Chapter Text
Leon, 12 years old and desperately in love, watches the boy in front of him with awe and pride.
Raihan was moving with power and grace despite his lanky body, dodging attacks from his older opponent with ease. The knight he was sparring with was getting frustrated, too, angry he was being bested by a 13-year-old. Raihan dodges neatly to the side, avoiding another attack that would have sliced through him had he not moved in time. Leon was starting to get worried, though he knew his friend would be fine.
He knew Raihan was a strong swordsman, knew Raihan was training to be the Champion, but he couldn’t help his nerves. He just wanted him to be safe.
Leon watched with bated breath as the knight’s attacks grew more aggressive with each turn. Raihan parried and blocked and dodged, but Leon could tell it was beginning to wear on him. He didn’t yet have the stamina of the older knight, and it was starting to show.
Leon bites his tongue to keep from crying out as the sword arcs through the air and nearly slices through Raihan’s face. The smell of blood enters the arena and Leon sits forward in his seat, heart in his throat. Had Raihan gotten hurt?
The two opponents pull away from each other, catching their breath, and Leon watches with horror as a thin line of blood trickles down from a nasty cut on Raihan’s brow. He brings his hand up and touches the wound gently, wincing slightly, and Leon is about to speak up, to demand that the match was over, that the knight had gone too far, when Raihan pulls his hand away and grins, sharp and dangerous.
The arena was very still for a long moment, everyone focused on the two knights in the center of the ring before Raihan lunges forward with an intensity Leon had yet to see from the other boy.
His opponent yelps in surprise as suddenly Raihan was on him, sword flashing through the air. Leon can’t help but gasp as Raihan simply...overwhelms the older knight with a barrage of attacks, deadly and graceful and absolutely stunning .
The same thought occurs to Leon that occurs to everyone else in the arena. Raihan had been holding back before, hadn’t been truly using his full strength. Leon grips the edge of the bench he was sitting on and leans forward, unwilling to miss even a second of Raihan’s sure victory.
And what a victory it was.
The battle ends with the older knight disarmed and on his back, the tip of Raihan’s sword pressed neatly against his throat.
Leon rushes forward as Raihan steps back and sheathes his sword, practically tackling his friend in a giant hug.
“That was amazing, Rai!” he gushes, beaming up at his surprised friend. “ You were amazing!”
Raihan laughs, his cheeks turning dark with blush, and Leon loves it, loves him.
“Not as amazing as you, Lee,” he mumbles awkwardly, never knowing how to take a compliment. “You would’ve disarmed him in a minute! I saw the way you fought earlier, you’re a right beast.”
Now it’s Leon’s turn to blush and he pulls away, albeit somewhat reluctantly, to scratch at the back of his neck.
“Thanks, Rai,” he laughs. “But I won’t let you get out of accepting my praise that easily!”
Raihan hides his smile behind a groan, but Leon sees it anyway.
He grabs Raihan by the hand and all but drags him in the direction of medical, chattering about how amazing his friend was the whole way there. By the time the two boys reach the healer’s tent, Raihan is thoroughly flustered and beet red.
They hold hands the whole time, Leon giving Raihan a comforting squeeze while the nurse stitches up the cut above his eye and casts a simple healing spell over it.
Raihan winces as the skin knits back together under her hand and when she’s done he touches it gingerly, feeling along the shiny new skin.
“I closed the wound,” the nurse says, pulling away. “But unfortunately there’s nothing I can do about the scarring.”
Raihan nods, looking a little disappointed and Leon gives his hand another squeeze as they both get up to leave.
“Is it bad?” Raihan asks him, worriedly, when they’re out of earshot.
Leon knows Raihan had always been self-conscious, especially about his face, though he usually hides it behind a thick layer of faked confidence, so Leon answers truthfully.
“I think you’re handsome,” Leon says, and can hear Raihan take a sharp breath at his words. “A little scarring isn’t going to change that. Plus,” he teases. “It makes you look more rugged. Dangerous , even.”
