Dragonborn: Mated to the Dragon king

King Rodric sat at his usual place in the council chamber, looking deeply troubled. It was the night of a grim occasion, the eve of the Morveth. This was a dreadful time for the kingdom of Eldoria because it was a time for the king and his people to face hard choices and make difficult sacrifices.

The Morveth, or 'Death Pledge,' was a grim promise forged by Eldoria's ancestors to the Dragonborns. Two thousand years ago, these otherworldly beings, wielding unimaginable power, descended from the fiery realm of Phoenix to oppress mankind.

They craved Earth's rich treasures: food, fertile lands, minerals, and precious resources. With their terrifying ability called Dragonfire, they easily subdued the world's emperors, kings, and rulers.

Fearing destruction and consumption by the relentless flames of the Dragons, these leaders surrendered their crowns and territories, enslaving their people to ensure their own survival. They became subjugated to the Dragons, enduring countless years of suffering under their cruel reign.

For centuries, the Dragonborns crushed any resistance. Brave leaders who dared to oppose them were turned to ash and scattered by the winds. As their power expanded, the last unyielding stronghold of humanity remained—Eldoria, a thriving kingdom in northern Europe.

The ancestors of Eldoria were both brave and wise. Aware that they could not defeat the Dragonborns, the reigning king at the time proposed a grim agreement. Every decade, Eldoria would offer fifty young and healthy individuals as sacrifices, along with a rare mineral resource called Drakoryte, mined from beneath their land. The Dragonborns accepted this arrangement, agreeing to spare Eldoria.

This harrowing bargain had preserved Eldoria for generations, but it came at a heavy price. Now, it was time to fulfill that ancient promise once more.

The Drakoryte had already been mined by strong, capable men. The conditions were harsh and deadly, but the work had to be done. But, the real tragedy was the mourning of Eldorians who were about to lose their sons and daughters.

"Your Majesty, the families for the offering have been selected," a councilman announced, breaking the tense silence.

King Rodric sat in silence for a moment before slowly lifting his weary eyes.

"Let me see the list," he said hoarsely.

The councilman handed him a scroll. Rodric unrolled it, scanning the names with a gaze full of sorrow. Rows of sleepless nights had etched lines of anguish into his face.

"These families were chosen after the recent census, Your Majesty," the councilman added. "None have offered anyone in over fifty years."

"Good," Rodric replied, his tone heavy. "Gather them tonight and bring them to the palace. They will rest in comfort and dine on whatever they desire, for this will be their last night to live well."

The councilman bowed in agreement.

"Of course, your majesty."

"After the sacrifices are offered, we'll compensate the families with a thousand pieces of silver each."

The councilman bowed again.

"It shall be done, Your Majesty."

Their discussion was interrupted by a guard who entered the chamber and bowed deeply.

"Your Majesty, your daughters await you in the dining hall."

Rodric exhaled deeply. He had nearly forgotten the dinner he promised to share with his children. Rising to his feet, he adjourned the meeting before departing.

At the dining chamber, the twelve princesses sat quietly at their designated seats around the large table as they waited. Aria, seated at the second closest seat to that of the king's, momentarily placed her hand into her dress pocket to feel the dragon's tooth she had picked earlier. She was so fascinated by it that she couldn't put it down for even a moment.

Aria had to hide her treasure because she knew the trouble it would bring. Anything that belonged to the dragons was regarded as an ill omen.

'That dragon must have had a toothache... I can relate.' Aria thought wryly as she felt the tooth one more time.

The chamber doors creaked open, and King Rodric entered. The princesses rose in unison, curtsying.

"Good evening, Father, " they chorused.

Rodric glanced at each of them, his smile forced but affectionate.

"My daughters... It is always good to see you."

"You as well, Father," Sybilla replied warmly, her voice cutting through the heavy air.

Rodric's grin widened.

"Livia... Aria, Helena, Abigail... Kathryn, Anya, Gisela, Hildegard, Elysandre, Wilhemina, Genevieve, Sybilla... You all are looking radiant tonight."

Rodric loved to call his twelve daughters by their names and praise their beauty. It was a ritual he upheld at every meal. The king never had sons, but he was happy and content. (Of course, he had one late wife and multiple mistresses.)

The sisters smiled politely, though some noticed the sadness in their father's eyes.

Rodric settled in his seat and the maids served a lavish ten-course meal—roasted pheasant, spiced lamb, honey-glazed vegetables, wild mushroom soup, and fresh-baked bread amongst others. The air was filled with the pleasant aroma of good food. Goblets were filled halfway with fine wine, and the royal family dined in silence.

When the plates were cleared, Sybilla coughed gently as though signaling Rodric to give his reasons for the meeting after dinner. He understood right away.

"Ah, yes of course," he began, his voice somber. "My daughters, as you know, tomorrow is a dark day for Eldoria."

He paused to gauge their expressions.

"The dragons will cross the border to claim their sacrifice of appeasement. Believe me, this is a burden I wish I didn't have to bear. To give our people to those monsters, knowing they'll never return, is a pain I cannot describe. Yet, to protect our kingdom and preserve mankind, it must be done."

He paused again, letting his words settle. The sisters exchanged uneasy glances.

"Sybilla?" Rodric called, turning to his eldest daughter.

"Yes, Father?"

"I want you to accompany me to the sacrificial grounds tomorrow. At twenty-five, you are old enough to witness this dark ritual. As the future queen of Eldoria, you must understand the cost of our survival before my final days."

Sybilla stared worriedly for a moment, her face pale, but nodded once.

"Yes, Father. I will inform my husband tonight."

"Good." Rodric sighed, his expression darkening. "And one more thing... I received reports that the forest near the borderland of Scalethorne had caught fire. I suspect a dragon is already lurking there, waiting for the sacrifice tomorrow. We must complete the ritual before noon to avoid any complications."

At the mention of the forest fire, Aria and Livia exchanged alarmed glances. They were relieved that no one suspected their earlier mischief.

But they had overestimated their luck.