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Once upon a time, and a very good time it was, in the faraway kingdom of Kirkwall, lived a prince.
The Hawke family ruled the land justly and fairly, and King Malcolm and Queen Leandra were beloved by all those who knew them. Their children were also held in high regard - Princess Bethany a favorite amongst the children due to her sweet, gentle nature, and Prince Carver a knight-in-training who was rarely seen without his sword and shield, always willing to fight for those who needed it.
But it was their eldest son and heir, Prince Garrett, who drew the most attention.
Garrett was full of good humor, quick with a joke and always good for a laugh. He was notorious for dressing in common clothing and sneaking into the local tavern, drinking and telling stories long into the night with his best friend, the bard, Varric of House Tethras.
The King and Queen often scolded him for his idle behavior, not-so-subtly reminding him that he should be looking for a spouse instead of the bottom of a tankard. Garrett would scoff at them, telling them he was young yet, with plenty of time.
But, truth be told, Garrett was slowly growing bored. Life wasn’t exciting anymore. He craved real adventure, like in Varric’s stories.
“Why can’t I fight a dragon?” Garrett bemoaned one evening. He sat with his head resting on his arms, expression glum as Varric smirked at him across the table.
“Seriously!” Garrett protested. “I’m a prince, right? You’re always telling me stories about brave knights fighting dragons, rescuing princesses, stealing treasure or…whatever. I want to do that, too!”
Varric raised an eyebrow but didn’t pause from his writing.
“You just told me one the other day,” Garrett continued. “Remember? That dwarf king who wanted all that gold and fought that dragon to get his kingdom back…Smog or something.”
“That’s not my story, Hawke.”
“But…it had dwarves…” Garrett frowned in confusion. He shook his head a few seconds later, losing interest.
“Anyway, I want to fight a dragon.”
“Well…” Varric began, finally putting down his quill. “Lucky for you, I happened to overhear someone the other day mention a dragon hiding not far from here. I think he might have even been guarding a tower.”
“That’s perfect!” Garrett exclaimed, sitting up so suddenly he knocked his half-full tankard over. “I’ll go there, fight the dragon, and then see what’s inside.”
“The tower or the dragon?”
“The tower,” Garrett replied, rolling his eyes. “Wait. Unless…”
He paused, thinking.
“Dragons don’t like…hide things in their stomach, right? Like, if I cut it open, gold isn’t going to come pouring out, will it?”
“No, Hawke.”
“Oh thank god,” he breathed. “I really didn’t want to do that.”
Varric shook his head, another smile playing on his lips.
"Don't worry, Hawke. You're going to do just fine."
And so, with his adventure decided, Garrett bid farewell to his family. Taking only some supplies and his loyal (talking) dog, Prince of Barkness (Pob for short), the prince set off to slay a dragon.
Adventuring was not nearly as exciting as Garrett had hoped.
His feet hurt after a day, the food didn’t last nearly as long as he had planned, and he wasn’t entirely sure where they were going. The familiarity of Kirkwall and its surrounding areas had disappeared, although the pair were fortunate to still have a path to walk on through the seemingly never-ending forest.
“Let’s play a game, Pob,” Garrett began one morning. He was desperate for any kind of entertainment to break up the monotony of tree after tree.
“Chasing sticks?” Pob gasped, tail wagging hopefully.
“Uh…” Garrett hedged, scratching his beard. “I was thinking more like ‘I Spy’ or something.”
“I can’t see colors.”
“You can see shapes…”
“I vote for chasing sticks,” Pob repeated. “Or a ball. Did you bring a ball?”
“We’re on an adventure,” Garrett huffed. “We can play ball back home!”
“Frisbee?”
“Never mind.” Garrett pointed suddenly, changing the subject. “Look, there’s a sign for a village ahead. Maybe they can give us directions to the tower.”
“And sell us a ball.”
Garrett growled in frustration.
“Just…don’t talk when we get there, and maybe I’ll get you a ball.”
Pob barked happily in reply, trotting next to his friend as they entered the bustling town square.
“You want to go where?” the bartender asked Garrett, giving him an incredulous look. “Also, you can’t have your dog in here.”
“There’s a tower near here. I don’t have a map…” He patted his pockets, shrugging after a moment. “Could you give us some directions? And my dog’s fine, don’t worry.”
