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There were many magical beings throughout the Kingdom of Nine: fae, centaurs, goblins, unicorns, the list went on.
Some were respected, others feared, but above all, it was the dragons who were revered. They were loyal, powerful and wise. They had more magic in a single scale than a mage had in their entire body. They could create fire hotter than anything found in a forge and they could take on an entire kingdom’s military without breaking a sweat.
There were all different kinds of dragons: some without wings, some with four feet, some without horns. There were large dragons and small ones and they all had different names – yet despite all this, one thing never changed: they were the most sought after, highly prized beings in the Kingdom.
They were once considered gods, now the humans knew better. Dragons could still have their pick of lovers; influential royals, talented artists, intellectual scholars; there was no man or woman who didn’t wish to befriend or be chosen as a mate by a dragon.
A dragon, you see, was a shapeshifter. They had their majestic and powerful true form, but when they chose to become human, they kept a piece of themselves visible. Their draconic eyes let everyone know who and what they were.
But, Anthony was different.
Oh, he’d once let his draconic eyes show; proudly showing off what he was to the humans, wanting their adulation and affection – but, he had been foolish, and he’d paid the price. He was a young dragon, only two centuries old and a decade ago he had been captured by trolls who wanted him for his magic and power. They had crippled his wing, making it impossible for him to fly away.
They’d thought they’d won – but Anthony was resourceful. He’d escaped and burned their village to the ground, but his wing hadn’t been salvageable. It was cut from his body, leaving him unable to fly.
He became a cautionary tale of arrogance. His own kind (the wyverns) mocked him and looked at him with pity or disgust – but Anthony worked hard to replace what he’d lost.
He made a beautiful metal wing and adhered it to his body. It allowed him to fly again, to feel a little bit more like himself.
But, it wasn’t enough. The other dragons sneered at him. They called him broken, imperfect, rust-wing and in the end, he fled.
Anthony shifted into his human form and let his eyes fade to a soft brown. He hid in the human kingdom furthest from his own kind.
He became a smith; a quiet but talented man who kept to himself and avoided the main market square. He fixed swords and armour and pretended he wasn’t lonely – that he didn’t miss the feel of the wind on his scales, or the way people looked at him with awe when they saw his golden eyes.
Anthony knew better than to long for more than what he had; he knew he was too damaged to have anything else.
This was now his life; human, broken and alone—at least, that was what he’d thought.
It was a typical day in the smithy for Anthony. The street outside would be bustling with people and the smiths throughout the kingdom would be hard at work at their forge. Anthony preferred to craft his wares late at night with nothing but the heat for company. It reminded him of his true form.
He didn’t require as much sleep as humans either and could stay awake for four days without needing to rest. It was why he was at the front of his shop, absently polishing the weapons he had on display. His wares were of superb quality, but he didn’t have many customers. He liked it that way. It was better if he was unremarked upon. The less people saw him, the less likely someone would recognise him.
He had vast riches from his family cave; centuries of gold and treasure came in handy when hiding among the human populace.
He had just finished with a sword when the door of his smithy opened. Anthony lifted his head, but his polite greeting never left his lips. The man who stepped inside was beautiful. His green eyes were filled with intelligence and curiosity. His high cheekbones and fine clothing spoke of aristocracy and the air around him tasted like magic.
A rich, intelligent mage.
Oh, how Anthony would have loved to take such a human to his bed. Once upon a time, Anthony would have walked through a market square or a packed royal banquet to follow after the beautiful glimmer that was such a rare jewel – but now, he pushed down all his interest and instincts.
“I am looking for the smith who made this weapon,” the man said, walking up to the counter and placing down a dagger.
“You have found him,” Anthony answered. “This is mine. I sold it to a man three weeks ago.” He lifted his head. “How did you come to have it?”
The man’s smile was dark and wry. It made Anthony’s body alight with the need to see what he was capable of: dragons would not settle for anyone who couldn’t match them. He wanted to poke and prod and see what would happen - but, Anthony fought to ignore the feeling.
“The man attempted to use this dagger to murder me.”
Anthony’s eyes widened in genuine shock. He looked the mage up and down. He appeared unharmed, but that meant nothing when a mage was involved. Yet, the fact he now had the dagger, spoke little for the survival of his would-be attacker.
“I had no knowledge he would do that with the weapon.”
“Of course not,” the man dismissed. “I doubt he advertised he attended to kill the second prince.”
Anthony’s eyes had fallen to the dagger but he jerked them back to the man with surprise. The prince’s smile gained amusement. “Oh? You did not know that either.”
“I… only recently moved here,” Anthony admitted. “I keep to myself.”
“Hmm,” the man hummed. “A shame. You made one of the best daggers I have ever seen. A talent like that is wasted in this part of the city.”
Anthony avoided the prince’s shrewd eyes, preferring to shrug. “My needs are met here. I am fine where I am.”
“Are you?” The prince asked, sounding like he didn’t believe a word of it.
Anthony raised his eyes and locked onto sharp green. There was interest and challenge within them and a fire that made Anthony want to press close and push back. He could feel the hum of the man’s magic, and it took everything Anthony had to keep his eyes from bleeding gold.
He couldn’t afford to be seen; he couldn’t afford to be known.
Rust wing, his mind hissed and it gave him the resolve to look away from the beautiful human with addictive fire.
“Do you want to know more of the man who bought the dagger?” Anthony asked. “Was there a reason you sought me?”
“I sought the crafter of a perfect blade; a weapon that will allow a magic user to enchant it. I wanted to know how such a fool had gained access to an elite weapon.”
Anthony tensed. He’d tried to make his weapons the standard fare, but he was a perfectionist and he was a dragon. His magic escaped into everything he made, and although most humans were too dim-witted to utilise or notice it, this prince was far wiser.
He glanced at the prince warily. The mage was staring at him like a complex puzzle.
