Haley Thistle
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Shorty and the Beast: Part Five (complete)
🕑 Added 2021-04-20 19:00:03 +0000 UTC
Female Main Character x Male Monster (both cis)
The beginning of our story, after all this time, is finally told here. Around the height of Kyairil’s power and influence, he had been the right hand of the drow queen, in the area now known as Charbagne. He was a powerful draconian magician, and she enjoyed the power he exuded. She also enjoyed his beauty, so she made him her lover as well. Being young and tempestuous, Kyairil reveled in all this attention and power. As the queen’s lover he had all sorts of freedoms and allowances, and he bragged he could get away with murder. He grew to love his Queen in a way some people might call worship. But then she got sick.
It happened slowly, almost unnoticeably. She started taking medicine to ease the pain she was in, and her mind and body were affected, making her lash out with horribly unpredictable mood swings. She was becoming miserable in her slow decline and inflicting misery on others. She still clung to Kyairil, and relied on him more and more as her sickness progressed. But it was Kyairil’s vanity, not affection, that kept him by her side. He didn’t want to give up the luxury he had grown so dependent upon, but he also had a hard time being around his queen.
Eventually the queen couldn’t leave her bed. She struggled daily with ordinary tasks. Every day Kyairil heard the death battle from her room, and though she called for him he refused to enter. He feared what she had become, and what could easily happen to him. He feared losing her, if only for the fact he’d lose what he thought meant most to him. He wasn’t ready to look at himself beyond his own reflection.
One day, he was forced into the queen’s chambers upon her command. She lay in bed, shriveled, unrecognizable and barely breathing. She looked up at Kyairil and raised her hand to touch his face. He wanted to recoil, but he stayed still, letting her bony hand with sagging skin caress him. She smiled at him, reliving fond memories that they had shared together. “My magician,” she wheezed. “I need you now more than ever.”
Kyairil took her hand and moved it away from his face, clutching it so she wouldn’t try to touch again. “I am here now, my queen. Ask me for anything, and I will give it to you.”
Her breath rattled again. “You once told me of a potion that enabled a beautiful death.”
His body grew tense, and he nodded. “It’s very hard to come by, and even more difficult to make.”
“Good. I don’t want it. I’m not beautiful anymore.” The queen had to take long breaks to breathe between her words. “But I do want something that will end me all the same. The others won’t let me, but you…” She smiled again. “You will let me die, won’t you?”
The hair on the back of his neck stood on end. “My queen, you could recover.”
“I’ll feel better when I’m dead, you piece of shit.” She grabbed his collar while his defenses were down, and yanked on him with a strength he wasn’t prepared for. “You were a good fuck, a pretty face. You saw me that way too.” She coughed in his face. “You owe me for all I did for you. Your dick wasn’t enough, no matter what you think.” She croaked out a laugh.
He yanked away from her, fixing his shirt, although a button was missing. “Fine,” he huffed. “You caught me. So what do you want? How do you want to die? In your sleep? Shitting yourself? Perhaps I should fashion a lever that will send you to hell?”
She cackled. “I’m already in hell.”
He glared down at her. “So tell me, how do you want to die?”
She smacked her mouth a few times. “I want to go in battle.”
That was unexpected. Kyaril stared down at her, brow furrowed and lips parted. “You want to fight to the death?”
“I can’t do much, but I can try.”She reached up to touch him again, and he yanked away. “If you do this for me, I will give you the key to my personal vault and everything inside will be yours.”
“I thought you said that was a rumor.”
She smiled. “I can lie, can’t I?”
He sat back again, pondering this. “They’ll suspect something.”
“They know I want to die, but they won’t get their hands dirty.” She had tears forming in her eyes. “I just want to fucking die. I want to have the death I always planned. Please!”
“I…” Kyairil’s voice cracked. “Are you sure this will be okay?”
She grabbed him by the throat, and in response he struggled, pulling away from her and striking her hand away. She crawled after him, moving more than she had in months. She clawed at his chest, and he pushed her back down into the bed, his hands around her throat. She was smiling, struggling. She coughed up blood and spit it on him. He reeled back, falling onto the floor. Panicked, he pushed her chest, trying to get her to breathe. He became covered in blood, and so did the bed. He was crying. And then the queen’s daughter walked into the room.
He was locked away in his chambers, and they said he would be punished accordingly depending on whether she lived or died. He sat on his bed, shaking and staring at the blood on his hands. For a few days, he waited in silence and the cold. Perhaps she would live, he thought. But by the new moon, her eldest daughter came and pronounced his punishment. Death wasn’t good enough for him. He needed something worse, something that would make him suffer.
For a while, his prison hung above the throne. But when the drow were run out of Charbagne, he was thrown away. He was later found but cast aside again when he reached out for help. Sealed in wax and wrapped in a leather bag, he was placed in the river, and luckily he never floated out to sea as intended. Instead he sank to the bottom, trapped between stones, and there he waited until a giant slobbering mastiff thought he was a toy.
