"Then perhaps we may discuss cooperation rather than containment."
Aleric regarded Lord Merrowyn over the rim of his teacup, his eyes steady and unblinking as the steam from the herbal brew swirled between them.
"I am listening."
Athena remained beside him, silent but present, her hand still resting in his beneath the table, a secret anchor of warmth amidst the cold steel of diplomacy. Fafnir lingered within the shaded interior of the manor, human in form, eyes half-lidded but fully aware, a predator waiting in the eaves.
Merrowyn adjusted his posture, the silk of his doublet rustling in the quiet. "The king does not fear your strength," he began carefully. "It fears the unpredictability that can come from it."
"I have been predictable," Aleric replied evenly, his voice like smooth stone. "I respond when attacked. I never attacked or fought a battle without cause."
Merrowyn nodded, acknowledging the logic. "I understand, but your responses are… absolute."
A faint pause stretched through the veranda.
"I do not believe in half measures when the lives of me and my comrades are threatened."
The words settled between them, not aggressive or defensive. It was simply factual. It was the statement of a man who had seen the end of five hundred lives in a single afternoon.
"In the event of foreign powers attacking the country," Merrowyn continued, his tone shifting to the theoretical, "the king will want to know where you stand."
"I'll stand with the kingdom," Aleric replied. "I have no interest in its collapse."
"What I meant to say was, in the event where we would be invaded, would you deploy your forces?"
"My men defend my lands first and this city as I have a contract with the baron."
"And beyond that?"
"If the war threatens the stability of the realm as a whole—yes."
Merrowyn's eyes sharpened, catching a glint of the afternoon sun. "Would you place yourself under the command of the royal army?"
"No."
The answer came without hesitation, dropping like a portcullis.
"I will cooperate with them," Aleric added calmly, "but I will not surrender command of my forces to a general unfamiliar with their capabilities."
Merrowyn exhaled slowly, the sound a mix of frustration and respect. "So in times of war, you would act as an allied commander rather than a subordinate."
"Yes."
That distinction alone shifted centuries of assumption. It was the birth of a state within a state.
"And in times of internal crisis?" Merrowyn pressed. "Rebellions. Noble uprisings. Political instability?"
"If I were summoned legitimately by the Crown, I would hear the request."
"Hear it?"
"I will not act as a tool to settle political grudges or schemes."
Merrowyn did not challenge the statement. It was reasonable. Dangerous, perhaps—but reasonable. He was realizing that Aleric's morality was as rigid as his walls.
"And the dragon, do you really know nothing about it?" Merrowyn asked carefully, his voice lowering as if the name itself had weight.
A silence stretched just long enough to be intentional, the only sound the distant clatter of training spears from the courtyard.
"If the kingdom faces an existential threat," Aleric replied, "I'll see if the dragon Fafnir will act."
He admitted it. He knows the dragon! Does it mean he has command over it? Wait a minute. He said he'd see if it will act. Merrowyn realized, his mind already pondering the meaning behind his words.
"What about deterrence?" he continued. "Using the dragon for border intimidation, displays of power to discourage neighboring kingdoms from testing us?"
Before Aleric could answer, something subtle shifted in the air. It wasn't visible or audible but it made the air heavier, as if the gravity on the veranda had suddenly doubled.
Aleric's expression did not change. "That would require you to negotiate with him."
"Him?" Merrowyn asked.
A faint glance toward the shaded doorway was the only answer he needed.
"The dragon."
Merrowyn did not turn his head, but he felt the implication settle along his spine like a cold finger. He adjusted his approach, trying to find a more traditional footing while attempting to forget the increased pressure over his shoulders.
"Your soldiers," Merrowyn said, gesturing toward the yard where the soldiers continued drilling with mechanical precision, "are better than any mercenary company found in the country."
"What if they are?" Aleric replied.
"They are exceptional." Merrowyn leaned forward slightly. "The king would like the royal army brought to the same level as your men."
Aleric raised an eyebrow faintly. "You are asking me to train the royal army?"
"You would have full training authority but you will still have to coordinate with the kingdom's commanders."
Aleric considered the proposal longer than the previous ones, his gaze drifting to the Trojan archers on the walls.
"No."
The refusal was calm.
"Why?" Merrowyn asked evenly.
"What my men require from me is time, trust and loyalty. I will not integrate soldiers from people who would obviously have their own political machinations into my company."
"The Crown would compensate you."
"This is not about gold."
Merrowyn studied him carefully. "Then is it about control?"
"Yes and no. My company are this good because they follow the same vision as me. Adding external soldiers into my company would not only erode the cohesion of my men but would also invite spies into my ranks as well."
"What if the external men are screened thoroughly before being integrated?"
"I said no."
++++++++++
Merrowyn shifted again in his seat, his fingers tapping a rhythmic pattern on the wooden table. "You mentioned earlier that you have an existing arrangement with Baron Edrin."
"Yes, I did."
"May I inquire what the terms of this contract were?"
