Dragon in the Dishwater, Ch 6
Dragon in the Dishwater
Chapter 6
Copyright 2009 comidacomida
Hiraeth waited until Eric closed the door and took a seat on the bed. The little dragon perched atop Eric's bookshelf as they faced one another, and, thusly, he began the promised tale.
"I had spent several seasons with Dwy by the time her father died... more than two years." Hiraeth explained, "Change happened slowly in the smaller fiefdoms, and things were much as they had been when I first appeared... all except for Dwy." Eric couldn't help but detect a tone of admiration and appreciation in the dragon's usually neutral voice.
"Fourteen to sixteen is a big difference in age among humans." Eric offered.
"Just so." Hiraeth acknowledged, "but humans who have bonded to dragons show many more forms of growth than simple puberty." Before Eric had a chance to question the comment, Hiraeth continued, "While Dwy had always been encouraged to be seen by her father, she felt the need to present herself less and less. It was as if she acknowledged that he would never be a real part of her life and, instead, she chose to focus on other pursuits.
"From what I understood, Dwy had always had a knack with braiding leather. While braiding in and of itself is no difficult feat, any large project is incredibly time consuming... and most people of the time considered leather braiding to be more complex and troublesome than any simple cloth, ribbon, or wool."
Eric realized that his confusion must have shown clearly on his face, as Hiraeth paused in his storytelling and looked to him, "Are you unfamiliar with braiding?"
"I think they teach that kind of thing in home ec." the young man offered dryly, "Most guys in this day and age don't learn about braiding, or sewing, or ribbons and bows and stuff."
Hiraeth continued, undisturbed by the casual condescension that Eric let slip in his voice, "A shame. In times long past, tailors were well respected and held much authority in their villages."
"Well," responded Eric, "Most clothes now are made by machines."
"Back at that time, there were no machines." the dragon responded with complete neutrality, staring.
"So people sewed and braided... got it." Eric relented.
"In Wales, braiding was a form of prayer, and intricate knots and braids were things of great distinction. Few did it well." Hiraeth pressed, still staring.
"And Dwy was one of the ones who did." Eric surrendered the comment, hoping the dragon would cease its predatory gaze; Hiraeth did, and continued the story.
"The works she crafted were amazing to the eyes of those who gazed upon them." the dragon commented, his voice filling with an appreciation Eric had not heard from him before, "And yet... few eyes did, as she kept her craft to herself, sharing the finished pieces with no more than a handful of her ladies in waiting, and myself."
"If she was so great at doing the braiding thing, why didn't she ever show it to anyone besides a few servants and you?"
"Why?" Hiraeth countered, "What purpose would it have served?"
"Well..." Eric paused, chewing on his bottom lip, "she could have at least sold a few of em or something, right? If they were that great, wouldn't people have wanted them?"
The small dragon cast his gaze away from Eric, letting out a sigh. The simple motion would normally have made Eric grind his teeth in frustration-- he'd seen it often enough from his mother... but, for some reason, that time, it made him pause. "What?" he asked of Hiraeth.
Hiraeth shook his head, "Eric... Dwy worked with the leather because it provided her a way to center herself. She was able to think clearly during times she didn't have to think at all. Her braiding was a way for her to meditate, and to explore parts of her mind that would otherwise have been buried under countless thoughts. The product of clarity of thought should remain with the creator... not sold like a stray bauble."
Eric felt his face flush in embarrassment, but it only lasted for a moment as it was quickly buried under by a wave of indignation, "What does wrapping leather straps together have to do with meditation?" he grunted out.
"What does rapidly pressing buttons on a plastic controller have to do with meditation?" the small dragon asked. "You are most happy playing your games when it goes smoothly... you can sit in front of your television for hours on end, doing nothing but press the buttons on your controller, and are only troubled to act or react when your video games are disturbed, or when they end." Hiraeth elaborated, "Is that not a form of meditation?"
Eric shrugged, "I never really thought of it as meditation... I mean... it's a way to unwind, sure, but--"
"And what does it mean, 'to unwind'?" the dragon pressed.
"You know... just... relax... and let all of the day's events go. Taking some time to clear your thoughts and--" Eric paused as he considered what he just said, "I... guess that is a little like meditation."
Hiraeth nodded, "Yes... and for each person, there is a unique way to meditate. Dwy would no more sell her braids than you would sell your memory card."
"Well... maybe for the right price..." Eric offered, cracking a wry grin. The gaze from the dragon suggested a lack of appreciation for the humor, and the young man's face went back to neutral, "Sorry." he offered.