Roslile saved him, although he took that for granted. Now, he realized what having her be the one to save him meant. He didn’t just want his freedom anymore, he wanted a life with her. He wasn’t ready to say that until he knew he could be free for good. Now that they were in Raksahsa Country, he was eager to say it out loud to her.
Himank gave Roslile royal treatment once they arrived. Noodle was treated like a king, allowed to run and play in the royal gardens. Roslile was given time to rest in her lavish chambers, but she wanted to go home, to fulfill her promise to Kyairil. All she needed was to meet with Queen Mythri.
Eventually, an audience was arranged, and Roslile was taken to Mythri’s solarium. She sat in the warm, sunlit room, gazing out at the garden just beyond the glass. Outside, Noodle stopped in a sunny patch and flopped over, wagging his tail happily. Roslile kept her hand on the halberd, nervous to finally meet her idol.
“It’ll be okay. You saved the life of her son, and she will probably adore you,” Kyairil said. “Don’t be so nervous.”
“I can’t help it. I’ve adored Queen Mythri for long! And now I actually get to talk to her!” she exclaimed in disbelief. “What if I offend her? What if she doesn’t like me?”
Kyairil laughed. “How could she not like you?”
“I’m sorry!” a gentle voice called out. “I hope I didn’t keep you waiting, but I had to get him out of bed.” In Mythri walked, arm in arm with her husband. Roslile gazed up at her, awed by how lovely she was, and even more impressed by the soft smile on her face. It was her! Queen Mythri, the living goddess.
She welled up instantly, overflowing, and turned away quickly, trying to cover up her reaction. “Just a second!” Roslile whimpered. “I’m so sorry!”
Mythri sat beside her on the sofa and placed a hand on the small of her back. “Come now, it’s alright.”
“I’ve wanted to meet you for so long,” Roslile hiccuped. “You don’t know what this means to me.”
“You saved my baby. I should be the one crying.” Mythri chuckled. “You risked your life for us, and I owe you more than a meeting.”
Roslile sniffled, finally looking into her face. Mythri had such lovely, deep skin, and wide eyes that looked so warm and soothing. She was older than Roslile had imagined. She had expected her to remain eternally youthful because she was a goddess.
Mythri mopped up Roslile’s face, then wrapped her in a warm hug. “I’m so happy to meet you, Roslile. I’m honored.” Roslile sputtered, unsure how to react.
“Try being married to her,” Amit joked.
Mythri smirked at him. “He wanted to meet you ,too. We’ve both been amazed by your story, Roslile. If there is anything we can do for you, ask us. We’d be happy to fulfill any favor you need.”
This was it, her chance to ask the goddess to free Kyairil. She took up the halberd, and for a second Amit flinched as if to protect Mythri, but Mythri tapped his leg to keep him seated.
Roslile breathlessly bowed her head. “My friend - he’s cursed into this weapon.” She extended it to Mythri. “I don’t need anything at all. I just want to go home. But… if you could use your powers to free him, I’d never ask you for anything ever again.”
“I...” Mythri looked confused and saddened. She took the halberd in her hands as a look of guilt crossed her face. “Is there something I should say? What can I do to free him?”
Roslile looked up again, unsure how to take Mythri’s expression. “You’re a goddess… Can’t you do something?”
Mythri wanted to be struck by lightning. It pained her to see Roslile’s expression, to hear the pain in her voice. “I’m not,” she said softly. “That’s a story the people tell. I’m so sorry, but I’m only human.”
Her chest ached as Roslile’s expression succumbed to grief. How could it end like this? She traveled all this way just for Mythri. She knew for certain Mythri could help her. “Oh...” She took the halberd back, and Mythri placed her hands over hers. “It’s okay,” Roslile trembled.
“I’m so sorry. I don’t know what to do.”
Roslile’s tears fell on the halberd. She didn’t know what to say. She had put all her effort onto this moment, and now it felt like failure. Everything had hinged on Mythri, and now she felt so guilty. To Mythri, to Kyairil - she didn’t know how to make it up to them. “Because of her, we have the information we need that could save the entire world from Sanguis Rex,” Amit said gently. “We owe her something. Surely there is someone who can help her with her request.”
Roslile stood up. “It’s okay. I just…” she whimpered.
“Sit down,” Amit replied. “We have liches with us, and perhaps they would be capable of doing something to help you.”
Mythri put her arm around Roslile. “We will do what we can, I promise. We will help your friend.” She let Roslie lean against her, holding her like a mother would. “It’s okay.”
“Don’t,” Kyairil whispered. “Please, don’t be this upset. Roslile, it’s not your fault. Really, it isn’t. Let’s go back to our room. I want to talk to you.”
Roslile sniffled and rubbed her eyes. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to crack like that.” She stood up. “Let me go freshen up and calm down before I talk again.”
“How about supper?” Mythri suggested. “We’ll receive you in our quarters so we can discuss this further.”
Roslile nodded. “Thank you. That sounds nice.”
After making her escape to her room, she lay in the giant bed with the halberd by her side. “Don’t feel this way,” Kyairil’s voice wavered. “I am imprisoned for a reason. You’ve done everything to get here. Risked your life. Saved the world. And what have I done?”