“I know where you’re talking about,” the bartender replied. “I want to know why you want to go there. You have a death wish or something?”
He paused, looking at Garrett suspiciously.
“This isn’t some kind of…ritual sacrifice or something, is it?”
“Why is that the first thing your mind went to?” Garrett asked warily, taking a step back. “That kind of thing happen a lot around here?”
The bartender peered over the side of the bar at Pob, who had his head cocked to the side, studying the man.
“Maybe.”
“You know what…forget it. I don’t want to know,” Garrett said, pulling Pob closer to his side. “Can you just point me in the general direction so I can get out of here?”
Pob let out a small yip, and Garrett groaned quietly.
“And do you know where I can buy a ball?”
The bartender eventually caved, giving them directions after Garrett promised he and his strange dog would leave immediately. The pair checked into an inn for the night and after stopping to restock their supplies the next morning – including a ball for Pob – they hit the road once more.
“Why didn’t you just tell that guy that you’re a prince?” Pob asked once they were safely out of town.
Garrett shrugged. “What does he care? He’s not part of our kingdom.”
“You could’ve threatened him for information.”
“Right,” Garrett snorted. “’You better give me what I want, or you’ll have to deal with Carver.’ That’ll strike the fear of the gods into him.”
Pob barked with laughter and Garrett joined in, shaking his head before they both lapsed into comfortable silence.
“Do you miss them?” Pob asked after a few minutes.
“I guess.” Garrett shrugged. “But I’m sure they’re fine without me. I couldn’t pass up this chance.”
Pob didn’t reply, walking silently next to his master as Garrett kicked a stone down the path.
“What if…” Pob began, hesitating.
“What if what?”
“What if we get there and…you know, there’s nothing there?”
“Something has to be there.” Garrett frowned. “Why would a dragon guard an empty tower?”
“Okay, what if it’s something you don’t want?” Pob corrected himself. “What if it’s full of…I don’t know, old vegetables or baby dragons or something?”
Garrett gasped loudly, stopping short in the middle of the road to look at Pob with wide eyes.
“Do you think it’ll be baby dragons?” he whispered, barely able to contain his excitement.
“Garrett!” Pob scolded, punctuating it with a little bark. “You’d steal baby dragons from their mother? I’m telling your mother when we get back.”
Garrett had the decency to look a little sheepish, and the pair continued walking.
“I guess we’ll just have to wait and see when we get there,” he said finally. “I’m not going to hurt any babies.”
“Why are you hurting the dragon to begin with?” Pob asked. “What if it’s a friendly dragon?”
“Have you ever met a friendly dragon?” Garrett scoffed.
“Have you ever met a dragon at all?” Pob shot back. “How do you know they’re not nice?”
“Because none of Varric’s stories ever mentioned a nice dragon,” Garrett replied firmly. “He would definitely include one if it was real.”
“Does he ever tell stories about talking dogs?”
“No…not that I can remember.”
“Well, there you go,” Pob replied. If dogs could smirk, Garrett thought, he would be smirking right now. “I’m a talking dog, and Varric doesn’t tell stories about me. It doesn’t mean I don’t exist.”
“Fine!” Garrett groaned, throwing his arms up in exasperation. “If it’s a friendly dragon we’ll leave it alone. I’m starting to wonder why I even brought you along…”
Pob began to whine, coming over to nudge him on the hand. Garrett sighed, reaching over to scratch behind his ears.
“Sorry, pal,” Garrett murmured. “I didn’t mean it.”
“I’m just saying, no point in hurting something just for the sake of hurting it.”
“That’s kind of the whole point of this trip, Pob.” Garrett grimaced, shooting him a sideways look. “I’m supposed to slay the dragon and rescue whatever’s inside the tower.”
“But you don’t have to—“
“I know this is becoming a thing and I hate to cut you off, buddy,” Garrett interrupted, pointing again. “But we’re coming up on another town. Let’s see if they can be any more helpful than the last one.”
This village was much quieter than the last. Barely anyone was out in the streets, and it took some time before they were able to find the tavern amidst the shuttered-up houses and stores. The bartender at this one was slightly friendlier than the last, and they counted that as a small victory.
“You don’t want to go there. You’ll die,” the tavern owner told them bluntly. “No one has come back from a visit to the tower.”
