Bride of the Dragon

Molly Holmes smiled as she placed the wide-toothed comb down onto the white dresser. "All done, Lithi," she said, turning her five-year-old daughter around to face her. Alethea Johanna Holmes had a proud grin on her face, and Molly knew exactly why. She grinned back. "You were a very patient girl, not complaining once!"

"It didn't hurt at all," said Alethea. "Even when you pulled at the tangles. Why does Daddy always complain when he combs his own curls? His are much shorter than mine."

Molly laughed and picked her daughter up, giving her a snuggle as she walked to the small bed. "Us girls are more patient in matters of beauty, I suppose."

Molly put Alethea down on the bed and tucked the covers around her securely. It was December, and a cold wind was blowing outside. Even in her long winter nightgown, Molly wanted the blankets to be around her little daughter securely so she would be warm.

"All right, love, what's it going to be tonight?" asked Molly, sitting down on the bed by Alethea. "Book? Lullaby?"

Alethea shook her head firmly. "A story," she replied. "Tell me a story."

Molly smiled and nodded. "All right. What kind of story?" She knew that her daughter only asked for a story when she already had a topic or idea in mind.

"A dragon story."

Now Molly laughed. Dragons – or rather, one specific dragon – had become a small obsession to little Alethea since Uncle John had begun reading The Hobbit to her and his son Hamish whenever she spent the night at the Watsons' house. If Hamish slept over here, then Sherlock would be the one to read it aloud. While Hamish's favorite character was Bilbo, Alethea's by contrast had been Smaug the dragon. Molly knew that had everything to do with the way Sherlock read that character, making his baritone voice even more deep and dynamic, thrilling everyone who heard it (and thrilling Molly in a way very different than everyone else, if she were honest with herself).

"You really like that dragon, don't you?" said Molly, brushing a curl from Alethea's cheek. "Even though he isn't very nice and did some pretty terrible things."

Alethea slowly nodded, looking thoughtful as she responded. "I think he's just lonely. All that time in a mountain alone, and what good is gold if all you do is sit on it?"

Her heart flooding over at the wisdom of her child, Molly bent down and kissed her cheek. "Well, then, would you like me to tell a story where the dragon isn't lonely?

Alethea nodded her head more eagerly. "Oh, yes please, Mummy!"

"All right, then," said Molly, and took a moment to think about a premise. It came to her surprisingly fast, and the fact that that she was quite familiar with the world of Tolkien helped a great deal. Once her idea was solid, Molly began in a soft voice.

"Once upon a time, a long time ago in the land of Middle-Earth, there lived a young elf maiden. She was the daughter of the king, Thranduil, and little sister to the prince Legolas. She loved the forest and the creatures who lived in it, and loved to walk the woods at all hours. Soon she knew every tree, every leaf, and every creature that inhabited the forest. They all knew her, too, and were devoted to her."

"What was her name, Mummy?"

Molly thought for a moment, remembering the afternoon when she and Mary had looked at Elvish names with Hamish and Alethea, finding names that matched their own, and soon chose one that she had found for herself. "Amlugves."

"I hope she looks like you," said Alethea. "You have elf hair."

Molly laughed, not denying that her long wavy locks would indeed fit in with the people of Middle Earth, and continued on. "Well, one day, Amlugves came across something she had never seen before in the forest. There lay a very large egg, larger than any she had seen, ready to hatch."

"A dragon's egg!" said Alethea excitedly, clapping her hands. "How did it get there?"

"Amlugves did not know, but she had a theory. Some wicked men and dwarves tried to smuggle things that ought never to be smuggled across Middle-Earth, including dragons. However, they are no match for the forest, and soon run out of it, or try to, in fright, for it does not take kindly to evil. This egg must have been left behind by such a party."

"And did Am-lug-ves," Alethea pronounced her name slowly, "watch the egg hatch?"

Molly smiled and gave Alethea's side a brief tickle which made Alethea squeal (The five-year-old had inherited the ticklish gene from her father). "Of course she did! She'd heard only legends of dragons and had never seen one, so she was fascinated. And when it came out of its egg, she loved it right away. The dragon, in turn, loved Amlugves the moment he first saw her. She named him Smaug."

"What happened next?" asked Alethea eagerly.

"Well, dragons were feared and misunderstood by everyone in Middle-Earth, even elves, because dragons could be so destructive if they so chose to be. Amlugves, who knew the forest so well, raised him there in secret. But the more he grew, Smaug began to feel trapped and hidden beneath the trees. He longed to stretch his wings, to fly, to see the world, but the thought of leaving Amlugves was worse than never leaving the forest."

"How did he leave it, then? And come to take the dwarves' mountain from them?"

Molly sighed sadly. "That is a sad story, Lithi."

"Please tell me."

"Well, dragons are very powerful and dangerous creatures. One can very easily get hurt around them, with their sharp teeth, powerful tail and claws, and of course the fire they can breathe. Smaug was getting bigger, and did not know his own strength. By accident, he breathed fire and burned Amlugves's arm. Smaug was so ashamed and felt so terrible that he wept tears and left the forest in shame, afraid of hurting Amlugves again."

"W-where did he go?" asked Alethea, whose brown eyes had filled with tears.

"North to the Grey Mountains, where there lived other dragons in hiding. After her arm had healed, Amlugves immediately set out on a journey to find him and let him know she didn't blame him at all. Unfortunately, when Amlugves went to the Lonely Mountain to inquire after her dragon, King Thror ordered his soldiers to seize her and throw her in a dungeon."