“You’ve made me strong,” Roslile murmured. “You’ve made me feel capable.”
“But in support of lies. Roslile, I want to tell you the truth.”
She turned and looked to the blade, seeing him inside it. “What do you mean?”
“I haven’t told you why I’m here or what I’ve done.” He swallowed and pressed his hands over his face. “I thought it wouldn’t matter when I was freed. But now it does.” He took a shuddering breath. “I killed someone that I loved.”
Roslile sat up, her brow furrowing.
“She was my queen, and for a time I did love her. But it was a selfish love, and when she grew ill…” He stopped himself.
“Why did you kill her?” Roslile asked with uncertainty.
“She was sick, and she asked me to. But I was angry. She offered me a fortune. When I realized what I was doing, I tried to save her. I really did! But…” His voice faded. “I deserve to be trapped. I was selfish and greedy, and all I did was use and hurt others. Look where I am!” He started to laugh. “It’s okay if I’m never free. I still got to meet you.”
“You’re not that person anymore,” Roslile said gently. “It’s been long enough, and you deserve to be free and have that second chance.”
“I’m sorry I led you on. This whole trip was my fault.”
“I’m not mad about that,” Roslile huffed. “This trip was hard, and more than I expected. But it was my own stubbornness that made me go forward. Not just you. We’re here now. We’re together. That’s worth it, isn’t it?”
Kyairil was stunned. “Yeah,” he finally choked out. “It is.”
“What’s the use in looking back?” Roslile lay back down beside the halberd. “I’m glad you told me what happened. But from the sound of things, it wasn’t your fault. Not entirely.”
“If I ever get free, you’re going to be in trouble,” he tried to laugh. “My little dove.”
Roslile closed her eyes and tried to picture him lying beside her, his long hair spilled over the pillows and dark skin glimmering in the dim light. “Why do you call me a bird all the time?”
She could feel his fingers brush against her cheek. “Because you’re small,” he breathed. “And because you’re free.”
She leaned in to kiss him, but found nothing but air. She sniffled and smiled for him. “I thought you were teasing me all this time.”
“Oh, I was. But I was being sappy as well,” he chuckled. “I can do both.”
“Ugh, how sweet.”
Roslile sat up in alarm, readying the halberd before her. Across the room, she saw something big and green glowing in the corner. She swallowed hard as the ghostly creature stood and approached her. “Don’t look so surprised!” he laughed. “I’m a lich, so this is kind of what I do.” He laid his skeletal hand on his chest. “Allow me to introduce myself. I am Theodred, the emerald lich, and I have come at behest of my dearest friend, Mythri.”
“Holy oats,” Roslile murmured.
Theodred guffawed. “How cute! Been awhile since I saw halflings. Scared them all away in my youth. Apologies, by the way. Hope you all are happy wherever you ran away to.”
Roslile looked him up and down. He glowed green and wore extravagant clothing, and parts of him looked to be made of emeralds, his skeletal hands and skull-like head. He looked like something from a nightmare, but he talked like an asshole. “I can’t feel much, but I can feel him,” Kyairil whispered.
“Speak up sonny, I’m not as young as I used to be.” Theodred cupped his hand around where his ear might have been.
“You can hear him?” Roslile gasped.
“Magic is my thing. I’m living breathing magic in a dead old body.” He patted his own shoulders. “I’m much more attuned to these magical forces than others, so yeah, I can hear your little boyfriend. Now hand him over.” He thrust out his hand before himself and wagged his fingers. “Gimmie.”
“What are you going to do?” Roslile asked, holding the halberd back.
“I’m going to turn him into candy. What do you think I’m going to do? I’m going to try and free him!”
Roslile perked up and offered the halberd over. “Really? You think you can?”
Theodred took the halberd and looked it over. “Well, I’m going to try. Ah, drow magic, I see. Shouldn’t be too hard, although it has been a while. You comfortable in there, boy?”
Kyairil scoffed. “Not at all.”
“Ah, then this won’t hurt a bit.” Theodred broke the halberd over his knee, snapping the metal blades in half.
Roslile screamed as the metal hit the ground. “What have you done?”
“What?” Theodred dusted off his clothes. “What did you think was going to happen?”
She fell to the floor, trying to pick up the shards of metal. “No! No, no, no,” she whimpered. “Kyairil! Kyairil!” she screamed.
A hand took her shoulder, but she took it for Theodred and punched him right in the gut. “Ow!” Kyairil doubled over. “Your first time touching me… I’ll remember it.”
Roslile lost her breath. She dropped the metal and clutched her hands around her mouth. “It’s you!”
He smiled as he knelt. “Poppy trained you too well. That punch really killed.” He brushed his hands over her face and ran his fingers through her hair. “Finally,” he whispered.
Roslile bounced up, kissing him hard enough to knock their teeth together. She clung tightly to him, not wanting him to go anywhere. “You’re welcome,” Theodred scoffed. “Kids these days.”