“But I came all this way,” Garrett groaned. “Just tell me if I’m close. I promise I won’t hold you responsible if I die, so don’t feel guilty.”
The bartender cocked his head to the side, giving him an incredulous look.
“What d’you want with that place, anyway?”
“I want to kill the dragon and rescue whatever’s in the tower.”
The bartender stared at him blankly for a moment before bursting into laughter. Garrett just stared back, waiting for him to finish.
“Kill the…” The man chuckled, wiping his eyes. He finally glanced back at Garrett, noticing his bland expression.
“Oh gods, you’re serious, aren’t you?”
Garrett let out a weary sigh, rubbing a hand down his face.
“Do you know what’s in the tower or not?”
“Yeah…the dragon’s keeping a prisoner up there,” he replied. “No steps to the top; no way to get there. It’s a lost cause.”
Garrett perked up, trying in vain to hide his excitement as he turned to Pob.
“It’s a person!” he whispered. Pob just stared back, wagging his tail a bit.
“Is it a princess?” Garrett asked, turning back to the bartender. “A prince? Are they hot?”
“I don’t know who it is. Just that they’ve been trapped up there for the last few years. Anyone who has gone to rescue them has died trying.”
Pob gave Garrett’s hand a quick nip, warning in his eyes.
“Okay, but most importantly,” Garrett said, leaning in conspiratorially. “Do you know if they’re single?”
The bartender went silent, giving him a blank stare.
“Get out of my bar.”
They set out the next morning, Garrett in a noticeably cranky mood although Pob was unsure why. They knew where they were going and what was in the tower…Garrett should be excited.
They walked in silence for a few hours until Pob suddenly let out an excited bark, ramming Garrett with his head.
“You know, I don’t know why you don’t just talk when it’s something important,” Garrett grumbled, rubbing his arm.
“Let me be a dog once a while,” Pob said. “But since you’re oblivious anyway, look.”
Pob nosed the air off to their side, Garrett following his line of sight. A large tower arose out of the trees, appearing out of nowhere. Winding vines curled around the outside, crumbling chunks of wall missing in places and only one window in sight, at the very top. An outcropping of rocks bordered the far side, trees littering the edges and providing an ominous backdrop. A loud roar echoed in the distance, making Garrett’s hair stand on end.
“Look, I have goosebumps,” he said gleefully, pushing up his sleeve and shoving his arm in front of Pob’s snoot. “I am so fighting that dragon.”
“Only if it’s not nice,” Pob reminded him.
“Okay, but how am I supposed to determine that?” Garrett demanded. “Should we come up with a questionnaire? ‘Excuse me, but before you breathe fire and kill us both, can you please let me know your stance on stealing candy from children?’”
“Maybe it won’t try and kill us on sight.”
“Well, if it lets us sit down for a cup of tea and talk things out then I’ll wait,” Garrett grimaced.
“Right now, we have a potentially hot person to save.”
It took them until nearly dusk to reach the outskirts of the tower, and despite Garrett’s eagerness to continue, Pob convinced him to stop for the evening.
“We need to figure out how we’re going to get to the top,” Garrett mused that night, staring at the building from their hiding spot.
“Maybe they have a rope ladder,” Pob suggested.
“Sure,” Garrett snorted. “Then why haven’t they used it? Plus, you can’t climb ladders.”
“I can guard the bottom,” Pob countered. “And if they don’t have one, maybe we can make one. There are plenty of vines.”
“It would take a really long time to make one,” Garrett replied doubtfully. “And we’d still have to figure out how to get it to the top.”
Pob didn’t reply, the pair staring out into the darkness as they thought.
“Let’s just sleep,” Garrett mumbled after a while, rolling onto his side. “We’ll figure it out in the morning.”
When they woke the next morning it was eerily quiet, the melodic noises of the animals they fell asleep to suddenly gone. Pob looked around warily, although it didn’t seem to faze Garrett at all.
“Um…” Pob began, “something doesn’t feel right.”
The next thing they knew, a large mass blotted out the sun above them, throwing the tower and surrounding forest into shadows. The duo ran out into the clearing to get a better look.
The dragon flew in circles around the tower, letting out periodic roars of disapproval in their direction. Garrett and Pob froze, staring at it in awe (Garrett) and sheer terror (Pob).
