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It’s not much fun, being held captive in a cave. It’s damp, for one thing, and prone to be drafty. Namjoon doesn’t have anything to keep warm other than a few ratty old blankets. (Of course, if it gets too cold the dragon will usually gather him some wood and start a fire. He’s a dragon, but he’s not a monster. He’s not going to let Namjoon freeze.) For another thing, there’s not much to do in the cave. He watches the path of the sun and moon against the far wall as they make their daily rounds. He does push ups and sit ups. If he’s in a good mood, he tells the bats the old stories, the ones he memorized when he was a boy, the ones he loves. The tellings aren’t good; he doesn’t have his harp any more, and there’s only so many times you can listen to the old sagas before you start to wonder just why everyone was so worked up about a white cow in the first place. Mostly, though, Namjoon thinks about the riddle.Young, bold, and foolish, head filled with dreams of being the most famous bard in all the land, Namjoon had his geas laid on him in a dream: you will climb the mountains and swim the river and answer the dragon’s riddle. It seemed a worthy quest. His name would live on forever in song if he answered the dragon’s riddle and gained the dragon’s secret wisdom. So he climbed and he swam and he trekked and he reached the dragon’s lair. But he could not answer the riddle. The price of failure was his freedom.“I can’t have you going back and telling everyone,” the dragon had said, crossly. “That would ruin everything. You have to stay until you figure it out, or until a thousand years have passed.” Namjoon had frowned. “What if I promise never to tell a living soul?” “Not good enough,” the dragon had said, folding his arms. (He didn’t look like a dragon all the time, of course. He mostly looked like handsome but ill-tempered young man a few inches shorter than Namjoon -- but his eyes were dragon eyes: gold and gleaming with narrow pupils. Dangerous to look into, they said, and so Namjoon tried to keep his eyes averted, but he failed, and the dragon caught and held his gaze, and he was thus trapped.) “Is the answer birth?” Namjoon asked, desperate. The dragon shook his head, looking a little annoyed. “Death?” The dragon shook his head again. “You’ve had your chances. Into the cave with you. Let me know when you’ve figured it out.” That was … well. A long, long time ago. Namjoon isn’t quite sure how long because he stopped keeping count after filling an entire wall of the cave with his neat, tiny, tallies. Long enough that he should be old and wizened by now. Seasons have come and gone and come again, but although he doesn’t have a mirror in the cave, he can see that his hands and arms and chest and body are still those of a young man.Time does funny things when dragons are involved. It is a morning like any other. Namjoon is watching an ant cross the floor of the cave, carying some tiny burdon. The dragon appears at the mouth of the cave, holding the bundle of Namjoon’s food for the day. “Do you have an answer for me today, Namjoon?” he asks, passing the parcel to Namjoon..Namjoon frowns, thoughtful. “Is it the moment you see the moonlight gleam on the fresh snow that falls on the longest night of the year?” “Nice try,” the dragon says, “But nope, that’s not it.” Namjoon sighs. He hadn’t expected that it was. “Don’t get so down,” the dragon says consolingly. “There’s always tomorrow.” “Right,” Namjoon says. “Tomorrow I will solve your riddle.” He tries to sound bold and confident, the way a hero should, but it just comes out kind of depressed. “That’s the spirit!” The dragon says, and then he leaves to go do whatever dragony things he does during the day. Namjoon sits down on the cold sandy floor of his cave and opens the parcel of food. Today he has some nice flatbreads, and a little wheel of soft cheese, and a pear, and some honey. The dragon isn’t a bad host, honestly. He’s eaten much worse in the halls of great lords. He eats half of one of the flatbreads with a bit of the cheese and honey and tucks the rest of the food back inside the bag for later. He does a hundred push ups and a hundred sit ups and then takes off