Sir Danny hillith of kattegatt's Arc

Chapter 5 of 10

Danny walked the length of Kattegatt with no guards and no ceremony. The mark across his ribs pulsed with each step, a rhythm that matched his heart. He passed the market square where merchants stopped mid-haggle to stare. Word had already spread—the king who chose a dragon over his crown. The pathway to her tower stretched before him, cobblestones worn smooth by years of pilgrims seeking dragon wisdom. Roses lined both sides, their petals scattered across the stones like drops of blood. At the end stood a carved dragon, wings spread, mouth open in silent roar. Beyond it, twisted trees framed an iron gate and a stone well wrapped in flowering vines. Danny's hand went to his belt where he'd planned to carry the scroll—the one with the golden dragon seal he'd commissioned last month, the one meant to formalize his request for an audience now that he held a throne. But the scroll sat in his abandoned chambers. His fingers closed on empty air. The gate opened before he reached it. She stood in the doorway, one hand still on the iron, the other holding a clay cup. Steam rose between them. Her eyes found the space at his belt where the scroll should have been, then lifted to his face. "I heard," she said. Not a question. Not surprise. Just acknowledgment that the council had met and he had chosen. Danny opened his mouth to explain, to tell her about the dragon's mark and the throne and the seventeen speeches he'd forgotten the moment he walked out. But she stepped aside and gestured him in. "Come. The dragon's been waiting for you since dawn." Danny crossed the threshold with nothing in his hands and no words prepared. The dragon mistress closed the gate behind him and offered the cup. "It's yours if you want it," she said. "I made extra." He took it. The tea was too hot and slightly bitter, but he drank it anyway. She watched him without speaking, waiting for nothing, expecting nothing. For the first time in three years, he had nothing to offer but himself. The mark across his ribs burned warm. "I don't know what happens now," he said. She smiled—not the deflecting laugh he knew, but something quieter. "Neither do I," she said. "That's different." It was. Danny realized he'd never seen her uncertain before. The scroll wouldn't have changed this moment. No plan would have. He set the empty cup on the well's edge and followed her inside.