"Protection in exchange for funding and territorial autonomy."
"Anything else?"
"I retain independent command of all my men. The Baron cannot compel me to send the dragon either. He wasn't aware I had it."
"And if he attempts to do so now that he knows?"
"The contract becomes void."
Merrowyn absorbed that. Even the Baron did not control the dragon. Interesting. He rested both hands atop the table, the movement final. "Then let us speak plainly."
Aleric inclined his head.
"Since you refuse to pledge your loyalty to the crown, then the Crown desires a standing contract with your company as well."
The air seemed to quiet around the words, the very wind holding its breath.
"Define its terms," Aleric said.
"In exchange for annual compensation, you provide strategic deterrence at the borders, demonstrative flights to discourage hostile neighbors. We would also require the dragon to respond to existential threats against the kingdom."
Athena's fingers tightened slightly in Aleric's beneath the table at his demands. Aleric did not look at her, but he felt it—the sharp, protective edge of her spirit.
"And what kind of compensation are you ready to pay?" he asked calmly.
Merrowyn held his gaze. "Name your price."
A soft footstep approached from within the manor. Fafnir stepped into the edge of the veranda light, still in his human form. But his eyes gleamed with greed and something ancient, a golden fire that made the sunlight seem dim.
"Careful," Fafnir said mildly. His voice was smooth, almost pleasant, but it carried the vibration of a tectonic shift.
Merrowyn straightened instinctively, his shoulders squaring.
"You negotiate for the use of a dragon," Fafnir continued. "Not the rental of cavalry."
Merrowyn did not look away. "What would satisfy you?"
Fafnir's lips curved faintly. "For everything you have demanded of me." His gaze sharpened. "You probably won't have the coin to pay my price."
The air grew heavier. "You are asking for me, a dragon, to lower myself to defend these lands at your back and call."
"What would be the cost?" Merrowyn asked carefully.
Fafnir smiled thinly. "It would be massive."
Aleric remained silent. He allowed the dragon to speak for himself.
Merrowyn's mind calculated rapidly, his eyes darting as he ran the numbers. "What figure?" he pressed.
Fafnir named one. It was devastating. Sustained annually, it would rival the entire kingdom's military expenditure. Merrowyn's composure faltered for the first time, his breath hitching.
"That is—"
"My price," Fafnir finished.
Silence settled over the veranda.
"You would be purchasing not just my claws," the dragon continued evenly, "but also my reputation and I am known as the Dragon King of greed. If you can not pay the gold, you are wasting my time.."
Merrowyn inhaled slowly, trying to settle the sudden tremor in his hands. "The Crown does not possess such liquidity."
"Then do not request me to help you," he growled.
The weight in the air lifted slightly. Merrowyn turned back to Aleric.
"And what about you?" he asked.
Aleric met his gaze evenly. "I will defend what is mine. I will aid the kingdom if it faces collapse. I will not become an instrument of this kingdom's expansion."
His answer was firm, clear and unapologetic.
Merrowyn sat in silence for a long moment. Then he nodded once. "Then we will consider this as a mutual defensive alliance."
"That would be acceptable."
"We will respond to the others call for aid in time of attack."
"I agree."
"You will also coordinate with the kingdom's army in times of war as an allied commander."
"Yes."
The tea had gone cool now. The biscuits remained untouched. Athena's hand remained in Aleric's, steady and warm beneath the table. The negotiation had lasted hours.
Merrowyn rose at last, his joints stiff from the long sitting. "I will take my leave and report this to his majesty," he said.
"I expect nothing less," Aleric replied.
Fafnir stepped back into shadow without another word, vanishing like smoke.
As Merrowyn descended the veranda steps and crossed the training yard once more, he understood something critical. The Crown could not own this power. It could only coexist with it.
+++++++
Lord Merrowyn did not leave Aleric's estate immediately. Even after the tea had gone cold and the last of the formal courtesies had been exchanged, he remained seated a moment longer than necessary, watching the man across from him with new eyes. He had come expecting arrogance. He had found composure. He had come expecting mercenaries on the verge of rebellion. Instead he had found a force looking for autonomous sovereignty.
When he finally rose, Athena's hand was still resting lightly against Aleric's beneath the table, unseen but unmistakably present. Merrowyn bowed—not deeply, but with genuine acknowledgment—and took his leave.
The walk back through the estate left a deeper impression than his arrival. Soldiers drilled in disciplined formations across the training yard. Heavy infantry practiced shield walls with seamless precision. Archers loosed in rhythmic cadence from the battlements at distant targets. The cavalrymen groomed their mounts with the care of men tending to prized war beasts, instead of mere tools.
There was no chaos or ostentation. Only control. As he passed through the iron gates, he felt it again—the faintest trace of something ancient watching him.
He did not look back at Fenrir as he watched him leave this time. He simply entered his carriage and ordered the driver toward the city proper.