his tunic and washes his hands and face and his chest with some of the water from the skin the dragon brought. He sits back down in his favorite spot -- he can see a bit of the forest outside from here, and it looks like a beautiful afternoon -- and thinks about which story the bats might like to hear. They’re not a very responsive audience, so he has to trust his instincts. He’s debating whether to go with the Lay of the Spiral Castle or the Swan’s Lament when he hears a very unusual noise, a noise he hasn’t heard in any of the countless days and nights he’s spent in the cave. There’s an enormous clinking and clacking, like someone’s rattling a ring of tremendous keys. This grows louder and louder, and then the light from the entrance to the cave dims, and then standing there, silhouetted by the dying evening sun, is a heroic figure clad all in gleaming armor. “Oh,” Namjoon says, puzzled. “Did the dragon send you?” The heroic figure seems to deflate a little. His shoulders slump, and his head bows. He fusses with his helmet for a moment and then tugs it off with a pop.He is not what Namjoon expected. He is young and shorter than Namjoon, for one thing, and handsome, but in a way more pretty than dashing, with delicate features and very pink lips. His light brown hair is all a mess, and his smooth cheeks are flush.“Of course the dragon didn’t send me,” the slightly-less-heroic figure says. “I’m here to rescue you!” Namjoon’s eyes go wide. “Rescue me?” He hadn’t planned on being rescued. The heroic figure nods earnestly. “I’m here to rescue a princess,” he says, frowning. “Um. You don’t happen to be a princess, do you?” Namjoon shakes his head. He doesn’t look much like a princess but it’s been a long time since he’s been in the outside world and things may have changed. “Damn,” the heroic figure says. “What about a prince? Are you a prince? I’m pretty sure my geas said princess but it doesn’t matter to me, honestly.” His eyes are shining and hopeful and Namjoon really feels terrible when he shakes his head. “Not a prince,” he says. “Sorry.” The heroic figure’s face crumples. “I knew it,” he says, sighing. “I knew I shouldn’t have listened to Taehyung. This was such a stupid idea.” He pulls off his gauntlets and throws them down so roughly that Namjoon is worried the stone floor will scratch the brilliantly polished steel. The heroic figure then throws himself down onto the floor, and sits with his knees bent and his head in his hands, looking as dejected as anyone Namjoon has ever seen. A few moments pass. It’s been a long time since Namjoon has had guests, but he hasn’t forgotten his manners. “Um,” he says, “do you want some water? When I was young and I got upset my mother always told me to drink a glass of water.” The heroic figure looks up. “That would be nice,” he says. “Thank you.” He smiles a charming smile. Namjoon hands him the water skin. “I’m Namjoon, by the way,” he says, holding out a hand. “I’m Jimin,” the heroic figure says. Namjoon notices as they shake hands that Jimin’s hands are rather small. It’s cute. “I’m sorry I’m not a princess,” Namjoon says. Jimin looks up. “Oh,” he says in a weary tone of voice. “It’s okay.” He sighs again. “It’s my geas, you see. I have to rescue a princess, but princesses are kind of hard to come by. I met one last month, but she said she wanted to be rescued by someone taller and more dashing.” He sighs and flaps his crimson cloak in a desultory way. “That’s when Taehyung came up with the idea for the cloak. I don’t really think it helped, though.” “I think it’s very dashing,” Namjoon says. “I was really impressed! You fought past the dragon and marched right in here and were prepared to sweep me off my feet. That’s practically the definition of dashing.” Namjoon means to console Jimin, but his words have the opposite effect. His face falls even further. “I didn’t even fight the dragon,” he mumbles. “I think he was out, actually, because I knocked on his cottage door, but no one was at home.” “Oh,” Namjoon says, disgruntled. “Well, it was still a pretty grand entrance. You looked just like a knight from a story!” “Really?” Jimin looks skeptical. Namjoon nods. “Trust me,” he says. “I’m a bard. I know these things.” Jimin’s eyes