"Accepted." Hiraeth continued, "Despite the reasoning behind her art, Dwy was very skilled with it. All of her ladies in waiting thought the world of her gift, and I agreed. Though there were only a handful of people who knew of her skill with leather, they all admired it. The only reason I tell you of this trait is because it helped to save her life."
Hiraeth continued to tell the story of his first two years with Dwy. He told the details of how he'd hide among Dwy's clothing, discarded papers, in her wardrobe, and anywhere else she could think to place him whenever she was visited by her ladies, servants, or family.
Eric, pausing in thought at the last comment, spoke up, "Didn't you say that her dad never bothered with her?"
Hiraeth nodded at that, "I did, yes."
"But you just said that he visited her."
"No... I said family." the dragon stated, "Her brother visited her at times."
"The one who killed their dad?" Eric asked incredulously.
"Yes."
"Why?" Eric inquired.
"Your question can mean many things, Eric... would you elaborate please?" the dragon requested patiently.
"Why did her brother visit her? What else would 'why' mean?" the young man offered.
"In response to my comment before your question, why could have meant, 'why did he kill their father', or 'why did he come to'--"
"Never mind." Eric rolled his eyes, "Why did her brother come to visit her?"
"Her brother, in addition to having a keen tactical sense, also had keen political sense. In the old ages, daughters of nobles were valuable commodities, often used to barter treaties, land, services... the possibilities were as endless as the imaginations of the nobility."
"More like 'depravity of the nobility'." Eric said with a huff.
"You do not approve of women being treated as objects then?" Hiraeth inquired.
"No... it's wrong. Women are people, and treating people like objects is slavery."
Hiraeth nodded, "Yes... though it was not seen as such back then. Sons were able to carry on the family lineage and, as such, held an esteemed place in the household. As such, they had an intrinsic value, and were considered an investment well worth the cost of raising and providing for so they could grow into men.
"Daughters, who were not able to carry on the family name, had to provide worth in the form of an applicable piece of wealth. In a way, it was her way of paying back her family for the money it took to raise her. If her father was a good man, he would see her wed to a family that would give her everything she needed to have a good life. Of course, as often as not, daughters were married off for convenience sake... but that was not always the case."
"So you're saying you don't completely disagree with the way they did things?" Eric questioned critically.
"I do not make it a point to judge humanity nor its ways, Eric." noted Hiraeth, "1000 years from now, something that your society takes for granted as everyday way-of-life may be considered barbaric or unjust. Your social expectations cannot be pushed on the people of that time anymore than future generations can individually judge you using their set of social mores."
"You didn't answer my question." Eric pointed out.
Hiraeth let out a sigh, and blinked his inner eyelids, "No... I did not approve of the way Dwy's brother wished to make use of her."
"Close enough." Eric offered, "Sorry... go ahead with the story." he sat back on his bed, head and shoulders leaning against the wall as he watched the little dragon perched on his bookshelf.
Hiraeth stretched his wings slightly before folding them again across his back, eyes observing Eric for several long moments before he continued speaking, "Dwy's brother saw her as an investment. He visited her to get a better understanding of her value, just as if he were inventorying his father's treasury." Eric watched the dragon as much as listed to him, seeing the way his scales rose up along his neck, and the faint hiss that accompanied his speech.
"You didn't like her brother." Eric guessed, "and I bet if he knew about her skill with braiding he'd have abused that knowledge."
"I did not, and I believe you are correct." the dragon confirmed, "And it was all the more apparent that I had cause to not trust him when her brother murdered their father."
"That'd be a dead give-away." Eric bemused, but hid his smile from Hiraeth as the dragon stared at him. A feral displeasure was apparent in his gaze, and it was enough to make the young man pause for thought, remembering the nasty looking claws and maw full of teeth.
"The following day, Dwy's brother declared himself lord, and announced that Dwy was to be wed to a neighboring lord. It did not take much to discover that her future husband had, himself recently ascended to his own throne in a similar manner." Hiraeth shook his scales out, settling them down against his flesh once again so that he did not appear quite as intimidating.
"Like begets like... and the two were quickly allied with one another. Promising the neighboring lord his sister was the next logical step." Hiraeth began to flex one talon, and then the other, careful not to dig deep gouges in the book case as he did so, "When Dwy was told of this, she ordered her ladies in waiting out of her room and locked herself away."
"Did you see her again after she closed her room off?" Eric asked.
"Of course." Hiraeth answered, "I remained in the room with her. She sent her ladies away... not me."
