Chapter Text
Emma tore into a turkey leg with her fangs, ignoring the looks of disgust being shot her way. She didn’t care what anyone else thought of her. The money she’d paid the barkeep gave her every right to be in the tavern like the rest of the villagers. They could glare at her all they wanted. She was going to enjoy her food and drink in peace.
Or so she thought.
“You!” shouted an angry man.
Emma ignored him, not knowing (nor caring) if he was addressing her. Once again, he called out from across the tavern.
“Demon!”
Emma paused, mid-drink, and set her stein down with a heavy sigh. She turned to face the angry man as he stormed towards her.
“Surely you aren’t talking to me,” she said, hardly disguising the threat.
“Shut your mouth, monster! You don’t belong here!”
Emma laughed. “I paid for my drink like everyone else, and I’ll continue to do so until I’ve had my fill.”
She silently sipped her ale with a smirk, which only added fuel to the fire. The man slapped the drink out of her clawed hand, and it was at this point that Emma had endured enough. She narrowed her serpentine eyes at him.
“I believe you owe me another drink, old man.”
“I don’t owe you a thing, demon! Away with you!”
Emma stood up and placed a hand on the sword at her side. “Call me a demon one more time,” she warned, “I dare you.”
The man scoffed. “What the hell are you, then? A dragon?”
A sly smirk crept onto Emma’s lips. “Only half,” she said, “Now, if you don’t fuck off to whatever shithole you crawled out of, I’ll just have to feed you to my father. He’s a dragon, and I imagine he’s quite hungry.”
“Y-You’re bluffing!” cried the man.
Emma folded her arms. “Am I now? Care to find out?”
The man looked like he’d just wet himself and scurried off with his head hung in shame. Emma shook her head and reached down to retrieve her stein.
“Pitiful. Bastard didn’t even buy me a new drink.”
She sat back down and continued eating her turkey leg when a man in a green cloak came to sit next to her.
“Half dragon, you say? You wouldn’t be the one they call Emma, would you?”
Emma eyed the hooded man suspiciously from her peripheral. “Who wants to know?”
“Someone willing to pay a hefty price for your silence.”
“Buy me a drink and I’m all ears.”
“Very well.” The hooded man paid for Emma’s drink and she listened intently to what he had to say. “Her Majesty is hosting a ball at the palace in two days’ time, for all the noble families. The people grow tired of her reign. It is time to seat a proper king upon the throne, one that will lead the Dark Kingdom back into the light.”
Emma smiled. “You wish for me to take care of her?”
“I trust that won’t be too much for you?”
“I suppose not.” Emma took a slow sip of her ale. “It’s just a bigger target than I’m used to.”
“Name your price, halfling, and it’s yours.”
Emma stiffened. “I’ll take ten-thousand gold pieces, and don’t ever call me ‘halfling’ again.”
“Apologies. I was under the impression your kind preferred the term.”
“I have no kind,” Emma hissed, “There is me and only me.”
The hooded man smiled. “Are you going to feed me to your father, as well?”
Emma sighed and shook her head. “I really was bluffing,” she told him quietly, “I never knew my parents. I don’t know which of them was the dragon. They abandoned me in the woods, no doubt to die, but look where that went.”
“I’ll have your money tomorrow night,” said the hooded man, “Where shall we meet?”
“The woods,” said Emma, “near the old well.”
“As you wish.”
As Emma was plotting how best to eliminate the Queen, she found herself pacing the woods to help clear her mind. It usually helped, but not this time, for one reason or another. She eventually came upon the river and stared at her reflection. Green, serpentine eyes stared back at her. If only she’d been blessed with human eyes. Maybe then people wouldn’t be so quick to fear her. Hiding her wings was relatively simple, albeit uncomfortable, and her claws were less noticeable. At least she didn’t have horns. She sighed heavily, pausing when she heard a sound unlike any other.
Someone was singing, and the sound didn’t seem too far away. Emma crept behind the bushes and peered out to find a dark-haired woman bathing in the river, singing a breathtaking hymn in a language she didn’t recognize. It was truly a beautiful melody, but not nearly as beautiful as the songstress herself. Emma was entranced by the woman. Who was she? What was she? A faerie? A siren? A Goddess, perhaps?
Emma supposed it didn’t truly matter. What did matter was that she was smitten with the bathing beauty, easily the most captivating woman she’d ever had the pleasure of laying eyes on. But how could someone so alluring ever want anyone as grotesque as her, a monstrous halfling? The thought became too painful, and Emma fled swiftly and silently through the forest to continue plotting the assassination.
She found it impossible, however, as her mind was completely clouded by desire. All she could think about was how much she wanted to take the woman as her mate and rut until dawn. She bit her lip as a rush of wet heat pooled between her thighs. There was only one way to rid herself of this urge.
She was currently holding the barrel up and letting the ale flow freely into her mouth while the other patrons cheered her on.
“Chug! Chug! Chug!”
The only one not chanting was the angry man from before. He was sitting in the back of the tavern with his arms folded and a deep frown on his reddened face.
“Damn halfling,” he muttered, “drinking up all the ale.”
Finally, Emma swallowed the last of the ale and threw down the barrel while the crowd continued to cheer.
“How do you do it?!” someone demanded, “How is it even possible?!”
Emma, red in the face, laughed as she struggled to stay upright. “Lots— Lots of practice,” she slurred, “and by practice, I mean lots of drinking.” She rubbed her eyes as her vision started to blur. “I gotta go now,” she said, “I have, uh, things to do, you know? I think I’m gonna go and get laid tonight.”
Awkward silence fell over the tavern as Emma stumbled out the door and into the street, where she collapsed.
“I’m okay!”
“Here,” said the soothsayer, “Just drink this and you should be fine.”
Emma took the vial and smelled it. “Hm. Smells like spiced apples.” She downed it all at once and returned the glass vial to the old man. “Thank you, soothsayer. You’re a life-saver.”
The old man extended his hand. “That’ll be one piece of silver.”
Emma paid him and left the hut to meet the hooded man at the well. By the time she got there, she no longer felt like her skull had been split open, and her mind was crystal-clear.
Within an hour, the hooded man arrived with a leather bag that he was quick to hand over.
“Here,” he said, “Ten-thousand, as promised.”
Emma smiled. “Pleasure doing business with you, sir.” She put the money in her satchel. “So,” she said, “how would you suggest I get into this ball? I’m the furthest thing from a noble.”
The man pulled back his hood. “You’ll be accompanying me,” he said, “My name is Sir Robert of Locksley, and tonight, you will be my darling wife, Lady Elspeth.”
Emma arched an eyebrow. “Seriously? Elspeth?”
“There are lots of noble women named Elspeth. It’s certainly more distinguished than Emma.”
Emma frowned. “I think my name’s extremely distinguished, thank you very much.”
The man just laughed. “Whatever. We need to find you a proper dress for the ball. You can’t waltz in looking like, well, like you.”
“Ugh, I’m already wishing I hadn’t agreed to this. I hate dresses.”
“It’s just for a few hours. By the end of the night, the Queen will be taken care of, and you will be free to do as you please.”
Oh, if only it were that easy.