light up. “You’re a bard?” he asks, with more excitement than he has yet shown. “My friend Taehyung is a bard, too. He’s got a great voice.” He laughs a little. “I’m a swordsman,” he says, “but I always wanted to be …” He shakes his head. “No, it’s too dumb. You’ll laugh.” “What?” Namjoon asks, amused. “You wanted to be what?” “I always wanted to be a minstrel,” Jimin says. “You know, the kind that tumble and sing and juggle, and make people smile and laugh.” His cheeks go red again. “That’s dumb, isn’t it?” Namjoon shakes his head. “I don’t think that’s dumb at all. It’s not too late. Why don’t you find a master? Get yourself apprenticed. Start learning!” Jimin shrugs. “I don’t know,” he says. “My father would be so disappointed, and then there’s the geas. It’s hard enough to save a princess as a knight, let alone as a minstrel.” Right. Save a princess. Solve a riddle. Everyone has a geas: a fate they can’t escape. Not everyone’s hangs so heavy as Jimin’s does. As Namjoon’s does. Jimin looks around for his gauntlets. “I guess I better get going,” he says. “I heard a rumor of a princess being held captive by a giant somewhere to the north.” He sighs. “I hate the cold,” he says, and shivers a little peremptorily. “Why don’t you stay here for tonight?” Namjoon asks. “I don’t get visitors very often, so I’d appreciate the company, and you can rest before you continue your quest.” “You wouldn’t mind?” Jimin asks hesitantly. “I have some supplies on my horse. I’d be more than willing to share in exchange for shelter tonight.” “Of course I don’t mind,” Namjoon says, smiling. “You’d be doing me a favor, honestly.” Jimin’s face softens for a moment, full of some unspoken doubt, but then he sets his chin and nods. “Okay, then,” he says. “I’ll be right back.” It’s the nicest night Namjoon has had in longer than he can remember. Jimin has some dried fish and ale in his bag, and a few winter apples, and combined with Namjoon’s supplies they make a very satisfactory dinner. He also has a flint and some paper to use as tinder, so they start a fire. With the flickering firelight painting the walls, the cave almost feels cozy.After they’ve eaten, after the ale is drunk, they sit by the fire and Namjoon tells Jimin his story. “A riddle?” Jimin asks. His glistening armor is heaped by the mouth of the cave. Without it he seems a bit less heroic but certainly more comfortable and person-sized and much more at his ease. “You’re trapped here because you have to answer a riddle?” Namjoon nods. “It’s my geas,” he says. Jimin whistles. “Yours is tougher than mine,” he says. “I always wish I’d gotten an easy one. My friend Taehyung has a geas that he can’t eat any olives or his hair will fall out.” “Does he like olives?” Namjoon asks, frowning.“Hates them!” Jimin says. “He got off so easily.” They both stare mournfully into the fire for a moment, as if rue whatever vagaries of fate set them both such steep cliffs to climb.“You’ll find your princess,” Namjoon says confidently, after a moment. “I’m sure you will.” “Or prince,” Jimin says, distracted. “You think?” “Or prince.” Namjoon nods. “Of course. You’re the perfect knight in shining armor. Any princess or prince would be proud to have such a handsome, brave knight come to their rescue.” Jimin smiles, soft and sweet. “Thank you, Namjoon,” he says. “You’ll solve your riddle, too. You’re so smart. I bet you’ll have it solved in no time.” He hesitates. “What is it, anyway? I’m not very good with riddles but …” Namjoon sighs. He knows the words as well as he knows his mother’s name. “It’s this: What is the most beautiful moment in life?” Jimin wrinkles his nose, perplexed. “That’s it?” “Yeah,” Namjoon says. “Weird, right? Dragons.” “Weird,” Jimin agrees. “You’ll solve it though. I know you will.” The confidence is touching, but Namjoon thinks of all the long, lonely days and nights he’s spent in this cave, long years he’s spent alone searching for the answer to this question to which he’s devoted his entire life. He’s thought of every good and beautiful thing in the world, and even dreamt up some things that are entirely new, and still he doesn’t have the answer. “I hope you’re right,” he says.Namjoon gives Jimin one of his two tattered blankets, but it is a cool night and there is not enough wood to keep the fire going, and they lie in the dark and shiver on the cold stone until Jimin says, in a high, nervous voice, “It would be a lot warmer if we slept beside each other, and shared the blankets.” It is a lot warmer that way, with Jimin’s back to Namjoon’s front, with Jimin close enough that Namjoon can smell the earthy, musky sweet scent of him. Their toes brush. Jimin’s are ice cold.