“I suppose he just got lucky,” Anthony answered.
“Lucky? Yes, I believe he did – but that doesn’t explain you.”
“I don’t need explaining. I’m just a weaponsmith.”
The prince hummed, but made no comment. He left the dagger where it was and started examining the wares lining the shelves.
“If that is all you are, then you will have no concern with telling me your name.”
He looked back at Anthony, holding his gaze. He suddenly realised what the other man was doing: he was trying to discern whether or not Anthony was human. Many beings avoided giving out their names as part of their culture or magic. The fae, in particular, would never give such an offering.
It made Anthony, for the first time, relax. The prince assumed he wasn’t human but didn’t know what he was: if the man believed him to be a dragon, he would have announced it immediately. His secret was safe, and all Anthony needed to do was prove he was human.
A feat that, if he was careful, shouldn’t be too difficult.
“Anthony,” he answered. “Anthony Smithson.”
The prince frowned, looking both disappointed and intrigued. He gave a small huff of annoyance and looked back at the weapons on the walls. Anthony knew it wouldn’t be long until the prince fired another question at him.
Anthony turned back to the sword and continued to polish it. He needed to remain calm, friendly and unthreatening. It was with a sense of irony that he realised the advantage he possessed: dragons were well known for showing off their heritage. They never hid, and especially not in plain sight.
The prince could try every trick to oust a magical creature and none of them would work. He would be forced to walk away with the belief that Anthony was a human with a talent for enchantment and metalwork, and that could be explained away by anything. Latent magic, being a descendent of a mage or a spell of good fortune.
The other man wouldn’t learn his secret and he’d give up soon enough. Anthony just had to be patient.
Unfortunately, Anthony did not expect how stubborn the prince would be. The man spent an hour in the smithy trying every possible trick to discern what Anthony might be.
Although Anthony started off tense and wary, by the end, he was amused. He tried to bite his tongue and hold back his quips, but within a half hour, the words were slipping free. The other man only laughed and became twice as determined.
When he left, Anthony felt disappointment and regret. The prince was gorgeous and witty. He drew smiles from Anthony with ease and he made Anthony forget, for a moment, that he had something to hide.
He was the kind of human that Anthony would have taken to his bed with eagerness. Anthony would have shown him wonders few humans had ever seen and given him magical and ornamental treasures of affection and possession.
Anthony longed to explore the pale skin underneath rich silks – but, that wasn’t his life anymore. He couldn’t indulge in beautiful bodies and sharp minds.
It was why Anthony forced himself to accept the prince’s departure as a good thing. He’d made no promise or plan to return, in all likelihood, he was finished with Anthony.
And yet, despite knowing it was a foolish idea, Anthony was just as curious and stubborn as the prince. The other man had sought him out, and in turn, Anthony sought out his prince.
Oh, he didn’t go to the palace or try to talk to him, Anthony merely did the research he’d always avoided before: he asked, listened and read about the royals of Asgard. He glossed over the family history, spared hardly a glance at the King and first born – he focused solely on the second.
Loki.
Prince Loki.
Mage, liar, scholar, tactician.
A true genius and famed magic user. Disliked by the aristocracy for his sharp tongue, arrogance and unusual battle tactics. Well-regarded by the people for his problem-solving, reliability and reserved manner.
Anthony only felt more yearning with every tale he was told. Loki was enchanting and Anthony desired him with a fierceness that ashamed him. It was that shame which made him stop his enquiries and retreat back into the safety of his forge.
Anthony was not a covetous dragon whom any human would want to bed. He wasn’t a powerful creature who could lay waste to enemies and soar high above the clouds bringing awe to those around him. Anthony was a useless, broken dragon who the world would meet with mockery.
Loki would be the prize of any dragon – he could do far better than a wounded and disgraced hiding wyvern.
Anthony was determined to ignore the prince, a plan that worked splendidly for four days. It was why he didn’t expect to be buying fruit in the market when someone stepped into his personal space.
He turned a frown on them – only for his eyes to widen. Loki just looked curious.
“Hmm, not a centaur. You didn’t mind me encroaching on your space.”
“I did mind,” Anthony countered. “What you did was rude and unwelcome.”
“Yet, you haven’t stepped away.”
Anthony scowled. He wanted to pull away. Loki smelled divine and he didn’t need the temptation – but stepping backwards would be a retreat, and he didn’t like to lose.
“I am the not the one who was impolite. You should step back.”
Loki raised his eyebrows. “You would argue with a prince?”
“It is not an argument, but a statement of fact.”
Loki chuckled, his green eyes alight with mirth. He also took a small step back, putting them a polite distance apart, but still close enough to talk comfortably.
“You are a curious one, Anthony Smithson. I’ve not met anyone like you.”
“I suppose I’m flattered,” Anthony answered, making himself look away from Loki and continue with his shopping.
The grocer was staring at Loki with shock and a small amount of awe. Anthony pretended not to notice. It wasn’t a poor area of town, but it was a place that rarely saw royalty, and never walking around so casually.
In fact, most of the square had stopped to gawk, but Loki only had eyes for Anthony.
Anthony did his best to pretend Loki didn’t exist. He picked up and examined fruit, but this only prompted Loki to pick up a pear and turn it in his hand.
“Well, you are purchasing fruit, that rules out a number of beings.”
Anthony couldn’t resist. “I could be buying it as a ploy.”
“Subterfuge,” Loki agreed, his face blank, but Anthony could hear the amusement in his words. “A wise decision.”
“Or,” Anthony added, “I could be entirely human.”
“But, what would be the fun in that?”
Anthony was grateful to use collecting oranges as an excuse to look away. The remark was flippant, but it hit too close to home. He placed everything he needed in his basket and handed the coin to the still dumbstruck grocer before walking away. Loki paid for the pear still in his hand and followed after Anthony.
