"Another evening, another late, lone dinner for me," Rupert sighed. For the third time this week Mythraine was late in coming home from work, and it was only Wednesday!
This really wasn't like her, Rupert mused as he stood by the entrance of the caverns him and his dragon wife called home. Staring at the capital city of Rivenwood he kept hoping to watch her majestic, giant outline take to the skies to hurry back to him; but, despite the setting sun still bathing everything in a brilliant, crimson light the human knight saw no sign of his beloved dragoness. All he saw was the city he once called his home.
That was, until he felt the ground shake — ever-so-gently — with a rhythm he recognized. Rupert turned to his left and lowered his head down towards the treacherous path leading up the mountain. Trees shook in tune with the vibrations the human felt.
Rupert watched his wife trudge from the treeline to the foot of the mountain; her large scaly body shifting the trees she brushed by with her head hanging low. Though her face was the perfect semblance of a dragon's indifferent and cold stare, Rupert could tell Mythraine was down in the dumps. Perhaps something happened at work?
Whatever it was, Rupert did not want to assault his wife with questions the second she reached their dwelling's entrance, so he made his way back to the main chamber, where they slept and ate. It had been quite some time since the two shared an actual dinner, in all honesty. Mythraine's job kept her fed well enough most days; the ongoing war made sure of that.
Mythraine had taken up the job of a euthanist: she consumed those who could no longer bear the burden of being alive and wished to end it. Though initially confused by the proposal it was ultimately something that Mythraine found helpful both financially and nutritionally. Much as it shamed Rupert his funds as mere knight weren't really enough to keep his beloved dragoness comfortable and well-fed. Mythraine could and would go without food for months at a time, but Rupert knew well how that soured his scaled lover's mood. Not resorting to violence or thievery to keep her happy was like a god-send to the two. Somehow it also didn't bother him that Mythraine was eating other humans. At least ever since things between the two had become serious Mythraine had shown great care in which humans she consumed.
While cattle or other domesticated animals were a better and more filling meal — especially since they were something Rupert could safely eat with his wife — the price and availability of that source of food simply were not viable.
A morbid stroke of luck, Rupert called the fact that the lands suffered from overpopulation and a large chunk of people who could not even get by as beggars. As Rupert heard his wife approach the main chamber where he eagerly awaited her, he pretend-busied himself with dusting some furniture the dragoness had carefully carved from solid stone.
It was all too obvious that Rupert's actions were a ruse, he knew that. But from the tone of his wife's voice he could tell it did something to put her somewhat at ease. He could hear a faint smile as she cooed "I know I'm not quiet when I walk; you don't have to pretend you did not hear me, Rupy." in that melodic, bassy voice of hers.
From the vibrations Rupert felt in his ribs he could tell Mythraine's head was only a few feet from him. He dropped the feather duster and turned suddenly to wrap his arms as far around his gargantuan, scaled lover's face. She answered his embrace with a content snort, followed by a gentle puff of smoke from her nostrils as she nuzzles her husband's chest. They remained like this for a long, lovely moment before a kiss on Mythraine's snout signaled the end of their embrace.
"Can't fool you, can I?" Rupert chuckled, putting all of his love into every syllable he uttered, his hands gliding across the slick scales of his wife's snout and cheeks. "Let's do away with silly word games, then, my love. I've been worried sick for you. Something has been gnawing at your heart for quite some time now."
Mythraine's loving gaze slowly grew more somber as Rupert said this. Before answering her human lover, the gargantuan dragoness strode to their bed and made herself comfortable; a flick of her wing motioning for Rupert to join her.
The human knight took his usual place close by his wife's large snout, his hand brushing along he rim of her head-sized nostril by instinct. The two stared at each other before Mythraine spoke up.
"It's...pathetic, really. Not really worth talking about," the grand dragoness muttered, the unease and sadness in her voice making it clear that whatever troubled her was anything but. Rupert simply shook his head and kissed his wife's cold, scaly cheek before turning to face her giant, left eye. "Hey, I said we'd do away with the word games. Come now, what troubles you, love?"
The gargantuan dragoness shook her body, shifting her head slightly as she huffed a frustrated puff of flame; a safe distance from her beloved human husband, of course. "Oh, Rupy," she finally began, "I feel so bad eating people who feel like they have nothing left to live for. I feel like there should be a better way to deal with the trouble these people are going through, even if I am able to benefit from their plight. Actually, that last part is what irks me most."
Rupert ruminated over this revelation. It was the first time his wife had ever spoken about such moral qualms with her feeding arrangement, and, from what he could tell this was a genuine, if metaphorical, thorn in the side of his beloved dragoness. When Mythraine tilted her head slightly, jostling Rupert, he broke out of his deep contemplation and gave his wife a sympathetic smile.
"You know, before you offered your services those poor people had jumped from roofs and committed crimes to have the headsman take care of them," Rupert explained, "They weren't able to simply, well, 'take care' of themselves by their own hands. So they externalized their despair and worsened the suffering of others."
The dragoness let out a long, raucous sigh as she carefully moved one of her powerfull forelegs to caress her husband with a tender claw. "I know, Rupy. You told me all this before. I just feel like I'm replacing one evil with another. Some of the ones that 'go out' through me have relatives that didn't want them to go. They try and toss rotten food at me to express their disgust with what I do. And I don't think I can blame them." Mythraine's eyes slitted, almost fully shutting as she turned her gaze to the ground, tears welling in her reptillian eyes.
"Come on now, Mythraine," Rupert cooed, getting up to wipe away his wife's tear before it fell. "They are simply grieving and in pain. It's hard to accept the departure of a loved one, no matter how it happens. If you didn't aid them they would most likely die a slow, painful and miserable death from assured starvation."
The giant, powerful dragoness squirmed and carefully pressed her human husband close to her as she whimpered "I-I know... I know all that, it's just... I feel so powerless. Pathetic, right? I'm a giant dragon; I feel like I should stand above these moral qualms that only humans have, normally. I wish there was something I could do; more than just eating these people to release them from their mortal coils. Something less monstrous, perhaps... I don't know..."
Rupert