranger did not appeal to me. There had been so many spirited, lively girls in my younger days. Saucy, pretty things who thrilled at the idea of lying with a dragon, even if he was only in his human form at the time. They'd heard legends of the virility of the dragons, handed down through the ages, and wanted to see for themselves if the legends were true. I imagine they had more than enough to share with their friends after our couplings, and that their whispered reports of the hours we spent together would do more than their fair share of perpetuating the legend.
I wondered at the time why I couldn't take one of these beauties for a bride; aside from bedding them, which I did very well and which we both enjoyed very much, there was the fact that I enjoyed spending time with so many of them. They were witty and bawdy and had true, strong hearts. Would one of them not be suitable for joining their robust blood with the dragon and creating a strong line of heirs?
My father would smile indulgently when I asked him these questions. "Caside," he said once, placing a hand on my shoulder, "I once had thoughts similar to yours. I, too, enjoyed my fair share of beauties from around County Cork and the lands beyond; as far as my wings could carry me, at times!" He threw his flame-red haired head back and laughed heartily. But then he grew serious. "If you are to rule, however," he continued, "you must learn first and foremost to place the needs of your kingdom above your own … however, erm, urgent those needs may seem at times." He winked at me, and I had to laugh.
"I remember before I met your Queen mother," he reminisced, as we walked together through the lush gardens, which surrounded the castle. "We had been betrothed since childhood, just as you and Anabelle have. I hadn't met her, and wondered at the kind of woman she would be. I dreaded the thought of marrying a weak-willed, frail little thing. So many fair ladies are trained to be endlessly deferential to their lord and master's wishes," he told me, then rolled his eyes. "I didn't want any of that! I wanted fire, and passion, as well as beauty and fairness. I wanted a strong woman who could stand up to me and not be afraid to burn." I had nodded my head vehemently at this; it felt as though my father was reading my heart.
"What did you think when you first saw her?" I asked, knowing full well that my mother was exactly the sort of woman he had just described.
"Well, first of course I was dumbstruck by her beauty. Oh, my son, she's a beautiful woman now, but then? I'd not exchange you for anything in the isles or beyond, my boy, but you'll come to learn one day what childbearing can do to a woman's body." He grimaced, then laughed again. "She was pure, young and fresh in those days. Hair flowing loose down her back, smooth skin, bright eyes. Like an angel come down from the heavens, I remember thinking." His mouth curved into a sentimental smile.
"That evening, at the feast to celebrate her arrival, we sat beside each other at the table. All through the meal she was overly polite, kind and sweet-tempered. She deferred to my every wish, my every opinion. I found myself growing irate; I didn't wish to be married to a feeble woman, no matter how angelic her appearance. I decided to test her. I began passing great belches, the loudest I could manage. Still, she remained silent and blank-faced. I couldn't believe how passive she was.
"Finally, I let loose a belch that would have made any man proud. It practically rattled the table. Of course most of those in attendance were too polite to even react, save for a few cheers from some of the men who had had more than their fill of drink," he laughed at the memory. "But your mother! Rhiannon stood up, knocking the huge heavy chair onto the floor as she did. She faced me, hands on hips, and roared ‘If yeh can't control your wind, you've no place on the throne or in my bed, ye great oafish clod!' Then she went on and on in Gaelic, and gasps were heard throughout the room. But as for myself? I was in love.
"I stood up, and she did not even shrink from me. She stood her ground, fiery little thing. But I merely righted her chair, and invited her to be seated once again. Turns out she'd been trained since she was a wee one to defer to the King. Her every training had been devoted to pleasing me and remaining silent. But it wasn't her true nature – and that true nature was what I wanted to see, and what came out of her that night. I knew then that a good match had been made, and she's made me nothing but happy every day since."
"She wasn't even afraid of you?" I remember asking. "Not even knowing that you were a dragon?"
He shook his head. "Oh, aye, there were times she showed fear or concern. It took time for us to learn to live together as man and wife comfortably. It's never easy for the dragon to take its mate, my boy, no matter how much she excites and pleases him. No matter how much he loves her when he's in his human form. I'm sure you've discovered during your own dragon times that you don't think exactly as clearly as you do when you're human, am I correct?" I nodded again, as hard as I had before. I had noticed myself acting more … beastly. I was truly an animal at those times.
"It takes a lot patience from a woman to learn to live with a dragon," my father admitted. "It takes a special kind of woman. And any woman who has been betrothed to you for her entire life is sure to know your nature; she will have been instructed. But instruction and living it are two different things. It will take time, regardless, on both your parts."
I remembered my father's wise words on the day I met Anabelle for the first time. She and her family and their entourage came from Scotland in order to present my future bride. I had heard talk of her beauty and cleverness, so I hoped that those rumors were at least true.