“Look at it,” Garrett whispered.
“No offense, buddy,” Pob began, slowly backing away, “but I am seriously doubting your fighting skills right now.”
“You can’t leave now,” Garrett cried, grabbing him by the collar and dragging him back. “Come on, bark back at it or something. Show it we’re not scared.”
Pob sat and began scratching behind an ear, giving Garrett a look of disinterest.
“You go ahead,” he insisted. “You got this.”
Garrett unsheathed his sword, looking at the weapon uncertainly before gazing up at the dragon.
“I was so not prepared for this,” he sighed. “Maybe we should just…take a step back and try to plan this out a little better.”
They slowly made their way back to their campsite, hoping they didn’t draw the attention of the dragon still circling overhead. Garrett sat heavily next to the burnt out remains of their campfire, staring into the still smoking embers.
“So, we need to figure out if this place really doesn’t have a door,” Garrett said after a little while. “That’s going to make a big difference in what we do.”
“The bartender said it didn’t.”
“I know,” Garrett sighed, poking at the fire. “But if it does it would save us a lot of trouble.”
“I’ll go check,” Pob volunteered, standing. “I’m quieter and faster.”
“You sure?” Garrett bit his lip, glancing through the trees nervously.
“If I haven’t returned in a few hours then come looking for me,” the dog replied. “But I should be back way before then.”
Pob looked around briefly before walking over to Garrett and giving him a quick lick on the cheek.
“Don’t you dare tell anyone I did that,” he warned before trotting away.
Pob was back less than an hour later, looking no worse for the wear.
“No door,” he announced, plopping down next to Garrett and gratefully accepting the small bowl of water his friend laid before him. “And no other windows, either.”
“What the fuuuuck,” Garrett moaned. “How are we supposed to find out what’s inside if we can’t even get in there?”
“Do you know how to scale walls?”
Garrett stared blankly at him for a few moments.
“Do I look like I know how to scale walls?”
“How hard can it be?” Pob asked. “For you, I mean. No way in hell I’m getting up there.”
“You have to come with me! You’re my guard dog.”
Pob huffed out a laugh before taking another drink. “Then you better strap me on your back and get ready to haul me up there with you.”
“Okay.”
“Garrett!”
“Well, what else am I supposed to do?” Garrett grumbled. “Did you happen to see the dragon while you were out there? It got quiet not long after you left.”
“Nope,” Pob replied. He began nosing through the pack between them, looking for any errant pieces of meat. “But I did see something interesting.”
“Oh?”
“That section of rocks is almost directly across from the window,” he said.
“Can we jump across?”
“I don’t think so.” Pob shook his head, letting out a happy yip when he found a piece of food. “But maybe we could make a bridge?”
Garrett made a doubtful noise, glancing back over at the tower. While the idea was good in theory, he wasn’t exactly sure how he would be able to craft a bridge, let alone make it work.
“Well, I’m open to any ideas at this point,” he sighed, stretching. “But what about the dragon? I can’t imagine it’s just going to let us waltz in there.”
Pob just continued to chew, as if he didn’t hear a word Garrett said.
“Also,” Garrett went on, “I think it’s pretty safe to say this dragon isn’t a nice one.”
“We don’t know that,” Pob argued, and Garrett rolled his eyes. “Just because it seemed a little…angry…doesn’t mean it wants to kill us.”
“I’m pretty sure it wants to kill us, Pob,” Garrett sighed. “So let’s figure out a way to get around it with as little limb loss as possible.”
After many creative, yet ultimately useless, plans the pair decided to head to the cliff and work on their bridge first. If the dragon showed up, well…they’d deal with that when the time came.
Luckily the outcropping was only slightly higher than the window, although definitely too far to reach without help.
“You think we could…I don’t know, swing over or something?” Garrett asked, squinting up at the trees near them.
“That would take a lot more finesse than you have,” Pob snorted. “And you’d have to carry me on your back again.”
“Well, the only other thing I can think of is cutting one of these logs and trying to get it across to the window. But we don’t have an axe…”
Garrett sighed, leaning against a tree as Pob continued to sniff around. They were stuck. With no way to reach the tower and no way to defeat the dragon on their own, it looked like his plan was going to be a bust.