"Oh... I just guessed that--"
"Or you did not listen." Hiraeth quickly added.
Eric felt his face flush at the accusation, and he grit his teeth to avoid any comebacks to the comment, but, after a moment, added neutrally, almost mimicking the dragon's speech pattern with an off-hand, "I was seeking clarification."
Hiraeth continued without further comment, "Dwy spent many days locked away, uncertain about many things: her brother, her future husband, her home, her life... During that time I stayed with her, speaking to her when she spoke to me. I listened when she talked, and offered input when it was required. Together, we decided that she could not stay in the castle any longer, and that she would have to make her escape."
Eric thought about that for a moment, considering what it would mean to flee from a castle. He'd never been in one before, but he saw enough documentaries to know that a castle was not a small place, and, if there were servants, and courtiers, and guards--
"It would be very difficult to leave with so many people watching." Hiraeth spoke up, breaking Eric's line of thought by finishing it for him.
"Um... yea... I bet. Lots of people around and everything." Eric noted, recovering himself from the dragon's assertion, "But... she did it before, right? When she found you she got out of the castle."
"That was when her father was in charge." Hiraeth explained. "She did try the same method first... but guards stationed around the castle escorted her back to her room every time she tarried very far. We both realized that there would be no easy way to walk out of the castle... and so, at that time, as I noted before, it was her skill with leather that saved her life."
"I've been waiting to hear this one... and don't tell me she used thin little leather straps to tie a rope and climb out of the window." Eric smirked, bemused at the thought.
"Why should I not tell you?" Hiraeth questioned.
"Well..." Eric chuckled, "because that'd be--" he paused, watching the dragon watching him, "I mean... little straps of leather can't support that much weight even if... that is..." he squirmed beneath the dragon's stare, "are.... are you saying that's what she did?"
"Yes."
"But little straps of leather can't support that--"
"You already said that." responded the dragon.
"Then how did--"
"She used this little leather straps to tie a rope and climb out of the window." Hiraeth noted, parroting Eric's earlier comment.
"Okay... and you're going to explain, I hope?" Eric requested.
"That depends on if you want to know, or still do not want me to confirm that is how she escaped." Hiraeth replied blandly.
"Well... aside from the fact that it seems impossible... I want to know." Eric answered back, just as blandly.
"Despite you not wanting me to tell you." Hiraeth spoke.
"That was a figure of speech..." Eric said with an eye roll, "I mean... come on! How can someone climb down a 'rope' when they're using shoelaces tied together?"
"How does a television work?" Hiraeth asked Eric.
"Well... it uses electricity to... um... make light... and that light becomes a picture..."
"How does electricity work?" the dragon pressed.
"Okay... so in the wall there are wires that carry electricity... and electricity can be taken out of the wall by..."
"How does electricity get into the wall?" Hiraeth asked further.
"It comes from the telephone poles and-- what's the point of all that?" Eric interrupted the question and answer period.
"I am wondering at the fact that you understand so little about your own age that you begin to question things you don't understand from a millenia ago." Hiraeth replied calmly.
"You just didn't give me time to answer!" Eric blurted, flushing a deeper red in his indignation at the dragon's audacity to question how much he knew. The teen gripped his pillow, ready to fling it at the dragon for his insults.
"You couldn't have answered." Hiraeth offered calmly and in a non accusatory tone, "You know a lot about many things, Eric... but you cannot answer those questions because you have not taken the time to learn."
Eric snapped the pillow to attention, hauling it over his shoulder into a throw-ready position before he paused.
"Tell me, Eric... I will not interrupt you if you can explain to me how a television works." the little dragon settled down atop the bookshelf, crossing his forelegs and resting his head down atop them as a dog might, eyes still gazing at the young man, inner eyelids blinking once.
The teen paused, arm and pillow frozen in position, suddenly feeling very heavy to him. Eric let out a sigh, opening his hand and letting the pillow fall back to the bed. He eased his back against the wall once again before he stated aloud both to himself and the dragon, "I can't really explain..."
The dragon nodded, "Go on."
"I mean... I kinda know how it works... I can use it... and I can watch it... I can hook video games up to it and play them. It's... well... it's not that I don't know HOW to use a TV... and I know I can learn how it works from the inside out if I wanted to... I just never have." he finally admitted.
"So you know that a television works, but you do not know how it functions?"
"Right." Eric confirmed.
"Can you not then accept that the rope did work, and that you need not understand how?" Hiraeth asked.