“I have considered the possibility you’re human,” Loki said a few moments later, making Anthony glance over his shoulder despite himself.
Loki was rubbing the pear on his tunic to clean it. Anthony tried to be patient, but when nothing was forthcoming, he asked, “And?”
Loki looked at him. “And, while it is possible, I am not willing to accept it so easily. There are at least twenty more creatures you might be.”
Anthony huffed out a breath, feeling a mixture of exasperation and amusement. “Don’t you have better things to do with your time?”
“Not for the moment,” Loki replied.
He then took a bite of the pear and finally looked around the market as if seeing it for the first time. As if released from a spell, the people hurriedly went back to their tasks, trying not to be caught staring. Seeming satisfied, Loki walked forward to stand beside Anthony, he skimmed the contents of his basket briefly before remarking, “You didn’t buy any apples.”
“Oh? And what does that make me?”
“A fool,” Loki said, a smirk tugging at his lips. “Asgard has the best apples in all the lands.”
Anthony rolled his eyes. “Says the man who ate a pear over the famed fruit.”
“Tut, tut, Anthony. I’ve always been fond of something a little different.”
Anthony stilled and shot the prince a wary look, but Loki wasn’t looking at him. Anthony soon glanced away and made sure to keep his steps even and ignore the parallel in Loki’s words.
Anthony might be different to the people of Asgard, but that didn’t mean Loki meant him. He only meant pears – and if he didn’t… well, Anthony would have to make sure to keep Loki at arm’s length. He was a damaged dragon in hiding, the last thing he needed was to get close to a human who fit all the criteria Anthony coveted in a partner.
If he wasn’t careful, Anthony knew this would end in disaster.
Of course, it turned out that being cautious around Loki wasn’t possible.
Anthony tried, but the prince had all the charm of a sorceress, and the cunning of a fae. He knew how to pluck and pull at Anthony until he couldn’t resist answering back. Anthony found himself laughing easily and walking away from the market to a tavern for a meal and a drink.
They spoke for hours and Anthony found himself unable to look away. He might be in his human form, he might be hiding from all that he once was, but he was still a dragon at heart. They never could walk away from a treasure.
It was dangerous, it was foolish, but when Loki started visiting him on a regular basis, Anthony didn’t push him away. He didn’t pack up his forge and move to another city or kingdom. He stayed where he was, and smiled whenever the prince stepped through his doors.
It felt like the blink of an eye as four months passed. Loki visited him twice, if not three times a week. Sometimes, he arrived in casual but no less elegant silks. Other days, he was in his finest courtly wear (having come directly from the ‘drudgery that is the Asgardian court’), twice he had even come from a formal gathering which saw him in his leather and metal armour.
His armour was Anthony’s favourite; it glinted in the light and made Anthony want to drag him close and into a possessive hold. He wanted the world to know that this warrior was his – but, Anthony pushed every urge down and made himself look away.
Loki was a talented and coveted prince – perhaps not by humans, but certainly by the magical folk. Loki had boasted of being invited to fae courts, and propositioned by a dozen famous mages. He had his pick of lovers and spouses.
Anthony was a…curiosity, a friend perhaps. Loki wouldn’t want the rust-wing dragon. Or the human weaponsmith.
And yet, in four months, Anthony had fallen as heavily as if he’d lost both wings mid-air. He’d tumbled and tripped until he’d landed at the feet of a mischievous, genius mage. He hung on the prince’s words, and brightened when he scented him entering the forge. Loki could turn his day into a jewel; he need only arrive, and it became special and precious.
But, it was a useless captivation.
Anthony could spend an entire night lying in bed, far from sleep and thinking of his prince. He could follow Loki around the city all day like a man enthralled – but, it would only take one glimpse of silver, one reminder of a wing forged and he’d remember he was fooling himself.
There was nothing for him here but heartache.
Yet, despite knowing better, Anthony never hid away.
He was hiding from the other wyverns—his friends, his kind—and although at times he missed them, he knew that he had no place with them anymore. Loki was different, and despite knowing the risks, he stayed where he could be found - he stayed with Loki.
Anthony knew something would go wrong; it was inevitable. He just didn’t expect how it would happen. How could he?
It had been another normal day, Loki had shown up in the forge, demanding that Anthony put aside his projects and do something fun. Anthony had attempted to protest, but his words didn’t hold any weight. He didn’t have many commissions and he could do them in his sleep.
Loki pestered him until he locked up the forge and followed the mage into the city. It wasn’t uncommon for them to spend the day walking through the streets, but it was unusual for Loki to direct them to the city outskirts.
Anthony had been confused, but he’d played along – at least until they reached the open fields of the Asgardian countryside. The sky was so wide and vast and Anthony itched to unfurl his wings and take to the air – but that wasn’t possible. There was only one wing now, and Loki didn’t know what he was; something only proven by the royal guard standing beside two horses.
Anthony froze and the horses shifted uneasily. Horses and dragons didn’t really mix, not without a lot of coaxing and patience. Horses hadn’t been ridden into battle against dragons in centuries, but some instincts still remained.
“I thought we might take a ride,” Loki remarked, oblivious. “The city can grow so dull, don’t you agree?”
“Um,” Anthony was scrambling for something to say.
He knew if he stepped closer to the stallions, they would rear. Loki might have given up trying to discern what mystical creature he was, but he wouldn’t ignore such unusual behaviour.
“Anthony?” Loki questioned, a hint of concern in his voice.
“I, um, can’t ride,” Anthony said, dragging his eyes away from the horses. Loki looked surprised, and wanting to prevent any offer to teach him, Anthony asked, “Can we walk instead?”
Loki frowned, but he gave a small nod. He made a dismissive gesture with his hand to the guard. They gave a small bow before taking the horses away. Anthony let out a subtle breath of relief before starting to walk. Loki followed along a moment later, his hands lightly clasped behind his back.