High Valmere was restless even five days after the battle. Whispers clung to tavern walls. Rumors lingered in marketplaces. The fallen lord's army—his entire army—had ridden out and never returned. Smoke had risen over the countryside. A dragon had descended. But the city still stood.
The envoy secured rooms for himself and his escorts at a respectable inn near the merchant quarter. He dismissed his attendants early and requested parchment, ink, and a fresh candle. He wrote long into the night, the scratching of his quill the only sound in the room.
He wrote a comprehensive report for the king. He detailed the discipline of the forces stationed at Aleric's estate. The different fortifications around the estate. He mentioned the visible medical tents that were still treating the wounded from the battle five days prior. He mentioned the dragon—how its presence was confirmed, how it was aware and intelligent enough to speak and change into a human form. He mentioned the negotiation attempts regarding military cooperation and training of the royal forces. He framed Aleric's refusal not as defiance but as contractual limitation mentioning the existing standing agreement with the Baron of High Valmere and its binding clauses.
He paused longest when addressing the matter of deterrence.
The dragon is not a servant. It is an allied sovereign entity bound by an agreement. Any contract involving its participation in border intimidation, strategic display, or national defense would require compensation on a scale befitting a kingdom.
He underlined that sentence. Then he added another.
The leader of the mercenaries is not reckless. He is patient. He does not seek dominion. He seeks autonomy.
Merrowyn sanded the parchment, rolled it carefully, and sealed it with his signet. Only then did he allow himself to sleep.
He rose before dawn. The sky was still painted in indigo when he ordered the carriage prepared. He intended to reach the capital before nightfall, and that meant pushing the horses hard but not to collapse. They changed teams at designated relay points along the king's road. Even so, the journey was relentless.
The wheels did not stop. The envoy did not rest. He watched the countryside pass in thoughtful silence. This was no rebellion to be crushed. This was a new variable in the balance of power and variables had to be understood before they were acted upon.
By the time the capital's spires came into view, the sun had dipped low, and torches were already being lit along the outer walls. Merrowyn's carriage entered at near dusk, drawing more attention than he would have preferred. He requested an immediate audience as soon as he arrived outside the castle.
King Aldric IV received him in a private council chamber rather than the grand throne room. Only two senior advisers were present. Merrowyn knelt briefly before rising and stepping forward.
"I have written my full report, Your Majesty," he said, presenting the sealed parchment. "I thought it prudent that you follow along. There are… complexities."
The king broke the seal and began to read, his expression unreadable behind the flickering orange light of the wall sconces.
The chamber remained silent save for the faint crackle of torchlight and the dry rustle of the vellum as he turned the pages. Several times, Aldric IV paused, his eyes tracing the lines of Merrowyn's meticulous script as if searching for a hidden trap.
"You state here," the king said at one point, tapping the parchment lightly, "that the fallen lord rode with his entire army."
"Yes, Your Majesty."
"And none returned."
"None, just as the members of house Vaelor reported before my departure."
The king's jaw tightened slightly, the muscle jumping beneath his skin.
"And this dragon," he continued, his voice dropping to a low, dangerous register. "You are certain it acts by its own will and not coercion?"
Merrowyn met his gaze steadily, unflinching. "I am certain, Your Majesty."
A long silence followed, heavy with the weight of the impossible.
"And if we attempted to bind it to the Crown?"
Merrowyn did not hesitate. "The cost would be staggering. And even then, I am not convinced it would accept."
"The sum named would consume nearly half of the Crown's annual discretionary treasury."
The king's fingers stilled on the parchment, the gold of his rings catching the firelight. Then the king resumed reading. Another pause.
"You describe their leader here as someone with a controlled demeanor and not hostile."
"Yes, Your Majesty."
"Yet you also wrote here that he could become capable of hostilities."
"Yes Sire, but only if provocked."
Aldric IV lowered the parchment slowly, his gaze distant and calculating. "Then from your report, I can see that we stand at the edge of something new."
Merrowyn inclined his head. "I believe so, Your Majesty."
The king rose from his seat and walked toward the tall windows overlooking the darkened capital, where the city lights twinkled like fallen stars.
"A dragon," he murmured, the word tasting like smoke. "In my kingdom. Not bound by bloodline, or by a crown… but by contract." He turned back toward his envoy. " Do you truly believe he does not seek the throne?"
"I do not think he wants it," Merrowyn answered honestly. "He seeks to be left alone, to keep his autonomy and be be able to keep growing his company. Nothing he said or that I saw led me to believe he wants dominion over this kingdom."
The king studied him for a long moment, weighing the truth in the envoy's eyes.
"Then we will not force a confrontation," Aldric IV decided at last. "At least, not yet." His eyes sharpened, glinting with a cold, royal intellect. "But we will keep watch."
Merrowyn bowed. "Of course, Your Majesty."
The king returned to the table, rolling the parchment once more. "He wants autonomy," he said quietly to himself, the phrase a new entry in the lexicon of his reign.
And somewhere far from the capital, behind reinforced iron gates and stone walls, a dragon rested.