Eric was caught off guard by the reasoning, and, for a moment, he felt the pangs of frustration start to build again, but he swallowed them away, covering his face with a hand for several seconds before speaking up, "Can you at least give me the user-guide version then?"
He saw the little dragon flash his needly teeth in a grin at the comment before speaking up, "Magic."
"Um... magic?" Eric asked.
"Magic." confirmed Hiraeth.
"Okay... can we stop things there for a minute?"
"What is wrong?" Hiraeth questioned.
"Magic is... you know... probably different now than it was a thousand years ago... but, most people these days don't believe anything like that kind of magic exists." Eric offered as amiably as he could.
"Most people likely do not believe in dragons either." Hiraeth countered.
Eric's breath caught in his throat, and he quickly pushed down the indignation the comment brought to him. The dragon had a knack for oversimplifying things.
"You may have problems with over complicating things." Hiraeth offered to Eric, hopping off of the bookshelf.
Eric groaned to himself, rubbing his head at the dragon's apparent skill at reading him as easily as a book, "Listen... I'm not saying that I want to argue the point, but there's a lot of things that just don't make sense about anything called 'magic'."
The young man turned to watch the small dragon as it nimbly used its talons to unlace both of his shoes. Hiraeth turned back to him and, in a mere three seconds, had both of the shoelaces tied together in an intricate series of braids and joined at the middle by an even more intricate looking clover-shaped knot. Hiraeth hopped up next to Eric on the bed and placed the shoelace knot into his hand.
Eric admired the strange shape... open in the middle, but a complete circular knot surrounding the opening. He was unable to tell where one shoelace ended and the other began. running a finger from the top of it, Eric slowly traced a complete circle around the open-center knot, and he didn't stop until his finger slid off of the bottom of the shoelace 'rope'.
"Pull them apart." Hiraeth directed.
Eric glanced at the dragon, who was watching him, and then looked back to the joined shoelaces in his hand. Strangely reluctant to destroy the surreal beauty of the strange knot, Eric took either end in a finger, and gave it a gentle tug. The knot was surprisingly firm for such a delicate-looking weave. The young man pulled again, harder; still nothing. Confused, Eric gave the knot a firm yank, and, again, it refused to separate.
"That's a strong knot." Eric offered, dangling one end back to Hiraeth, "I see what you--" and he paused as the dragon gingerly took that end in his muzzle, and backed away. The two shoelaces separated without any resistance, as if they were not even knotted in the first place.
"How did you--?"
"Magic." Hiraeth answered.
"You know..." Eric answered, closing his eyes as he took a steadying breath, "in this day and age, most magic is done in the form of a trick... there's an answer to it... a work-around... a way to explain it if you look carefully, or watch closely, or know enough about physics, or showmanship, or mathematics, or--"
"And there is the key:" Hiraeth interrupted, "knowledge." He returned to the shoes and re laced them. With a quick hop, Hiraeth was back atop the bookcase and turned once again to face Eric, "The magic of the old age is in many ways the same as your television... you may see that it works, and you may even know how to use it... but you may never know HOW it works until you are willing to pick up the book and learn."
Many thoughts went through Eric's head at that moment. He had seen magic tricks performed on stage, and he knew that there were a lot of ways to confuse the senses, but he had never seen magic done up close before... and had never found it so convincing. He knew that the dragon spoke about more than parlor tricks, and he knew that, until the previous day, he did not believe in dragons. What else, he wondered, was there out there that he didn't realize existed.
"May I continue with the story now, or will you continue to question how she escaped?" Hiraeth inquired.
"So... Dwy was able to do magic like that?" he asked, pointing to his shoelaces.
"Dwy was not a sorceress... and was not a druid... and was no magus... but her skill with braids and knots were beyond equal. Dragons are creatures of magic, which means that it is easier for magic to work around us and, often, through us. Her will to escape, and my will to help her was enough for magic to be imbued into her leather, and, with it, she was able to create a rope strong enough for her to scale down the tower and into the courtyard."
Eric nodded. He still wasn't sure he could believe such a feat possible, but, as a story, it was amazing, and he figured the least he would be able to do was to suspend his disbelief for the sake of listening.
"From there, we made our escape." Hiraeth noted.
"Did she take a horse like the first time?" Eric asked.
"There were guards at the gate... she would not have gotten by them." Hiraeth answered.
"So... did she disguise herself as a little old lady or something?"
"She did not disguise herself so much as change the perception of the guards." the dragon answered.