Anthony could feel Loki’s eyes on him, but he chose to focus on the surroundings. It truly was beautiful in Asgard: fields of grass and wildflowers rising and falling in hills and valleys. Thick, lush forests spread to the east while mountain ranges with snowy tips could be seen on the edge of the horizon.
They walked in peaceful silence for a few minutes. Anthony was relaxed and happy – until he felt Loki’s arm brush his own. He startled and looked to the side, wondering if it was an accident, but Loki soon removed any doubt. He slowed to a stop but didn’t move away. Anthony matched him, feeling too curious to keep walking.
They turned to face each other, and Anthony was looking up into beautiful green eyes.
“Anthony,” Loki said. “Do you know how easily bored I am?”
Anthony chuckled, wondering if he was through with the countryside already. “As easily bored as I am, I’m sure.”
“Then you’ll understand why I treasure that which captivates me? Why I will not rest until I have what I want in my hands?”
Anthony grinned. “If you’re confessing to being stubborn, I’m afraid you won’t find me surprised.”
“No,” Loki disagreed, but his smile was soft. “I’m confessing to something much different.”
And perhaps, a decade ago, Anthony would have known what was coming; he would have smirked with triumph, pride and satisfaction. He would have assumed what Loki was going to say and do without a hint of doubt.
But, Anthony had spent too many years with a metal wing, and crippled self-confidence. He was waiting for the punchline to Loki’s statement; the trick or the joke. Anthony didn’t expect Loki to slowly bend down and press his lips to Anthony’s in a gentle kiss.
Anthony sucked in a breath, but he didn’t even think before he was pressing back. His arms came up, wrapping around Loki’s neck and tugging him closer. He needed Loki closer. Anthony felt Loki smile and slide his hands around Anthony’s waist.
The kiss deepened and Anthony shuddered with how much he wanted this; how much he wanted Loki. A contented rumble formed in his chest and he wanted to let it free but – but, he couldn’t. His eyes snapped open. Loki’s were still closed, and it was a relief that they were. Anthony knew his eyes would be draconic gold.
He pulled their lips apart and turned away. His heart was racing and despite Loki’s noise of concern and confusion he yanked himself from Loki’s arms and turned his back on the prince. Anthony touched trembling fingers to his lips. He knew his eyes had faded back to brown, but he still felt shaken.
“Anthony?” Loki asked, worry in his voice. “Anthony, what’s wrong?”
The words were one of the hardest Anthony had ever said: they went against every instinct he had. His magic and core were screaming to take, hold, possess and he had to swallow them all down lest he reveal something to Loki.
“We… can’t do that again,” he whispered.
Loki was silent for a long time, before he quietly asked, “Why not?”
Anthony almost looked over his shoulder, but made himself stop. Loki didn’t sound angry or upset, his voice was calm and neutral. Anthony didn’t trust it. He knew that Loki’s mind was running with possibilities and arguments. He was too smart, too stubborn to accept such an answer. It made Anthony feel such fondness that it hurt to keep his back to the prince.
But what else could he do? What else could he say? How could he explain that he was a broken creature with no place in Loki’s life? How could he tell Loki he deserved better than Anthony without explaining all the reasons why?
Anthony was struggling with that problem, trying to come up with something to say when he felt a warm hand on his upper arm. He tensed but didn’t move. Loki stepped closer until there was barely any space between his back and Loki’s front.
“You are interested in me too, Anthony,” Loki said. “Don’t pretend otherwise.”
Anthony swallowed. “That doesn’t matter.”
“I believe it does,” Loki replied. “I also believe you’re afraid of something.”
Anthony sucked in a breath, and in response, Loki rubbed his arm and even bent down to kiss his head in affection and comfort. Anthony melted against Loki without conscious thought, leaning against the other man. He felt Loki smile against his hair.
“I told you, I do not stop until I get what I want,” Loki said. “Especially now that I know you return my affections.”
Anthony gave a weak laugh. “Stubborn without sense.”
“The same could be said for you,” Loki countered, yet, his hand slipped down Anthony’s arm a moment later, not stopping until it reached his hand.
Loki hesitated for only a moment before covering it with his own. Anthony knew he could pull away and Loki would let him. He could separate them again and Loki would patiently wait to reclaim the distance… but, Anthony couldn’t.
He wanted Loki fiercely and the mage wanted him back. Disaster though it was destined to be, Anthony flexed his hand and slid his fingers between Loki’s.
“I shouldn’t let you do this,” Anthony whispered, knowing he needed to protest – knowing Loki deserved better.
“Then it is a good thing I am very convincing,” Loki quipped.
Anthony smiled despite himself and turned his head. He caught Loki’s happy and relieved gaze and felt elation mix with guilt. When Loki bent down to kiss him again, Anthony almost managed to forget the latter.
Almost.
Anthony had never been in this situation before.
There were few things he’d wanted but couldn’t have, and never had something he wanted been held out before him, but he’d been afraid to take it.
Loki was attracted to him, cared for him as well. His touches weren’t just sexual in nature, they were affectionate. He was also willing to wait, an act requiring patience and compassion. Loki’s feelings matched his own – and yet, Anthony knew that he couldn’t accept them.
So, why couldn’t he push Loki away?
They walked hand in hand through the fields that day and Loki kissed him against the grass and the trunk of a tree. Anthony got whisked away by Loki’s smiles and charms and forgot why this was wrong.
But, he remembered when they returned to the city.
Anthony shied away from Loki when he saw the hundreds of people who crowded Asgard’s streets. People far better suited for someone like Loki then him. He’d felt Loki gaze on him as they walked; his expression unhappy.
When they returned to Anthony’s forge, he’d tried to bid Loki farewell and close the door on him, but Loki didn’t let him. He leant into the doorframe until Anthony was forced to catch determined emerald eyes.