Raihan stares at him, his blue eyes piercing through Leon like spears, and then he laughs loudly, flushing red high on his cheeks.
“Are you saying I wasn’t dangerous before?” He snickers.
“No,” Leon starts to laugh as well. “I just was saying you didn’t look dangerous.”
Raihan brings a hand to his chest in mock offense.
“Oh, Prince Leon,” he gasps, teasing and light. “How could you say things that wound me so?”
“Come off it!” Leon laughs, smacking Raihan on the shoulder lightly.
They laugh for a while, trading jokes back and forth, still holding hands until someone clears their throat behind them and Leon goes rigid.
He drops Raihan’s hand instantly and whips around, wincing a little when he catches sight of who had interrupted them.
Chairman Rose, main advisor to Leon’s father, the King.
Rose glances between the two boys with an unreadable look before he turns to Leon.
“Prince Leon,” he says in his cold, hard voice. “Your father has fallen ill. Your presence is requested in his quarters immediately.”
Leon feels his stomach drop and he nods, shakily. Chairman Rose beckons him to follow as he turns away, heading towards the castle gates.
Leon glances at Raihan, and the other boy nods, looking stricken.
“Go,” He tells Leon in a quiet voice. “I’ll be here.”
Leon swallows hard and nods as well, turning away to follow Chairman Rose to the castle. They walk in silence and right as they’re about to enter the main gates, Leon looks back over his shoulder, searching for one last look at his friend.
Raihan stands, little more than a figure in the distance, and lifts his hand in a wave.
Leon waves back, once, feeling strange and unbalanced.
Something was changing, and Leon’s unsure when he’ll get the chance to see Raihan again. The idea scares him more than he thought it would.
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11 years later
Leon watches the dragon circle in the sky above him and feels….apprehensive.
He’s not nervous, per se, not like he thought he’d be at least. Leon was a prince and the Champion, first and foremost, and knew the importance of his duty- the importance of what he was doing today.
He was here to appease the dragon. A sacrifice.
About a year ago, rumors of a monster in the Glimwood Tangle had reached the ears of the kingdom. Knights had gone to investigate and had come back smoking and smoldering, speaking tales of a giant dragon that had taken residence at the abandoned Hammerlocke Tower in the mountains.
The dragon hadn’t bothered them, not yet, but everyone was nervous. Fear permeated the air every time news of the dragon being spotted reached the town.
So King Rose made the decision to act first. Their knights were strong but not strong enough to fight a dragon that large and win. Rose knew this. The knights knew this. Leon knew this.
It was decided that Leon would go as a sacrifice instead. His life to appease the beast.
As much as it scared Leon, he’d seen the terror that had taken over his people’s lives and knew it was for the best. It was his duty.
He hated that he had to remind himself of that.
The horse underneath him snorts in fear as the dragon passes over them, heading deeper into the Tangle to hunt.
Rose hums next to him, probably relieved that the dragon would be gone when they arrived. Leon was surprised the man was even here if he was honest. King Rose never really allowed himself to be put in any danger. He’d half expected the man to see him off at the castle gates. Leon was almost positive he was only here to make sure the prince didn’t end up running away.
Before Leon’s father had died, the old King had named Rose his successor, saying he trusted the man to do his people right. Leon had been too grief-stricken to see the signs back then, had been too busy taking care of his baby brother and mother to see what Rose was doing.
Manipulation, a drop of poison here and there, and soon Rose had the Kingdom of Galar to himself. And Leon was next in line for the throne, so it only made sense that Rose would want him out of the way. The opportunity had presented itself in this dragon, and Rose took it. Now he wanted to see it through.
Leon allows himself a moment of anger, hot and vicious, before tucking it away deep in his chest.
The nervous atmosphere from the knights thickened the closer the party got to the dragon’s lair.
After a couple more minutes, Hammerlocke Tower came into view, standing proud and tall against the rocky landscape of the mountains. It was several stories high and covered in a thick, winding ivy. The smell of fire was strong but not overwhelming, almost like a large campfire that had recently been put out. Bones littered the scorched ground, bright white against the rocks.