A bark rang out through the air a few minutes later, shaking Garrett from his thoughts. He followed the noise to find Pob standing next to a small pile of chopped wood, an axe resting in one of the partly-finished logs. Pob stared at him happily, wagging his tail.
“This is awesome,” Garrett cheered. He reached over and started scratching Pob behind the ears. “Who’s a good dog? Who’s a good dog?”
Pob just barked in delight, giving him a quick lick in return.
“Okay,” Garrett grinned, looking back at the wood. “Let’s build us a bridge.”
“Building a bridge” ended up being one long, wide log cut in half to make both sides flat. It took the entire rest of the day to finish, and they hadn’t even begun to try and move it before night settled on them again. The pair returned to their camp, Garrett’s body nearly throbbing as his muscles screamed for rest.
“Tomorrow we can start moving it,” he said as they both ate small bowls of stew Garrett cooked for them. “Still not sure how we’re going to get it across, though.”
“Very carefully.”
The next morning rolled around and they returned to the wood site, putting the finishing touches on their log bridge. It took a large portion of the day to transport it to the edge of the cliff, the majority of the work falling to Garrett who had to strap it to his back and drag it to its destination.
They both paused at the edge of the cliff, assessing the situation.
“So…what now?” Pob asked, flopping onto his stomach.
“I think I might have an idea,” Garrett replied, eyes closed as he rested against a tree. “Just give me a few minutes to catch my breath.”
A little while later, Pob watched in stunned silence as Garrett drew up plans in the dirt for a simple contraption that would attach to the log, causing it to act as a drawbridge of sorts.
“Where…how do you know how to do this?” Pob demanded once he was done. Garrett just huffed and rolled his eyes.
“I did pay attention in some of my classes, you know,” he replied indignantly. “I’m not an idiot.”
“Never said you were.”
They decided to pack up their campsite and move it to the side of the cliff so they could work through the night gathering the needed materials. Partially to avoid arousing the dragon’s suspicion, and partially so that they could use it as soon as the sun rose. It wasn’t easy, using just the moon for light and crudely made tools to build it, but as the dawn approached Garrett was confident they were ready.
“I think we did a pretty awesome job, all things considered,” Garrett said proudly, hands on his hips as he stared at the contraption. Pob stood next to him admiring it as well, both with their backs to the tower.
“We sure did,” Pob nodded. “Now, let’s see if—“
He paused, raising his nose to sniff the air.
“Something’s not right.”
Garrett frowned, turning to look at him.
“What are you—oh, fuck.”
He tripped over his own feet in his haste, nearly falling down as he saw two large, squinting dragon eyes staring at them. Just the top part of the dragon’s head was visible, watching them silently for who knows how long.
Pob was frozen where he stood, eyes flicking back and forth between Garrett and the dragon, who still hadn’t moved.
“What do we do?” he hissed.
“Can you get to my sword?” Garrett whispered back.
“Do you really want either of us to move right now?”
Garrett slowly began walking backward, hands in the air.
“Just…going back to my bag, little dragon,” Garrett murmured. “No reason to try and eat me…”
“Will you hurry up?”
Garrett reached his bag, only to realize in panic that his sword was trapped under some of their discarded drawbridge pieces.
“This is going to take me a few minutes,” Garrett called back as quietly as he could. “Just like…distract it or something, okay?”
“And how am I supposed to do that?” Pob cried.
The dragon blinked, eyes trained on Garrett as he struggled to free his sword and paying Pob no mind.
“He’s watching you,” Pob said through clenched teeth.
“I’m trying, okay?” Garrett shouted. “Just let me—“
He stumbled back with a loud grunt as he wrestled a particularly large piece of wood free, the piece flying through the air toward the edge of the cliff. Before they even realized what had happened, the dragon jumped, catching the large branch in its mouth before spitting it back out onto the cliff. It looked at Garrett expectantly, eyes flicking down to the branch and back to his face.
Neither Pob nor Garrett moved, both frozen in place as the dragon waited patiently. They could just see the small flick of its tail moving back and forth behind it.
“I think…it wants to play fetch,” Pob finally said.
“What?”
“Throw another branch.”
Garrett looked for a larger piece of wood this time, moving a little closer so he could throw it over the side. Again, the dragon darted over, snatching it out of the air before placing it next to the original. Garrett stared in amazement, scratching his head.