“Whatever you are afraid of, I will not let it stand in our way.”
Anthony laughed harshly. “You don’t even know what it is.”
“I will listen if you wish to tell me.”
Anthony’s face drained of colour and emotion, but Loki just smiled sadly and didn’t push. He lifted his hand and stroked Anthony’s cheek. “I will wait too, if that’s what I need to do.”
“Why?” Anthony asked, the word ripping free. “Why? There are so many others, so many-”
“They are not you,” Loki replied quietly. “You are the one who holds my interest.”
Anthony closed his eyes, the words warming him more than the fire of his forge. He leant into Loki’s hand and a moment later, Loki was cupping his cheek and drawing him into a kiss. Anthony pressed back, but didn’t let himself get lost – his eyes remained brown and his mind remained clear.
When they pulled apart, Loki stroked a thumb along his cheekbone. “I will not let you sabotage us, Anthony. I don’t care how long you take to trust me.”
Anthony swallowed. “This is a terrible idea.”
“Some of the best ideas seem that way at the start,” Loki countered.
Anthony snorted and started to grin and Loki ducked in to kiss him again. It was only a fleeting touch before he pulled back and promised, “I will be back tomorrow.”
He reached for Anthony’s hand and clasped it, squeezing gently before bringing it to Loki’s lips. He kissed the back while his other hand slid into his pocket. Anthony frowned, but Loki moved quickly and before he could react, a small gold band was slid onto his index finger.
Anthony looked down at it with surprise. It was a simple piece of metal with etchings of twining branches and two flowers. It was a human courting gesture, but it was also a dragon courting gesture. The gift of treasure to a dragon marked the start of any true courtship.
Anthony knew that Loki was oblivious to the second meaning, but it made his heart feel constricted by a vice.
“Loki,” he whispered, his voice rough. “This is… I can’t…”
“You can,” Loki insisted, his voice gaining a hint of steel. “This is my gift to you. I want you to have it.” His expression softened. “Please, accept it.”
Swallowing, Anthony gave a small nod, his eyes falling back to the ring and their still clasped hands. He only looked away when Loki let him go. Loki offered him a small smile and a nod of his head.
“Until tomorrow,” he promised before turning on his heel and walking away.
Anthony watched the prince until he was out of sight before closing the door and stepping into his forge. The moment he was alone he closed his eyes and rested his forehead on the wood.
I should tell him what I am, he thought.
Yet, Anthony didn’t know how to explain. A broken dragon with a damaged wing; captured and torn from his place of pride. Rejected by his own kind and forced to live in hiding.
How was he any match for a handsome mage like Loki? How could he hope to compete with the other creatures and humans in the world?
But, he gave me a ring.
Looking down at the band, Anthony touched it and slowly spun it around his finger.
If Loki wished to court him as a common human… maybe he would not mind knowing Anthony was an imperfect wyvern? Loki would be back tomorrow. Perhaps, he could confess to Loki and let the axe fall where it may.
Loki deserved the truth, and even if it was a disaster and Anthony needed to flee Asgard broken-hearted at least Loki would be able to start again.
He could find someone better – someone who wasn’t Anthony.
Anthony didn’t sleep that night. He paced his forge and twirled the ring around his finger. He tried to think of what to say to Loki, how to explain what he was and why he’d kept it hidden.
But, when the sun rose and bathed the city in a golden glow, Anthony was no nearer to an answer.
He did make something for Loki; a dragon courting gift that he could wear with pride. Loki didn’t wear a helmet into battle, but Anthony had designed one in the shape and colour of his horns. They would gleam gold under the sun and let any dragon in the kingdom know that Loki was taken.
It would also allow Anthony to track his prince should he ever be in jeopardy.
The horned emblem was stunning and Anthony stroked the horns, feeling the warmth of his forge within them. Anthony had even let some of his guise slip, crafting the flames entirely from his own breath. It made the armour more special and magical.
He longed to see Loki don them and present them for the world to see, but Anthony knew he had to tell Loki the truth first. It was why he decided to leave for the markets early to purchase some of Loki’s favourite tea. It was expensive so he rarely stocked it, not wishing to show the extent of his riches – but for the conversation they needed to have, he wanted Loki comfortable and receptive.
Only the finest stores stocked the brand, so he headed into the centre of the city. They were the populated areas he rarely frequented, but he had been there more than once with Loki.
He bought the tea, as well as some sweet pastries the prince was fond of and before he could stop himself, he also bought a green woollen scarf. Anthony knew he was being foolish, but he couldn’t help his instincts. They wanted to claim Loki as his own and dote on his partner.
A dragon’s treasure was only special when it was shared with another, when it was spent and draped on another – Anthony wanted Loki coated in jewels and gold and items bought by Anthony. His instincts were rushing through his body, hammering his heart and making his fingers twitch.
He tried to calm himself down, to keep his eyes from flaring gold or his body from rushing towards the palace gates in the hopes of finding his prince.
And yet, he was already so attuned, already yearning for Loki, that even in a busy, bustling market square, he quirked his head and turned, able to locate the prince despite the loud, rushing crowd.
Loki was walking languidly, his body relaxed and carrying a soft delight that Anthony couldn’t remember seeing. It was obvious he was heading towards Anthony’s forge. He was happy to be going there, and the knowledge made Anthony flood with affection and warmth.
It didn’t take long for Loki to notice him.
His eyes skimmed the people absently only to dart back and lock on Anthony. He blinked only to frown and hurry forward.
“Anthony?” he asked when he was near. “What are you…” he trailed off when he saw the items in Anthony’s arms. Anthony almost flushed, especially when Loki quirked a smile. “Did you purchase tea?” He touched the green wool fondly. “And a scarf?”
“I woke early.”