There was no stench of death, Leon noted with slight surprise. The bones were completely clean, too, no hint of leftover or rotten meat at their ends.
Strange , he thinks. He keeps this information to himself.
Leon is the first to dismount, his feet hitting the ground with a decisive thunk.
One of the braver knights dismounts as well and glances at the prince worriedly.
“Are you ready, Your Highness?” the man asks, pulling a length of rope out of his bag.
Leon nods, not trusting his voice, and the guard swallows hard.
“There.” Rose points to an outcropping a little way from the entrance to the dragon’s lair. “Tie him to the rock.”
The knight nods, eyes sad, and leads Leon to where the King had pointed. He ties Leon’s wrists together and then wraps the rope around the rock methodically, making sure it wouldn’t come loose.
“I’m so sorry, my Prince.” the knight says softly, too low for Rose and the others to hear. “I wish there was another way.”
Leon smiles sadly at him. He recognizes the man, distantly, as one of the few knights who had been outwardly kind to him and Raihan, back when the two of them were still young. Most knights had looked at the two of them with distaste, not liking how much better they were despite their age. It had grated on their nerves to be bested by teenagers, and though no one had said a word to Leon (as he was the prince and all), he knew that it had taken its toll on Raihan.
“As much as I wish the same,” Leon says, voice sure despite the fear and sadness and anger that battle within him. “This is what must be done. It is my duty.”
The knight nods slowly, not convinced, and steps back. Leon tests his bonds. They don’t budge, and he takes a deep breath.
“Go,” He warns the knight. “Before the dragon comes back.”
The man looks conflicted for a few seconds before he grabs Leon’s bound hands tightly.
“May Arceus watch over you.” He says, and Leon feels a little like crying.
The knight leaves without another word, heading back towards the King, who watches Leon with a sharp frown.
“Remember your duty, Prince.” He calls out, voice cold, before turning his horse away. Leon wants to laugh in his face. He’s spent his life remembering his duty, never had a break. Rose had always wanted Leon to be perfect and had made it clear he expected nothing less.
Leon watches the group shrink into the distance before finally disappearing into the woods.
At least he’s finally free from royal duty, he thinks to himself.
The sky was heavy with clouds, the smell of rain just barely there behind the scent of fire and smoke. The sun was long gone, hidden behind the rainclouds that threatened a downpour in the near future. It felt fitting.
He’d never see the sun again.
The first drops of rain fall against his face and Leon shivers. A small part of him hopes the dragon comes back before he gets too cold.
He waits, the rock pressing against his back painfully, the rain soaking him to the bone. He loses track of time rather quickly. The party had left the kingdom in the early morning, had planned to reach the tower by midday, so Leon supposes it must be early afternoon at the latest.
He didn’t know how long it takes dragons to hunt. The dragon could be gone for days, for all he knows. He could die of cold and hunger before the dragon even returned, and then what good will he have been? Leon groans, frustrated, and tugs at his bonds. If only they’d tied him up inside the tower. At least then he’d be dry.
Knowing Rose he’d probably planned this. Leon snorts.
He’d never been a very patient person. Still, he has no choice but to wait.
Leon crosses his legs underneath himself and sits, sighing deeply.
His mind wanders, and he thinks about what his father would think of him now, his proud son nothing but a pawn for Rose to use however he pleased. At least Leon had become Champion, right? His father would’ve been proud of that, at least.
Not that it was that hard after Raihan left , his brain tells him, mean and spiteful and oh-so-true. Leon leans his head back against the hard rock and closes his eyes, feeling the rain hit his face and plaster his clothes to his skin. Not for the first time, Leon thinks of Raihan.