“Well…shit.”
“What do we do now?” Pob asked.
“The fuck if I know,” Garrett replied. “We can’t stay here and play fetch all day, though. We have to get in that tower.”
“Maybe if we play for a little while it’ll be friendly enough that it’ll let us go in,” Pob reasoned. “Let’s just throw a few more sticks. You promised not to hurt a nice dragon, remember?”
“Yeah, I remember,” Garrett muttered in resignation.
The trio played for the better part of the morning, until Garrett’s arm was so sore from throwing he had to take a break. The dragon just sat patiently next to the cliff, waiting.
“I can’t do anymore,” Garrett panted. “I’m so thirsty.”
“Well, we ran out of water half an hour ago, remember?” Pob replied glumly, lying down next to his friend. “Maybe there’s some inside the tower.”
He began nosing through Garrett’s pack for a piece of food. Garrett wasn’t paying any attention, trying to sort through his possible next moves when he felt a small thump on his leg. He looked down, breaking into a grin.
“Hey, Pob?” he began, holding up the ball. “I think I have an idea.”
With renewed energy, Garrett threw a few more sticks to the dragon, the pile now large enough to start a small campfire. Pob had casually moved their bags and Garrett’s sword next to the contraption and waited, poised to move when Garrett gave the signal.
Once he was in place, Garrett reached into his pocket and held the ball in front of him so the dragon could clearly see it.
“This is a ball,” he said loudly, as if the dragon could understand. “It is so much more fun to play with than sticks! It’s so fun, my dog made me go into a town just to buy him one.”
The dragon just blinked at him, Garrett glancing nervously at Pob before looking back at the dragon.
“So, I’m going to throw this, and it’ll be a little tougher to find because it’s small,” he explained. “But you’re a really smart, really nice and friendly dragon, so I know you can do it. Ready?”
He reared his arm back, preparing to throw, and the dragon hopped up excitedly.
“Ready…GO!” Garrett shouted. He pretended to throw, the ball never leaving his hand as the dragon bounded happily in the opposite direction. At the word “go” Pob released the lever, the bridge slowly lowering itself until it reached the window.
“Run, run, run!” Garrett shouted, grabbing his sword and their packs before darting across the narrow log and diving through the window.
Pob tumbled into the room after Garrett with a small boof, the man panting for a moment before taking a good look around the room.
“What the hell!” he shouted hoarsely, scrambling to his feet.
The room, which wouldn’t fit more than the two of them comfortably, was completely empty, three identical stone walls finishing the space.
“There’s nothing in here!” he cried. “There’s no way the dragon was guarding an empty room, this has to be some kind of a joke.”
“I still can’t believe you used the fake ball toss on that dragon,” Pob shook his head. “The cruelest trick in the book.”
“We can argue about that later!”
Pob didn’t reply, sniffing around the small space. He stopped next to the western wall, letting out a small bark to grab Garrett’s attention.
“Come here,” he whispered. “I think something’s behind this wall.”
“What is it, boy?” Garrett gasped, darting over and nearly knocking him on his side.
“Will you stop it?” Pob hissed. “Someone might be on the other side of this wall, I can’t keep talking to you. Now try and find a button or something to open this.”
Garrett sulked for a moment but did as he was told, feeling around and pushing random stones until he heard something click. The wall shifted slightly – barely noticeable if they hadn’t been looking for it – and Garrett grinned down at his dog.
“I think we can move this,” he whispered, Pob nodding in return.
Garrett braced himself along the edge of the stone, and with a loud grunt of effort, slowly began pushing the wall away to reveal a wooden door. Pob barked happily, dancing around Garrett, who promptly slumped to the ground.
“That was a lot of work,” he panted. “And I’m really thirsty.”
“Well, we still don't have any water so suck it up,” Pob whispered.
“Yeah, but I’m really, really thirsty. How am I supposed to charm this person if I can’t talk?”
“Then stop talking now!” Pob cried. “We still need to get through that door. Did you try the handle?”
Garrett pouted but stood, attempting to turn, pull, and push the handle in every direction, but it wouldn’t budge.
“Looks like we’re going to have to brute force this one, too,” he sighed. “This better be worth it.”