Loki’s smile grew. “And felt an urge to buy items you cannot stand? You must be ill.”
Anthony rolled his eyes and carefully removed an arm from his items so he could shove Loki. The prince chuckled, and although he rocked with the shove, he soon stepped closer, moving into Anthony’s personal space with a smile. He ducked in quickly, before Anthony could react and pressed his lips to Anthony’s temple.
The touch made him close his eyes and sigh softly, tension falling from his shoulders at having the mage so close. Anthony was too far gone, and he knew it.
It was why he opened his eyes and unwrapped the scarf. It took a bit of manoeuvring but he managed to get it unfolded and thrown around Loki’s neck. The mage’s eyes were soft as he helped Anthony settle it properly. Anthony tugged gently at one of the ends, grinning at the sight it made.
“You are beautiful,” Anthony told him.
He was rewarded by Loki’s cheeks turning a soft pink. He cleared his throat and looked away. “Yes, well. I’m also hungry. I did not eat breakfast. Perhaps we could eat at the-”
“Anthony!”
The shout interrupted Loki and made the prince turn to look behind him. Anthony’s face had turned ashen with despair, and yet, at the same time, a traitorous stab of joy erupted within him as the dark-skinned man pushed through the crowd to reach him.
The people went to glare at him, only to stop short and bow their heads in respect as they saw the man’s golden eyes. He didn’t stop until he was able to reach Anthony. He grabbed Anthony’s hands, forcing him to drop the bag of tea and pastries, but he barely noticed as his wrists were squeezed.
“Anthony.”
Anthony swallowed. “Rhodey.”
The other wyvern leant close and pressed their foreheads together. “I thought I would never see you again.”
Anthony closed his eyes. “You weren’t supposed to.”
He pulled away, but Rhodey held firm to his wrists. Anthony looked back to find his oldest friend glaring at him.
“That’s not good enough. Damn it, Anthony. You left in the middle of the night! You left without telling me! I woke up and you were gone!”
“I couldn’t stay!” Anthony hissed. “You know I couldn’t! You heard what they said! You…” Anthony growled and pulled his hands away, taking a step back. “I couldn’t, Rhodey.”
“But-”
“Forget it, forget me. You didn’t see me, Rhodey. You weren’t meant to find me.”
“Anthony!”
Rhodey tried to reach for him again, but even though Anthony stepped backwards, it wasn’t his movements that stopped Rhodey, it was Loki’s hand closing firmly around Rhodey’s wrist.
Anthony had almost forgotten the prince was there, but he jerked his gaze to him now. Loki was glaring at Rhodey. He didn’t seem to care that Rhodey’s eyes were flaring with agitation. Loki knew Rhodey was a dragon and he didn’t show an ounce of respect or fear.
“He doesn’t want you to touch him,” Loki said, his voice a low protective growl.
Rhodey’s ire rose. “What right do you have to speak for him?”
Loki’s jaw clenched, but he didn’t back down. “Anthony is my… friend. I will not hesitate to help him, no matter who I have to stand against.”
The anger in Rhodey’s eyes receded and he glanced between the two of them. Anthony hesitated for all of a moment before stepping closer to Loki, he pressed his arm against the prince’s. Loki didn’t relax, but Anthony felt better for making at least some of his intentions clear.
“You and… him?” Rhodey questioned, a heavy amount of disbelief in his voice.
Anthony couldn’t blame him, even before his injury had made him withdraw from others, Anthony had been the dragon no one expected to settle down. He was disinclined to stay with someone longer than a few days, let alone choose a romantic partnership with them.
Regardless, he gave a small jerk of his head in agreement. His eyes also pleaded for Rhodey to let him go, to leave so Anthony could disappear again.
Rhodey didn’t look happy, and he said, “We will talk. I am not leaving this city until I have spoken to you, at length, but I will go, for now.” Rhodey narrowed his eyes. “But we will talk, Anthony. I will besiege this kingdom if I have to, you’re not leaving without an explanation this time.”
Anthony winced, but knowing his friend meant every word, he gave a nod of understanding and agreement.
Rhodey softened. “I am glad you are well, Anthony.”
“I’m glad you are too,” Anthony admitted, his voice thickening with emotion.
Rhodey smiled and twisted his wrist, breaking Loki’s hold without effort. He stepped close before Loki could react and pulled Anthony into a hug. Anthony curled into his friend’s arms, holding him close and remembering a thousand hugs in the past – both in human form and in their natural state.
It hurt a little to pull away, but he knew they were attracting attention. He let his friend go and Rhodey squeezed his arm before stepping back.
“You’ll know how to find me?” Rhodey questioned.
Anthony nodded. It would take longer than a few years in a human form to forget how to track his oldest friend. Rhodey gave him one more smile before turning and disappearing back into the crowd. Anthony watched until he had no further excuse, he then pulled in a breath and turned to face Loki.
The mage’s expression was blank, but Anthony could see the tension in his shoulders and jaw. He didn’t say a word, but he didn’t have to; they needed to talk now more than ever.
Bending down, Anthony picked up the dropped tea and pastries. The ground was dry and they weren’t spoiled, he dusted them from dirt and looked back at the prince. “We’ll speak at my forge.”
Loki didn’t reply verbally, instead he started walking, Anthony didn’t flinch, but he felt the pain like a shard to his heart. They weren’t touching and Loki had his back to Anthony. It felt like the beginning of the end.
Anthony stared at the tea in his hands and wished he could go back to only a few minutes ago, when Loki had stepped into his space and kissed his temple. When, for a few moments, Anthony had felt happy and hopeful.
Their walk back to the forge was silent and when they stepped inside, Anthony felt nothing but discomfort and fear. This was the moment he had dreaded from the start.
He turned his back to Loki to place the tea and pastries on one of his benches, it made it easier to keep the trembling of his hands from Loki’s sight.