"What?!" exclaimed Alethea, sitting up in bed. "But why? She didn't do anything!"

Molly sighed sadly, rubbing Alethea's shoulder. "You know how dwarves and elves do not get along. There was a dispute between King Thranduil and King Thror at the time about treasure the elven king had that Thror claimed was his. He imprisoned Princess Amlugves in order to blackmail the treasure from Thranduil. Thankfully, Thror's grandson did not approve of his grandfather's actions."

"Thorin!" said Alethea happily.

"Very good. In secret, he freed the princess and helped her escape the mountain…Unfortunately, the rumor had already grown that the princess had been killed by Thror's command, not just imprisoned. This rumor reached Smaug by dwarves that traveled through the Grey Mountains."

"Oh, no!" cried the five-year-old, covering her mouth. "Poor Smaug!"

"Yes," said Molly calmly, laying Alethea back down. "You can imagine how sad and angry he was when he heard that. That is why he came down on the Lonely Mountain and stole Thror's kingdom for him: revenge." She paused. "In this story, anyway."

"Did Amlugves ever see him again?"

Molly smiled. "When Thorin, the dwarves and Bilbo came to the Wood Elves kingdom, she and her father met with them and the entire story unfolded: where Smaug came from, how Amlugves had escaped the dungeons, and why Smaug had taken his revenge. It was decided that the princess would accompany the company to the Lonely Mountain, so she could reunite with Smaug and persuade him to leave the Lonely Mountain.

"When they arrived, Amlugves and Bilbo entered the Lonely Mountain through the side door; they knew that if Smaug smelled a dwarf, he would eat first and ask questions later. Smaug could feel and smell the presence of two people immediately when they entered; while he didn't recognize the scent of Bilbo, the scent of Amlugves he could recognize anywhere. He thought he was imagining things at first, but when Amlugves approached him and kissed his snout like she used to, he knew it was real." Molly smiled wistfully. "He was so happy that he cried tears of joy."

Alethea smiled in equal joy. "Then what happened?"

"Now comes the end of this story. Bilbo and Amlugves persuaded Smaug to leave the Lonely Mountain, since his princess was alive and the current and rightful king had helped her escape. Smaug agreed, but only if Amlugves would go with him. She agreed, Bilbo promised to let her family know, and then she climbed onto him like one would ride a horse; she fit perfectly. Smaug flew out and away from the mountain with his princess; the men of Laketown shot arrows at him but they couldn't hurt him. And Amlugves and her dragon rode away from Middle-Earth into the west."

"And lived happily ever after?"

Molly smiled and was about to answer in the affirmative, but a voice at the bedroom door beat her to it:

"And they lived happily ever after."

Mother and daughter turned their heads to the voice, finding Sherlock Holmes leaning against the open door frame with a smirk on his face. It seemed his most recent case was finished, and neither knew how long he had been standing there listening to the fairy tale. Molly smiled, and Alethea exclaimed in joy: "Daddy's home!"

Now grinning, Sherlock walked further into the room and stopped at the bed. He caressed the back of Molly's neck in greeting, an intimate gesture that promised much more when they were alone. "Yes, Lithi, I am, and tomorrow I belong to you and Mummy alone."

Alethea grinned, her eyelids already drooping. "Can we go to the park? Hamish and Uncle John are going sledding."

"Of course we can," said Sherlock. "But now it's time to sleep." He bent down and kissed her forehead. "Sweet dreams, daughter."

Molly in turn bent down and kissed Alethea's cheek as Sherlock turned on the night-light. "Goodnight, sweetheart."

"Night, Mummy," murmured Alethea, her eyes closed. "Night, Daddy."

The parents walked to the door, turned off the big light, and silently shut the door behind them.

Not a second passed after the parents had descended the stairs to Alethea's room that Sherlock's head swooped down and his lips had captured his wife's. She returned the kiss with equal passion and joy, and he pressed her body against his tightly.

When his lips had descended to her neck, he murmured against her skin: "Why is it that both you and our daughter like the idea of me as a dragon so much?"

"Oh, I don't know," said Molly, running her hands up her husband's chest before beginning to unbutton it. "That voice of yours can certainly get as deep and powerful as a dragon's."

"Oh, really?" said Sherlock in that voice, his hands slipping under her blouse up her back. "Keep going, please."

"You…" Molly moaned when he nibbled the most sensitive spot on her neck. "You are as intelligent as a dragon, and can certainly be as intimidating as one sometimes."

"Only when what he treasures is threatened." His deep voice was more tender now, his lips coming back up to trace hers. "For a dragon will protect and treasure what is his as long as he lives."

Molly kissed his left breast, just over his heart she knew belonged to her. Then she raised her head, her eyes glittering with mischief. "You certainly have an ego to match a dragon."

In one motion, Sherlock had picked Molly up and began walking her towards their room. Molly giggled, wrapping her arms and legs around him, kissing and nipping his own neck.

Sherlock pressed her against their door and captured her lips again before abruptly pulling away with curiosity in his eyes. "Amlugves…an unusual name. Why did you like that one so much for yourself?"

"Because of what it means," replied Molly with a tender smile, and then breathed the answer against his lips. "Bride of the dragon."

"Perfect," Sherlock growled, kissing her possessively as they entered their room, kicking the door shut. There the dragon passionately made love to his bride, letting her know just how much he treasured the keeper of his heart.

The End