He took a few steps back before running and slamming into the door with his shoulder.
“Fuck,” he hissed, rubbing his arm. “This thing is solid.” Pob gave him a small bark of encouragement.
It took a few more tries before any progress could be felt and, after what felt like forever, they finally broached the room. Garrett fell into the door, which slammed into the inside wall with a loud bang. Pob was hot on his heels, immediately crouching down into a guarded stance, prepared for a fight.
To their surprise, a healthy-looking, very un-prisoner-like blond man stared back at them, staff in one hand and the other raised before him.
“Who are you and why are you here?” the man demanded.
“Are you okay?” Garrett panted. “Also, do you have any water? My throat’s really dry.”
The man furrowed his brow, eventually pointing towards a basin in the corner. Garrett sprinted over, leaving Pob to keep a watchful eye.
“Oh God, this is the best water ever,” Garrett gasped, water spilling down his beard as he drank another ladle-full.
“Um…”
Garrett drank for another awkward minute before wiping his mouth and turning to study the ceiling, where light was streaming through two huge skylights.
"Hey, you do have other windows!" he cried. "Pob, look!"
The dog ignored him as the man gave him another confused look.
"Yes...I--"
Garrett held up a hand, cutting him off.
“Don't worry, we’re here to rescue you.”
“Would you mind telling me who you are, first?” the man asked in exasperation.
“I’m Garrett Hawke, Prince of Kirkwall,” Garrett replied. “And this is my dog, Pob.”
“You named your dog Bob?”
“Pob,” Garrett repeated louder, emphasizing the P. “Short for Prince of Barkness. He’s awesome.”
The man hid a snort behind his hand, trying to look interested as he nodded.
“That’s uh…a good name,” he said. “Mine is Anders. And I don’t need rescuing.”
“Whaaat?” Garrett cried, face falling. “But I did all this work! This was supposed to be my thing.”
“Why?” Anders asked, cocking his head to the side. “I’m fine.”
“But…” Garrett sputtered, looking to Pob for help. The dog sat with a huff, shooting him an annoyed glance.
“You’re the first ones who have actually made it here.” Anders squinted, looking between them suspiciously. “You didn’t hurt Daffodil, did you?”
“Uh…” Garrett frowned. “Maybe? What’s that?”
Anders sighed, shaking his head.
“The dragon?” he said. “Princess Daffodil the Daring. The Third.”
Garrett looked frantically at Pob, the dog now snoring in exaggerated bursts and pointedly facing in the opposite direction.
“I mean…I don’t think so, but…you named the dragon Daffodil?”
“She’s very regal,” Anders replied defensively. “And I can’t believe you got past her. How did you do that?” He squinted at them again. “Are you a mage?”
“What?” Garrett gasped. “A mage? Really? With these arms? Come on, look at these bad boys.”
He struck a pose, flexing his biceps dramatically. Anders bit his lip, fighting back a laugh as he watched the show.
“Those are very nice,” he said politely.
“Damn right they are,” Garrett nodded smugly. He folded his arms across his chest, checking to make sure his biceps were still clearly on display.
“So, are you single?”
“What?” Anders sputtered, looking at him with wide eyes.
Garrett shrugged. “Figured I’d ask. Since I’m rescuing you and all.”
Anders ran a hand down his face, sighing.
“So why did you really come here? Who told you where to find me?”
“I didn’t know who or what was up here until a few days ago. There was a very rude bartender…” He grimaced. “I just wanted to fight a dragon.”
“Why?”
Garrett threw his hands in the air, rolling his eyes.
“Because I’m a prince and I’ve never done anything heroic!” he cried. “All I do is drink at the tavern with my friend and tell ridiculous jokes and listen to my parents lecture me about doing something with my life. I wanted a change. So I left to find one.”
Anders’ face softened, finally giving Garrett a sympathetic smile.
“I ran from my problems too,” he murmured. “And by ‘problems’ I mean Templars who kept me locked up for being a—“
He shook his head, taking a deep breath to calm down before giving Garrett a serene smile.
“I left my old home, and I found this place one day – hungry, dirty, exhausted – and crawled inside to escape a storm. I fell asleep, and when I woke up, I found Daffodil staring at me through the door.”
“She didn’t attack you?” Garrett cried. “What the hell!”