There’s a 14-year-old boy inside of Leon that misses his friend desperately, that wishes he could turn back time to see him one more time. The 23-year-old Leon knows this is impossible, that Raihan’s most likely dead, and even if he wasn’t, he would probably hate Leon’s guts anyway. They hadn’t parted on good terms. Leon forces away memories of Raihan and their last meeting as the sound of beating wings alerts him to the dragon’s return.
A nervous fear settles itself in the pit of his stomach. Unconsciously, he presses himself closer against the rock and watches as a large shape flies down from the grey sky and circles the tower. Leon feels his jaw drop a little.
The dragon was huge and beautiful in a dangerous way. Sinewy muscles bulged and bunched as the dragon touched down near the entrance, its large wings folding up neatly against its back. It shakes itself, iridescent dark blue scales shimmering in the rain. Its crest and horns were bright orange, while its underbelly was a light golden color. It holds in its mouth a large boar, which Leon guesses had been its prey this morning.
The dragon drops its meal on the ground and shakes itself again, huffing out a small puff of smoke. A long tongue licks out of its mouth and cleans the blood off its sharp teeth. Leon can’t keep himself from gasping at the sight, and the dragon’s head snaps towards his direction at the noise.
A low growl erupts from deep within the dragon’s chest and it roars, shaking the ground. Leon yelps in fear and presses back farther against the rock. The dragon stalks forward, baring its teeth at Leon, dangerous and beautiful and oh god he’s going to die-
This is it , Leon closes his eyes, curling in on himself. This is it.
He expects sharp teeth, or fire, or claws, or anything, but nothing happens for a very long time. Hot breath puffs against Leon’s skin and he flinches, but besides that, the dragon doesn’t do anything. Leon cracks an eye open and jumps at how close the beast had gotten, making a rather undignified noise. The dragon was right in front of him, peering at him in shock and surprise with bright, icy blue eyes. Leon shivers and stares at the dragon, its eyes reminding him of-
Its mouth opens, the long, sharp teeth even more intimidating up close, and Leon nearly jumps out of his skin when it….clears its throat?
“What are you doing here?” The dragon asks in a deep, raspy voice. It was clear that it hadn’t spoken in a long time. Leon swallows hard, terrified.
“I am Leon, Prince of the Kingdom of Galar,” he says, voice smaller than he wanted it to be.
“That does not answer my question, Prince of Galar.” the dragon rasps, its breath hot and humid against Leon’s skin.
“I am Leon, Prince of the Kingdom of Galar,” He repeats again, voice not wavering this time as he continues. “I am here as a sacrifice, to appease you, and to try and convince you not to attack our lands.”
The dragon stares at him, unreadable, for a very long time. Leon has to fight the urge to squirm under the dragon’s piercing stare, wanting to seem strong and determined. He did not feel strong or determined, but the dragon didn’t have to know that.
“You are a sacrifice to appease me?” The dragon asks, head moving to peer at Leon closer. “Why?”
Leon swallows at the closeness but he can’t move any farther away, not with the rock already pressed against the planes of his back.
“My people are….scared.” He says slowly, unsure. “They want to be sure you won’t attack their villages and farms. The King decided I was the best candidate to go.”
Leon hated calling Rose the King.
The dragon snorts out a puff of smoke and pulls back its mighty head, accepting Leon’s answer.
He shivers, the rain finally getting to him. Leon was freezing, his teeth chattering violently in his jaw as he pulls his knees to his chest to try and keep warm. The dragon looks at him for another moment before it extends a single claw in his direction. Leon fights the urge to flinch back as it approaches, but instead of gutting him right then and there as Leon had thought it would, the claw slices through the thick ropes with ease, freeing him.
The dragon then grabs Leon by the back of his shirt with the same claw and lifts him off the ground. Leon yelps loudly and grabs onto the dragon’s hand in order to anchor himself as the creature begins to move towards the tower entrance.
He’s dropped rather unceremoniously on the ground inside the tower as the dragon moves farther in, shooting a short burst of flame at a pile of wood in the center of the room. The fire roars to life almost instantly, warmth rushing into the room and chasing away the cold. Leon, keeping an eye on the dragon, inches as close to the fire as he humanly could, shivering violently.