"She what-who-huh?" Eric failed to formulate a coherent question.
Hiraeth mirthfully refolded his wings, watching Eric's expression after the comment, "How did she confuse the guards?" Hiraeth offered a usable question.
"Um... yea. How did she do that?"
"Perception is a strange thing... people see what they wish to see. Truth is a personal thing. Three people may observe the same event, and yet tell completely different stories." Hiraeth spoke, "and, to that end, if someone does not know what they are looking for, they do not see it."
"So... she.... turned invisible?" Eric attempted to reason.
"No. There is no way to be invisible, because that would be akin to not existing... Dwy simply failed to be seen."
"How is that any different?" Eric asked flatly.
"When did you get that dent in your door?" Hiraeth questioned, suddenly changing the topic.
"What dent?" Eric asked, frustrated that the dragon would so casually ignore his question.
"The one there... in your door." Hiraeth's tail straightened, motioning to a none-too-small indent mid-way down the door, on the side opposite of the doorknob.
"I don't know... I probably hit it or something one day when I threw my mom out of my room after she barged in." Eric shrugged, "What's your point?"
"How many dents do you have in your door?" Hiraeth asked.
"Just that one, I guess... what does that--"
"Why did you not know of which dent I spoke then? I identified your door, and spoke of the dent... if there was only one dent, then the topic of discussion should have been straight forward." Hiraeth blinked.
"We were talking about something else... anyway, you could have been talking about any number of things, and--"
"But I was not... I was referring to that dent. And, therein is my point." the dragon noted.
"I don't get it." Eric paused.
"When Dwy walked through that gate, she may easily have been as obvious as the dent in your door... something you see every day and take for granted. Unless someone calls your attention to it, it may as well not exist. You cannot be invisible... but you can be unnoticed." Hiraeth spoke.
"So... you're saying 'she used the force'." Eric tossed his pillow on the floor, "That's just--" the young man stopped as he looked back to the bookshelf, and Hiraeth was gone.
Eric quickly jumped to his feet, looking at where Hiraeth had been, then paused, looking back to the bed, then to the different shelves in the bookshelf, then behind it, and did a complete circle where he was standing. "Where?" he only got a single word out.
"Here..." Hiraeth spoke off to the side, making Eric jump. Looking in that direction, Hiraeth was perched on the edge of Eric's bed, almost right next to him, holding the dropped pillow in his talons, offering it to the young man.
"How did you get from there to there? And... I looked on the bed... and..." Eric's confusion made it difficult for him to voice the right words.
"I was not invisible..." clarified Hiraeth, "but you did not notice me."
"So you were hiding then." Eric countered, snatching the pillow, "I looked on the bed... and the floor... and--"
"And you SAW me... you just didn't NOTICE me." the dragon spoke simply.
"No." Eric countered, "If I saw you, I would have noticed you..." and Eric went back through the events in his mind... seeing Hiraeth missing from the shelf, and then he lept to his feet, and he glanced back at the bed as the little dragon hopped up onto it with a pillow in his maw, and then looking to the bookshelf and the shelves and-- "I DID see you!"
Hiraeth nodded, "Yes... you did." and Hiraeth shook his head, a small, intricately folded paper cuff sliding off of one of his horns, "But you didn't notice me."
Eric paused, looking down at the piece of paper on his bed. It looked the same as any other post-it note, except, in little, clean, calligraphic writing, the folded post-it read, "not here".
"So you're telling me this is magic?" he asked, picking up the post-it.
"No... nor were the shoelaces. Magic is what we make of it."
"I still can't believe--"
"You don't always have to believe for something to be true." Hiraeth offered.
"Well... it doesn't SEEM like magic." Eric noted.
"What is magic supposed to 'seem' like?" the dragon inquired.
"I don't know... smoke... and explosions... and sparkley little spots of light." he shrugged.
"Then you may be disappointed, for the greatest magic is that which we never even notice." Hiraeth offered.
Eric sighed, rubbing the back of his head, "I think we've gone over about as much as I can process today..."
"I understand." Hiraeth offered amiably, "And you may be hungry soon."
"Why? Didn't we just have--" he glanced at the clock: 7pm, "We really spent almost 5 hours in here?"
Hiraeth nodded, "And you will be wanting to eat dinner soon, I would suspect."
Eric shrugged, "Yea... I guess so." he rubbed his stomach as he heard it gurgle.
"So you will be able to digest your thoughts as you digest your food." the dragon proposed.
Eric nodded, his mind still awash with everything he'd been told and shown, "I guess so."