Newly Broke Heroine! [Book One Complete, Cozy Fantasy Adventure]

Fiona woke up the next morning with a grunt of discomfort, as if she'd fallen asleep on something not pillow-like.

The soft snore of a kobold nestled next to her, and one arm wrapped around her torso, indicated that surface was Doug.

Further accentuating this was the massive cat sprawled out on her lower body. Tucker gave off an enormous amount of body heat and purred gently. And, he had Doug's tail under one paw. The cat clearly did not want anyone to get up.

This couch is getting a little too crowded. She did not attempt to move away and scratched behind Tucker's ear, where he made a soft murmur before putting one paw over his eyes, trying to sleep in further.

Fiona let out a soft sigh. She was glad that she kept the shop closed on Sundays. Or Lunaday, as they called it. The day was allegedly named after a giant, slime-like deity with a red eye in the middle.

She pondered if all the gods and goddesses took forms of the various Folk species. Or if they didn't have any restrictions on form? Either way, it was a day to sleep in.

She saw Doug's eyes open narrowly, locked on her. "Hey, good morning," she said softly.

"Morning? It's still dark," he murmured. "The wind picked up, and our snow shower became a storm overnight."

"You were up?"

He nodded softly before resting his head back on the couch cushion. "A little while. I nodded off after the cat stopped trying to smother me."

"You call it smothering, I call it cuddles," she replied with a smirk.

He drew the blanket over his eyes with his free hand, letting out a groan. "He kept me up half the night, with his attempts at 'cuddling.' I am more impressed that you managed to domesticate such a rare and skittish creature, especially a phase cat. They're very shy."

She was surprised he knew what Tucker was to this detail. "He was a survivor of a litter that was attacked in a monster den. Monsters don't attack just folks in the wilds. He's not fully grown yet, but he's a big cat."

The kobold drew the blanket back down, staring at her. "So, right place, right time?"

"Yeah." She propped up on one elbow, feeling his hand still on her torso. She wondered if he'd want to put it elsewhere. "I had a cat back on Earth. It wasn't hard to raise Tucker between Bonnie and me. But my goodness, he wants to eat expensive things. The butcher makes a pretty copper off of me."

"I bet. Your infernal purring is as loud as an automaton, by the way," he accused the feline, pointing one claw at him.

Tucker's response was to glance at him with half-lidded eyes, then flop his head back down and fall asleep. Doug sighed softly. "I wish I could snap asleep like that."

"Don't dragons sleep… a lot? To be fair, I don't think I've read up much on them. From a biological perspective," she added, and felt her cheeks burning when Doug slipped into a knowing grin. "Purely for knowledge."

"Lots of things are studied purely for knowledge."

She sputtered for a retort for a few seconds, then gave up, before flopping down and leaning against his chest. "You know what I meant!"

"It's more fun this way." He winced as he ran his free hand to one wing. "Ooh, I slept on those wrong. That's gonna smart for the morning."

"So how'd you keep your wings anyway? I've seen kobolds without them. Which sounds bizarre." She was surprised she hadn't thought of it sooner.

"Well…I have a few theories. Theory one: Glados' spell couldn't do a full polymorph. Two, some dragons and kobolds…uh…well, you know, common ancestry. And some of that lineage may come from my father, who was born in Cepalune. He was always a small dragon, in retrospect."

"Do I ask how that happens?" she asked nervously.

"In a word? Very carefully. Keep in mind: many of the Folk species are compatible. Dragons can assume a human form. That makes certain aspects…easier."

"I think I can skip this cutscene that is definitely not playing in my head." Doug snickered softly, even after she utilized the elven glare of doom. "Oh, you must find this fun, huh?"

"Yes, the 'elf out of water' is quite amusing." He glanced at her, then at the cat, slowly regaining his composure. "Guess I'm not getting up for a while. The cat has us both pinned."

"Mrrr." Tucker didn't even turn his head to give his response.

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She took that as her sign to settle in, with Doug looking content to lie back, once he shifted his wings. "Ah, that's better. Having wings does have a few minuses. You need the right kind of bed setup. Dragons sleep on their side, most of the time. And rarely do they have elf maidens in bed."

"So…have you…you know…" she trailed off. She'd never envisioned Doug with a lady friend.

Why hadn't she?

"I think, based on that awkward pause, you were wondering if I've sought companionship before?" He glanced skyward before settling on her again. "Then, yes. But nothing that stuck the landing. There was this one dragoness, quite a lovely scarlet-scaled beauty, and she was endearing. That was…oh, say, about a year ago."

"So what happened?"

Fiona was surprised to hear an indignant grunt from him. "She complained I set my sights too low with a peat fertilizer industry. She also said that I smelled like a bog."

Fiona took a deep inhale, and Doug froze mid-sentence as she let out an exaggerated exhale. "Nah. I think she was lying. Though you do smell faintly like…a campfire. It's a fond memory for me."

Doug let out a slight sigh of relief. "I assure you, I bathe and groom on a routine basis. Any smell of something charred is quite incidental."

