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By Eva Captijn - Year 10, Blue Mountain College
His hand stroked the hilt of his sky-blue sword, the blade glowing with hope and courage.
His back was dripping with sweat underneath his light coat of silver white armour.
It was still too heavy for the occasion, but without it, he would surely fall.
No, Aredhel was not stupid, but his bravery would once come to choose his fate.
The heavy marble beam he was leaning against was hot to the touch, due to the dragon's burning blue fire.
He was located in its den, a dark red cave, centred under the green Beor Mountains.
The space was enormous, and the floor was covered in a shining layer of gold.
The patterned walls had claw marks on them, no less than 10 metres long and a metre wide, dug deeply into the compacted dirt.
It made Aredhel realise just how big the dragon really was.
The dragon itself was beyond description, its wings being no smaller than the roof of the Elven Palace.
But what attracted Aredhel's attention the most, was the girl.
She was settled between the massive legs of the dragon, her face completely calm.
Her long brown hair laid perfectly on her small shoulders, though it couldn't have been brushed in a long time, for she had been down here for many miserable months.
She had high cheekbones, which outlined her perfect eyes like a frame would to a painting.
Her mouth was red as blood, which strangely matched her pale smooth, near-white skin.
There was the girl he had known for most of his action-packed life.
From what Aredhel could see, she was wearing a short green top, with a brown corset overtop.
Her legs were bare and only half-way covered with a dirty green skirt.
She appeared to be asleep, in perfect harmony, as if there was not a monstrous nightmare dragon, curling his metres-long tail around her fragile and perfect body, growling at the scent of an intruder.
The thought of him holding her, walking into the palace, and saving his love for the king, who had promised anything for the retrieval of his daughter, made him blush.