“This is why you resisted my overtures,” Loki said, his voice loud in the quiet of the forge.
Anthony’s shoulders tensed, but he gave a stiff nod. Loki had finally discerned his secret.
“A dragon,” Loki murmured. He then gave a bitter laugh. “No wonder. Incredibly powerful, highly revered. I wonder what could possibly have made you leave. Surely, no other lover could compare.”
It took a moment for the words to register past his pain and grief, but when they did, Anthony turned to face Loki with confusion.
The mage was standing with his arms crossed at the opposite side of the forge. His jaw was clenched and his posture closed off – and yet, Anthony could see the hurt and beneath that, the disappointment.
“It’s a wonder,” Loki continued, “why you didn’t rush back into his arms.” His lips twitched wryly and he glanced at his scarf. “We are hardly committed.”
“Loki,” Anthony whispered, hurrying to close the distance, although he didn’t dare touch the prince. “Loki, no. Rhodey is my friend. My oldest friend. He’s not… we were never lovers.”
Surprise flashed across his face. Loki’s arms loosened, but he didn’t uncross them.
“How are you friends with a dragon?”
Anthony shifted nervously, knowing this would be all the infomation he needed. “It’s an answer you’ve sought from the start.”
Loki’s brow furrowed before suddenly they cleared and shock made his expression go slack.
“You’re a dragon?”
“A wyvern,” Anthony admitted. His hands twitched and he found he couldn’t meet Loki’s eyes. “We don’t have four feet. We’re still… dragons. We’re just different. We have wings – well,” Anthony cringed and rubbed his neck. “They… do.”
“You don’t?” Loki asked.
Anthony flinched. “I… lost one. I’m… damaged, broken,” he laughed, but it sounded more like a wince. “Rust-wing. I… made it.” Anthony closed his eyes. “I’m sorry. I’m not… I came here to hide. To stay away, and stay like this.” He gestured at himself only to clench his fists a moment later. He made himself raise his head and hold Loki’s eyes. “I’m a failure. I’m lesser and Loki, you deserve something so much better than me.”
When he finished, Anthony had to look away, he couldn’t watch realisation crest Loki’s eyes. He couldn’t see pity or discomfort replace fondness. But, his refusal to look meant he was unprepared for warm, delicate hands clasping his own. He jerked and looked up at Loki. The mage had a half-smile on his lips.
“You were afraid I would think less of you for your injury?”
Anthony opened his mouth, not sure what to say, but feeling fear in his breast as he waited for Loki’s decree. Loki didn’t seem to need an answer to his question, not if the softening of his face was any indication. His eyes seemed sad, and yet, his smile was as affectionate as it was yesterday in the fields.
“Anthony, I stopped caring what you were months ago.” He stepped closer, and Anthony’s heart sped up. “The only thing I care about is whether you care for me too.” He chuckled. “And whether I have to fight a dragon for your hand or not.”
Anthony let out a startled laugh, and yet, all too soon, the laugh turned into more of a sob. Loki just tugged on his hands and Anthony came willingly. He pressed against Loki and wrapped his arms around the prince in a tight hug. He closed his eyes and revelled in the warmth, scent and comfort of Loki’s arms around his back.
This time, when the rumble of contentment formed in his chest, he let it out in a soft purr. He felt Loki startle and look down at him. Anthony dared to shift his head and open his eyes, knowing they would be draconic gold.
Loki’s gaze was filled with awe and he brought his fingers to Anthony’s cheek, touching just below Anthony’s eye.
“You truly are a dragon.” He laughed incredulously. “And I am the one who has captured your attention.” A proud smirk curled his lips. “I will have to find you a larger courting gift for your true form.”
The smile on Anthony’s lips faded at Loki’s words. Loki noticed and frowned. “What is it?”
“You want to see it?” Anthony’s eyes fell to Loki’s scarf. “It’s not… pretty.”
“I’m certain it is,” Loki said, his words leaving no room for doubt. “You make the finest weapons in the kingdom. If you have crafted yourself a wing, I know it will be the most stunning creation I will ever see.”
Anthony found it hard to swallow and he was certain his cheeks were pink. He pressed his face into Loki’s chest and breathed the other man in, needing a few moments to get himself back under control.
He still didn’t feel ready for this. Loki had no idea what he was asking to see. Anthony’s natural wing was gold and red to match his form. Other wyverns shone green, purple, grey, orange – all the colours of the world, but only he had one of metal.
It couldn’t be beautiful for Loki, but maybe it would be acceptable.
A keen of grief wanted to escape, a noise designed to seek comfort from his loved ones, but he refused to give it voice. Anthony breathed Loki in one more time before he moved to step back – but, Loki didn’t let him go.
He frowned and looked up at the mage. Loki was still smiling.
“Surely, your form is too large for your forge?”
Anthony’s frown deepened. “Of course.”
“Then, shall I teleport us somewhere?”
Anthony hesitated for a moment before relaxing back into Loki’s hold and nodding. Teleportation wasn’t a skill that dragons fostered. They could fly anywhere they wished and preferred the long journey through the air over instantaneous travel. Anthony also had limited magic when in his human form, it was only when he shook off skin for scales that his magic would be accessible. It was an ethereal blue to match his underbelly. He used it to project information in the past. He’d flash it around his cave using puzzles and codes that even his fellow wyvern couldn’t decipher. Rhodey used to tell him his arrogance would get him in trouble someday.
He’d been right.
Anthony shook off the thought and focused instead on Loki. He nuzzled his face against the mage’s chest, enjoying his warmth. He felt Loki’s magic prickle the air and build before tugging them from the forge to the place of Loki’s choosing.
Anthony smelt nature and fresh air and opened his eyes to look around. They were in a forest clearing, protected on all sides by tall, thick trees. Loki had taken him somewhere that was safe, and far from prying eyes.