Fiona grinned and ran a finger through his feather crest. "Nonsense, it's a great scent! Like I most undoubtedly smell like… well, cinnamon, I suppose."

"I had noticed," he said dryly. He stretched out his wings gently, with the feathers tickling Tucker briefly. The feline refused to rise from his position. "So, since we may be snowed in a bit…breakfast?"

Fiona let out a sound of delight and wrapped her arms around his neck. "Yes, please! But I get to name the meal and you get to help."

A little while later, they were busily making breakfast in the small kitchen area, with Doug making short work of cracking a few eggs.

He had a rather clever technique. Rather than cracking the eggs on a solid surface, he cut a small seam with one of his claws and separated the two halves effortlessly.

"Show off," Fiona said with a laugh. "I always take a minute to crack the eggs, and I always seem to make a mess."

"Skill issue."

Her brow twitched at that assertion, and she gently tapped one of his wings in response. "Oh, it's on, mini-dragon. I bet you've never made this recipe before."

"What exactly are we making?" he asked.

"Well, if you know about Belgian waffles, I bet you know about this one. French toast," she added as she assembled the ingredients. "Better get Flamii ready. Oh, and make sure you save one piece for her."

Soon enough, the smell of cinnamon filled the air, and Doug leaned into it, handling the pan with no fear of burning himself. "You know, one thing I'll say is that as my current miniature self? No loss of fire resistance."

"So the magic in some Folk species is separate from the magic of the marks? Bonnie never explained cantrips. It certainly made fetching the snacks easy, though." She munched on a yellow, citrus-flavored fruit she didn't have a name for. It was tart like a lemon, but had the texture of an apple. She quite enjoyed it.

"Cantrips are…how does one put this, raw magical energy given a gentle nudge into a few basic forms." He expertly tossed the French toast, and Fiona saw that it was a lovely golden brown shade on one side already. She had to commend his cooking time on it. "It's almost like the world is saturated in magic. From what I've gathered, not every world is like that. Only parts of Earth were like that."

"Bwuh. Earth had ambient magic?" This fact still blew her mind. Then again, Bianca had seen a dragon duking it out with that giant monstrosity she'd been unable to finish off.

"Well, how do you think my mother existed? Dragons allegedly had a globe-spanning empire while humans and the rest were throwing sticks at each other. Of course, my mother also taught Karlin and me that it ended badly. The empire split apart, one side brought in monsters from some other realm of existence, and that problem was worse than a splintering dragon civilization."

"Dude, you did not spill out any of this when we talked earlier," she stated, hands on her hips.

He shrugged softly. "I don't claim to know all of it. Only what I was told. Mage history was more secluded on Earth. And it's not prevalent like it is everywhere on Cepalune." He peeked at the toast while she finished making a batch of whipped cream and sliced a few dark berries for flavor.

"Well, you missed the part where we were starting to make Earth a dumping ground. Be glad you didn't grow up there and watch them burn the rainforests and drill for liquified dinosaur zombies. How's the toast?" She called out over her shoulder.

"Juust about…" he flipped the toast artfully onto a plate. "There. How's that?" he asked, proudly displaying the finished meal after sprinkling cinnamon and powdery sugar on top.

Fiona couldn't contain her excitement and let out a coo of delight. "Artful! Damn, I wish Darla could see this–"

A sharp rap on the door interrupted them both, and Fiona focused on the door. "Who is it?" She called out loud.

The response was a low hum from the other side of the door. It almost sounded like…

Kissing under the tree?! Fiona grabbed a towel to wipe her hands and marched to the door, letting out a cackle of excitement.

"Wait, who is that?" Doug asked.

"Darla. And I think Bonnie and Greg." She opened the door to see the darkling dressed in a dark coat, twirling the loose end of a scarf. Behind her were Bonnie and Greg, bundled up and shaking off some snow. "Hey guys, come on in! You didn't call ahead, but I think we have enough break... fast..."

Darla's eyes locked on Doug, and she let out a soft trill before her lips twisted into a subdued smile. "Oh, my. What happened here, I wonder?" she asked in a smoky tone.

"Breakfast," Doug answered. "Better come on in, I can feel the draft on my wings. Brrr."

"That's what the elf is for, to keep you warm," Darla said back, before giving Fiona a welcoming hug, followed by Bonnie and Greg. The darkling took one sniff and practically crooned on the spot. "What is that lovely scent tantalizing my senses? It almost made me forget a newly matched couple might need a little cozy–"

"Oh, no, Darla. Give the girl some breathing room," Bonnie said with a timely intervention, much to Fiona's relief. Meanwhile, Greg took their coats and hung them on the rack by the door. "She's turning as rosy as her hair. Or the dragon," she added with a leering smile.

"No. It's the cold air," Fiona deflected, before waving them to the table. "A-anyway, I might have made enough for… oh."

Darla tapped on the frying pan she had made appear from nowhere, along with a dozen eggs. "Darling? If I can't prepare a meal for four friends impromptu? I might as well hang up my apron. But first, I must know what this delicacy is," she added, taking a piece from Doug.

"A meal for a cozy snowy day. Alright, let me set the table."