“What do you want to do?” Jimin asks, after they have lain silent in the darkness together for too long. “Hmm?” Namjoon isn’t sure what he means. “After you solve the riddle,” Jimin says. “What do you want to do?” Namjoon frowns. After he solves the riddle? For so long, the riddle has been everything. The riddle, and the cave, and the dragon, and his curse. He remembers, vaguely, wanting to travel, before his geas had been laid on him, but everything from that time is so fuzzy and long-ago now. Nothing about it seems real, and the idea that he might do anything after solving the riddle seems absurd and terrifying, like considering what would happen after the sun crossed the sky the wrong way. “Travel, I think. See the world. Learn more songs.” Namjoon doesn’t sound sure, though, not even to himself. “I think those are wonderful dreams,” Jimin says drowsily. “I guess so,” Namjoon says. “If you don’t like them,” Jimin says, pressing closer to Namjoon, “you can always find a new dream.” Those are sweet words, Namjoon thinks, and that’s a sweet idea, but his geas is like a heavy stone tied to his leg, dragging him down. IT feels like the water is closing over his head. He’s not sure how to cut himself free. Morning comes too soon. Namjoon wakes with his face pressed to the back of Jimin’s neck, and his hand resting on Jimin’s waist, and it is too close and too hot and he didn’t intend this. But Jimin doesn’t seem to mind. He’s awake already, and he rolls over and smiles at Namjoon, as bright as sunshine. “Good morning,” he says. “So, I was thinking.” “Oh?” Namjoon asks. Jimin sits up, legs folded. His hair is all mussed. He draws the blanket around himself like a cape. “Maybe I can rescue you anyway,” he says. “I know you’re not a princess or a prince, but I’m sure nobody is going to check your pedigree. And it’s not like the dragon is keeping you here by force or anything, right? I didn’t see any chains. I’m sure he’ll understand.” He grins triumphantly. “If I rescue you and break my geas, I don’t have to be a knight any more. We can travel together, and you can teach me the songs you know, and we’ll find more songs to learn. We can see the whole world.” Namjoon frowns. Just … leave? Let Jimin free him from this dragon’s lair and strike off into the wild, wide, terrible, wonderful world? It sounds so easy when he proposes it, and although they barely know each other something in Namjoon’s heart longs to accept. But he can’t. “But the riddle,” he says, glum. “I can’t leave until I solve it and learn the dragon’s secret wisdom.” “Oh right,” Jimin says, his face falling. “The riddle.” Just then, there’s a noise at the mouth of the cave. The dragon has returned. Jimin jumps to his feet. He grabs his sword from the pile of armor and draws it, and for all his disavowal of his knightly prowess, it sure looks to Namjoon like he knows how to use the thing. He rounds on the dragon, sword at the ready, and his delicate, sweet smile stiffens into something a lot sterner. “I’m here to rescue Namjoon,” he declares. “Stand back, beast, or I’ll have to slay you.” The dragon sighs. He’s not a dragon right now, of course, but a man. He sets down the bundle of food he’s brought, and holds his hands up in a placating gesture. “Can we just not with the sword?” he says tiredly. “I don’t want to get all sliced up, and that sword looks pretty heavy. I’m sure it’s exhausting for you.” Jimin frowns. “Okay,” he says, lowering the sword. “You’re just gonna let me free him, then?” He sounds hopeful. “No can do,” the dragon says, shaking his head. The light catches his hair, which is the same mint color as his scales are when he’s a dragon. “Namjoon’s got to answer the riddle. That’s the rule.” “I don’t care about the rules,” Jimin says, frustrated. “This is dumb. Why