Affection flooded his chest and Anthony didn’t think before he was shifting and pressing up on his toes. Loki startled when their lips touched in a kiss, but he soon cupped Anthony’s cheeks and deepened the embrace.
Anthony closed his eyes and enjoyed the soft, languid kiss. It was something Anthony could do for an eternity – it was something he would do, if Loki could see past his disfigurement.
It was why, no matter how he longed to stay in this moment, he made himself pull away from Loki. The mage resisted for a moment before letting him go. His hands did linger in the air before he dropped them to his side. Anthony couldn’t hold Loki’s expectant gaze. It had been a long time since he’d shown this form to anyone.
Rhodey’s face had pinched when he’d seen Anthony’s wing. Pepper had cried. The other wyvern had twisted their faces in disgust or outwardly mocked him. He didn’t know what to expect from Loki, but he was already bracing for what was to come.
Closing his eyes, he forced his breathing to become even as he searched inside himself for the form he had locked away. It came easily, springing to his mind with joy at the prospect of being released. His magic hummed with delight and his body rippled. It was like sliding into comfortable clothes, or a warm bath. His wing did itch and scrape against his senses, something inherently wrong, but only for a moment before it accepted the transformation and joined the rest of his body.
He noticed his own weight first; firm and heavy, followed by his size and heightened senses.
It was then that he smelt it: not fear, disgust or sadness but affection and awe. Anthony’s eyes snapped open and he looked at Loki. The prince was taller than Anthony when he wore his human form, but now he was so small.
Loki was smiling widely. His expression held not a single mask; Loki was revealing his honesty, delight and incredulity. He walked forward without a hint of fear.
“Anthony,” he said. “You are beautiful.” He looked over Anthony’s body before settling on his metal wing. “And this is a work of pure art. The design is flawless. Anthony, you are incredible.”
This time, Anthony didn’t fight his keen. He moved forward, and despite his size and power, Loki didn’t move away or stop grinning. Anthony took care not to harm his human as he possessively wrapped his claws around him and drew him close.
He lowered his snout and Loki brought up a hand, brushing it affectionately. “There is nothing about you that isn’t stunning.”
Loki scratched gently over Anthony’s scales and he purred and pressed into the touch.Loki laughed and the sound made Anthony’s heart swell. He also called for his magic, finding the item he had made only last night.
It appeared before Loki and made the man blink with surprise. A moment later he took the helmet from the air. He gently stroked over one of the horns before smirking. He held Anthony’s eyes with amusement.
“I see the rumours about dragons being possessive were not exaggerated.”
Anthony tightened his hold on Loki in response, it wasn’t constrictive, but it made his intentions clear. Loki chuckled. His outfit also shimmered, changing from casual clothing to the battle armour Anthony enjoyed so much. Loki placed the helmet on his head to complete the look.
He quirked an eyebrow. “Do you approve, my dragon?”
Anthony let out a soft purr of satisfaction and gently nudged his snout against Loki’s cheek. It was the closest to a kiss he could give in this form, and Loki seemed to understand by the softening of his features.
He ran his hand over Anthony again.
“But, now I must give my own gift. The ring can not be carried over to this form, and I won’t be outdone.”
Anthony huffed a laugh. Loki continued to absently stroke Anthony even as he seemed lost in thought. Anthony didn’t mind, he felt too happy to mind. Loki was resting in his claws and wearing his helmet. He thought Anthony was beautiful and didn’t find fault in his wing.
Anthony felt so happy he could take to the air and do loops in the sky – but, he didn’t want to move away from Loki. He settled for admiring the sight of his human. Could there be anything greater than this?
“Ah!” Loki suddenly announced, his expression clearing and a proud smirk touching his lips.
Anthony waited eagerly for what he would produce. Loki held out his hands and Anthony felt the mage’s magic flare through the air. His own magic hummed and came out to meet it. Loki’s delight only deepened as green met blue until in the air between them a large blue orb appeared.
Curious, Anthony moved his snout closer. It was a conduit and storage space for magic. It was mostly empty, but enough of Loki’s magic crackled around the edges that anyone who saw or sensed it would know Loki had created it.
Loki shifted in his hold but only enough that he could look at Anthony’s wing. “I think this could be more than just a feat of engineering.” Loki caught Anthony’s eyes. “I believe, you should make it more powerful than any wyvern’s wing has ever been.” He brought a hand to touch Anthony’s snout. “Make them regret ever daring to say this was anything but incredible.”
Anthony shuddered with too many emotions. He wanted to both shift into his human form to kiss Loki, and stay in his wyvern form so that he might never let Loki go. He settled for tugging him in even closer and using his magic to raise Loki’s gift into the air.
It wasn’t difficult to alter his wing and slide the orb into place between the metal – in fact, it seemed to open up to the orb, as if it had been waiting to receive it all along. The moment it fell into place, Anthony’s magic rushed towards it, filling the orb and making him suck in a breath.
He looked at his wing and flexed it. The metal had always felt stiff and heavy, but now it seemed more alive than ever before as if his magic had finally accepted the metal as a part of him, rather than an attachment. He flexed it absently, and grinned when a few bolts of blue magic escaped.
Anthony turned back to Loki who was smiling at him with such affection. Anthony couldn’t smile back, but he hoped his gratitude and delight shone from his eyes. When Loki touched him again, Anthony let a small huff of smoke escape. He used a hint of magic to change the shape and he was rewarded by Loki’s surprised laughter.
But, if he couldn’t say how much he adored Loki, he could at least offer him a heart of smoke.
And, when Loki traced a heart against his scales in response, Anthony knew that not only had he been understood, but his feelings were reciprocated.
Somehow, he’d found happiness, and Anthony would fight the world, the wyverns and the kingdom of Asgard before he let his Loki go.