Anders chuckled, shaking his head. “No. When I looked outside, I saw a small pile of animals she had left for me. I made a room here, safe from the outside, and Daffodil kept watch over me all these years. No one comes close anymore.”
“But why do—wait, a minute. Did you say door?”
Pob lifted his head from across the room, turning to look at them curiously.
“Oh, um…” Anders began with a nervous chuckle. “There used to be a door. I…hid it up a while ago to keep people from sneaking in. But I can leave whenever I want.”
“But…you can…” Garrett sputtered. He squinted his eyes shut and let out a frustrated breath.
“So, you’re telling me that this whole time you’ve been able to come and go from this tower as you please, and you’re up here voluntarily?”
“Pretty much,” Anders nodded.
“And the dragon is your friend and won’t kill us?”
Ander shrugged. “Not unless I tell her to.”
“Oh my god,” Garrett groaned. He sat down on the nearest chair, head in his hands.
“I came all this way,” he mumbled. “I came all this way and I feel like such an idiot. Now I have to go back home and tell everyone that not only did I not slay the dragon, the person I tried to rescue refused to leave with me. I’m a failure.”
There was an awkward silence in the room for a couple of minutes, only the soft clicking noise of Pob’s feet as he walked over to Garrett and rested his head on his knee with a small whine.
“I don’t think you’re a failure,” Anders spoke up, tentatively. “I mean…you got in here somehow. And Daffodil didn’t kill you. As far as I know, you’re the first to do both those things. That’s pretty impressive.”
Garrett looked up, and Anders gave him a shy smile.
“And um, to answer your earlier question…I’m single.”
Garrett broke into a grin and Anders could have sworn his dog groaned in exasperation before walking away. Anders walked closer until they were about an arms-length apart.
“That’s uh…” Garrett began quietly, swallowing the lump in his throat before continuing. “That’s pretty great. I am, too.”
Anders grinned back at him, looking at his feet as his face heated up. Garrett only smiled wider, reaching out to take one of Anders’ hands in his.
“So, would you consider leaving with me?” he asked hopefully. “You’re pretty hot.”
Anders burst into laughter, yanking his hand away.
“You don’t know anything about me,” he replied, growing somber after a moment.
“Most places don’t accept people like me,” he said quietly. “It’s dangerous for me to leave here.”
“People like you?” Garrett asked, confused. “You mean handsome? I promise, you won’t have to work in a brothel, you’ll be my guest.”
Anders chuckled, blushing slightly as he shook his head.
“You’re sweet,” he murmured, “but that’s not what I meant.”
Garrett just looked at him expectantly, so Anders gathered his courage, took a breath and looked him square in the eyes.
“I’m a mage.”
Garrett blinked, waiting for him to continue. Anders began to shift uncomfortably on his feet, looking away until Garrett cleared his throat.
“And?”
“And?” Anders gaped. “I’m a…do you have any idea how mages are treated around here?”
“Like everyone else?” Garrett shrugged. “They are at home, anyway. My sister is a mage. She’s a princess,” he said proudly.
“She’s a…Maker, I need to sit down,” Anders muttered, sitting on an overturned box nearby.
Garrett frowned, watching him. “I don’t understand what the problem is. My dad's a mage, too, and he's the king. He wouldn't let anyone treat mages badly."
Anders laughed, a little hysterically, and just stared at him with wide eyes.
“Nothing,” he said after a few moments. "Nothing's wrong..." Sighing, he glanced toward the room with the window.
“I can’t leave Daffodil, you know.”
Garrett’s shoulders slumped, looking defeated. All this way, almost having the man convinced, and he was going to stay behind because of the dragon? Of all the luck…
“Maybe…we could bring her with us?” Anders suggested. “Find her a nice spot where she wouldn’t be bothered, and I could visit her.”
Garrett’s face lit up.
“We can totally do that,” he replied eagerly. “Did I tell you I’m a prince? Cause I am, and I bet I could find her a great spot cause my dad’s the king. She and Pob can even be friends!” Pob gave an irritated bark from the other side of the room.
Anders sighed, pondering the idea. A kingdom where mages were treated like equals. A kingdom where he could be free.
“Yeah…” he smiled, watching as Garrett began to grin from ear-to-ear. “Maybe it’s time for a change.”