can’t he just --” “I’ll answer it,” Namjoon interrupts, feeling something stir in his breast. “Dragon, pose me the question again.” The dragon clears his throat, and in a mockingly grand voice, asks, “What is the most beautiful moment in life?” Namjoon closes his eyes and thinks of all the long hours he’s wasted in pursuit of that answer. He thinks of Jimin waiting, eager and alert, eyes bright. He thinks of the adventures they could have, the long and rich road spreading out before them. There’s all that possibility, and then there’s right now, and Jimin’s tenuous, tremulous hope, and Namjoon’s fear, and the dragon, surly and golden-eyed and waiting. Namjoon walks over to Jimin and takes his hand and laces their fingers together. “The most beautiful moment in life,” he says, “is right now.” The dragon’s eyes flare, and a tiny whorl of smoke rises from his nostrils but the emotion seems to pass quickly. “I knew you’d figure it out eventually,” he says wearily. “Good job, kid.” “You did it!” Jimin says, squeezing his arms around Namjoon. “I knew you could!” Namjoon’s heart is pounding and he feels light as a feather. He’s done it. He’s solved the dragon’s riddle and fulfilled his geas, and now he gets his reward. “So what is your secret?” he asks. “The secret wisdom you guard up here.”The dragon shakes his head. “Don’t you get it? That’s the secret. The answer.” Namjoon feels the bottom drop out of his stomach. “You don’t have some secret wisdom to impart?” The dragon shakes his head again. “Oh,” Namjoon says, and for a moment he feels like the earth is spinning under his feet. But Jimin squeezes his hand, hard. “Let’s go,” he says. “We can find our own wisdom.” They take the bundle of food the dragon has prepared, which he kind offers, and his blessing of good luck, and one of his scales as a proof of their success. (It is cool to the touch and glittery like ice and a very precious thing). Jimin leaves behind his heavy, shining armor, but ties his crimson cape around his shoulders and takes up his sword again. He packs the food in the saddlebags and unties his fine black horse from where he’s been picketed. Namjoon looks back at the cave one more time: sandy floor and rocky ceiling. It doesn’t look like much, and he won’t miss it. His heart is light as they set off down the mountain path that he climbed alone all those long years ago. He’s free. “Does it feel different?” Jimin asks, when they’ve gone a little ways, when the trees are crowding close and dark around them. “What?” Namjoon doesn’t know what he means. “To be free of your geas.” Jimin says. “You answered the dragon’s riddle.” He sighs. “You didn’t need to be rescued at all.”Namjoon reaches for Jimin’s hand again. “But you did,” he says. “You rescued me, Jimin.” Jimin smiles, bashful, and ducks his head, but he squeezes Namjoon’s hand tight and does not let go. ****The dragon -- who is a dragon and has been a dragon for a very long time but was not always a dragon, was a man once -- watches them go until they are so far down the path that they disappear in the indistinct shadows of the forest. He sighs. Another one gone. Another riddle solved. Another chance spent, and he’s left here alone again. There have been many, over the years. Foolish humans come to solve the dragon’s riddle and claim his treasure. It’s not a bad conceit to get people up here. It’s not like he can just go waltz into town; he’s a dragon.He will be a dragon, his geas says, until he willingly gives his heart to another. He’d thought Namjoon might be the one -- but no, Namjoon’s heart belongs to another. The fledgling flames of ardor the dragon saw in the heart of the knight will grow to a bonfire, given time and attention, and if he’s not wrong they will light a fire in Namjoon’s heart in turn.They are together now, and he’s alone. It’s nothing new. It just gets old, is all. How exactly is he supposed to meet people up here? Take out an personal in the local paper? He becomes a dragon again and flies high above the clouds until the frigid air cools his own heart. Then he comes back to his lonely mountain home and curls up to sleep the long, deep sleep of dragons and to dream of a new riddle to test the person who will someday win his heart.