He feels the dragon’s eyes on him as he warms his bones and sniffles. He’d been out in the cold rain too long, could already feel himself getting sick.
The dragon comes closer, stopping when it sees Leon move away in return.
“There are blankets in the corner,” it says gruffly, indicating with a jerk of its head. “You should remove your wet clothes and try to warm up.”
Leon stares at the dragon, confused.
“Are you not going to eat me?” he asks after a minute.
“No,” the dragon snorts, baring its teeth in a vicious smile. “Sick meat always tastes worse than healthy meat.”
Leon shivers, though this time it wasn’t because of the cold.
“Sleep,” The dragon rumbles, curling up across the fire. “You will need your rest.”
Leon all but collapses into the pile of blankets he drags closer to the fire, more exhausted now than he’d ever felt in his life, and slips into unconsciousness.
He dreams of icy blue eyes and an all-encompassing warmth.
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He gets sick, because of course he does. He wakes up to a cool cloth on the upper half of his face, obscuring his eyes, and the sound of someone humming softly nearby. He’s delirious with fever, so it doesn’t occur to him how strange this is. Someone is sitting next to him, soft fingers brushing the hair out of his face, and Leon groans. The hands disappear quickly, the person pulling away in surprise. Leon groans again, attempting to sit up, but a strong hand on his chest pushes him back down.
“Don’t move yet,” a man’s voice speaks, low and rumbly. “You’re still sick.”
“‘M fine.” Leon’s words slur a little, giving away how not fine he actually was. “Who’re you?”
The man guides Leon back down into a lying position before answering.
“My name doesn’t matter.” He says, voice hard, hand still warm against Leon’s chest.
Leon frowns at the mysterious answer, something twinge-ing in his chest, but a thought occurs to him before he has time to press.
“Where is the dragon?” he asks, worry seeping into his tone.
The man stills slightly.
“He’s not here right now,” He answers after a bit, picking his words carefully. “Don’t worry.”
Leon relaxes for a second before tensing up again.
“You need to leave!” He cries out, grasping at the man’s hand tightly. “It could come back any second and you-”
“It’s okay,” The man soothes Leon in a soft voice, placing his hand on top of his gently. “He and I are….friends.”
Leon feels himself still in surprise, his grip loosening on the man’s wrist.
“Friends…?” He says slowly, brain taking way to long to catch up with him. Everything was hazy, hard to parse due to his fever, and the idea of being friends with a giant terrifying dragon wasn’t as strange as Leon might have thought it was before. The image of the dragon flashes in his head, beautiful and dangerous, and Leon shivers.
“Yeah,” The man confirms, pulling the blankets back up over Leon’s shoulders, mistaking his shivers as being from the cold. “We go back quite a bit.”
Leon lets out a shaky breath and feels the weight of exhaustion wash over him now that he’s horizontal again. He feels himself start to slip back into unconsciousness and mumbles out one last thing.
“I don’t want to be eaten,” he mumbles, curling into a ball. “Can you tell him that for me? I don’t want to die.”
If the man replies, Leon doesn’t hear it. He’s asleep before he finishes his sentence.
He dreams fitfully for Arceus knows how long, awakening a couple of times, sometimes alone, sometimes in the presence of the man from before. The man will press a cup to his lips, cool relief in the form of fresh water slipping down his throat. Leon’s near delirious each time, doesn’t remember much except for how warm the man is, how much Leon wants to ask him to come closer, to chase the cold away with his touch. He doesn’t, of course, but he gets the feeling the man already knows.
Each time he wakes, there’s a cloth covering his eyes, cool and damp. Leon tries to remove it, once, but the man grabs his wrist tightly and growls out a strained don’t touch .
Leon doesn’t try again.
His fever breaks, eventually. Leon is barely conscious when it does, but he feels warm fingers press against his forehead and a soft sigh of relief.
“Go to sleep, prince.” The man says, quiet and tired, and Leon does.