The dragon was big. Naturally, of course, but Alex was surprised by just how much it towered over her, a fortress of scales that pulsed in time with deep breaths. 

Alex quivered.

“Tell me…” the dragon said, its voice the slow rumble of thunder. “Explain to me why I should not just eat you.”

Alex thought a moment. “Well, I probably don’t taste very nice.”

“Humans rarely do. Humans very rarely do. And yet it stops them stealing from me.”

Alex was not there to steal from the dragon. 

She was not a bandit seeking riches, nor a knight looking for glory, nor a princess proving she was just as good as any man. 

Alex was there because she drank too much ale and got lost on the way home from the tavern. 

“There are other ways to stop people stealing from you,” she offered, doing her best to ignore the wisps of smoke that drifted from the creature’s jaws. “Maybe you could just scare them off.”

“I have tried this. The thieves return, and they return with allies. No, eating them is the solution to the problem.”

“Okay, true, but I’m sure there’s an even better solution. Maybe if we think real hard together we’ll figure something out.”

The dragon gave a puff and acrid smoke billowed over Alex. Her eyes watered, but she managed to resist the urge to cough. The dragon rested its head on its crossed forelegs. “You are an … odd individual.”

“I think I’m still a bit drunk,” Alex admitted.

“Humans.” A noise emanated from the dragon, a noise that sounded suspiciously like tutting. “You are the only intelligent species I know of that makes itself less intelligent for fun.”

The lair glowed gold around them, the sum of thousands of coins piled in heaps around the dragon. Most were congregated beneath and around it, like the straw-bedding a pet dog might sleep on.

A thought occurred to Alex.

“If you let me live, you could be my pet.”

There was an empty silence for a moment as the sparkling refuse absorbed her voice — and then the dragon unfurled and stood and rose to its full height, its serpentine head held high. 

“I am over six thousand years old.” Its already thundering voice somehow got even louder and the booming of it shook Alex’s insides. “I have seen civilisations rise and fall. I have consumed countless thousands of souls. I have spoken words with the Almighty himself and found him to my contempt.” 

To Alex, nothing existed — no lair, no gold, no outside world — except for that voice. “I am Behemoth, and I am no thing’s pet.”

“Okay. Well, I could be your pet, then?”

Another moment of silence, and then this time the dragon — Behemoth, it’d said its name was — lowered itself, its body coiling back in on itself. Amber eyes peered in close. “I have never had a pet before.” For the first time, its voice was quiet.

“You’ve been missing out.”

“What does one do with a pet?”

“Not eat it, for a start.”

Behemoth seemed thoughtful, its red scales flashing in the golden glow with each deep breath it sucked in. The smoke had stopped drifting from its mouth. Wings — huge, black canvases that awed Alex — slowly unfurled and stretched as far as they could in the cramped lair. “Very well. I shall adopt you as my pet. And I shall name you Fluffy.”

“I already have a name,” Alex said. “It’s Alex.”

“And now it is Fluffy. I believe it suits you.”

Alex looked down at herself in alarm. “It does?”

“I can place some gold in the corner for you to sleep on. I will catch a cow or a horse or a farmer each day for you to eat.” Behemoth spoke fast, each word edged with excitement. “You will be quite comfortable, I think.”

“Behemoth, that’s real kind of you, but I can’t live like that. I can’t sleep on gold or eat farmers. I need human food, and water, and a human home.”

Behemoth hesitated and then seemed to shrink into himself. “Of course. How presumptuous of me.” His wings drooped. “I am not sure I could fit a human home in here.”

“The pet thing was just a suggestion. Maybe it wouldn’t work. It’s okay.”

“No. I am sorry. I should have realised a human cannot live like an Immortal. I got … caught up with myself.”

Alex shuffled her feet in the ensuing awkward silence, bit her lip, and then said, “Are you going to eat me now?”

Behemoth had gone back to resting his head on his front legs. He let out a smokey sigh. “No.”

“So, I can go?”

“You may go, if it pleases you.”

Alex turned to go, guilt sitting in her stomach like a pebble. It was a silly feeling, she knew, and maybe it was fuelled by alcohol more than anything, so best she didn’t do anything rash about—

“Want to come with me?” she found herself saying.

Behemoth looked up.

“I mean,” she continued, “I don’t know where you’d stay, or what you’d eat, or how I’d stop people from trying to kill you, or nothing like that. So maybe it’s just another silly idea.”

“It may be possible. I have methods by which to pass without much notice.”

Alex looked up at the dragon. “Not meaning to be offensive, Behemoth, but you have … big bones. I don’t see how you could pass without an awful lot of notice.”

“Behold.” White light burst from Behemoth’s eyes, and then his mouth, and then from between the thousands of scales that covered his body. He became a blazing star, fierce and radiant. Even with her eyes shut and face covered, Alex released a gasp of pain.

And then it was all over and Behemoth was gone, replaced by a sudden void.

Alex shook her head to return her distorted eyesight to normal.

“I apologise,” a voice said, “I should have warned you.” The voice had the same deep baritone as Behemoth’s but lacked the intense volume. 

And, bizarrely, it came from the floor.

“That’s okay,” Alex said and shook her head again. As her eyesight fizzled back into existence she could see that although, yes, the massive bulk of Behemoth was gone, perched on the gold was a tiny dragon looking up at her.

“As I said, I have my methods.”

“You need to teach me how to do that,” Alex said.

“If you give up alcohol, I will consider it.”

Alex nodded, and then realised this was actually happening. A dragon was coming home with her. Hundreds of doubts flooded her thoughts. She pushed them aside for now.

Behemoth gave a squeak and took to the air. “Aaaah, it feels good to fly again.” He did a quick few laps around Alex’s head.

“What about your gold? Who’ll look after it whilst you’re away?”

Behemoth landed on her shoulder. He barely weighed anything. “I have … methods by which to hide it.”

Alex decided not to doubt him.

Outside the lair, the rising sun painted the sky red and gold, and farmers’ fields and dense woodland spread as far as Alex could see, punctuated only briefly by the occasional village. 

She swallowed a deep breath, savouring the crisp morning air, and glanced at Behemoth perched on her shoulder. 

He really was adorably small.

“So,” Alex said, “it’s time to go home. To my home. You know, I think you’ll like it there.”