Chapter Text
Raihan's favorite thing about waking up early is seeing his treasure still asleep in his arms. The fact that the human feels safe enough in his embrace to get a good night's sleep never fails to put warmth in his chest.
He expresses himself with a content rumble. The man in his arms stirs inside his cocoon of blankets and nuzzles closer, seeking his heat. Raihan never sleeps with any covers, since they always snag on his tail and wings, and being covered by anything makes him agitated.
Humans, though, they need to be covered up while they sleep. Fragile things. Raihan's more than happy to let his treasure take all the blankets whenever they sleep together, which, for these past few weeks of spring, the entirety of winter, and the last few weeks of autumn, has been every single night, thank the gods.
It's a habit he hopes they don't break anytime soon. He loves this. He loves being able to hold his precious close and guard him through the night with his presence, even when there's nothing that can threaten them in the safety of his territory.
And if anything ever tries...
"Rai... yer squeezin' me..."
He loosens his arms immediately. "Sorry. Didn't mean to wake you."
Raihan leans back so he can see his treasure's face.
Piers' eyes are mostly lidded, peering blearily out from the blankets. His lashes flutter as he blinks himself awake, and Raihan catches himself already smiling by the time his partner looks up at him. Those eyes are prettier than any jewel he could add to his nonexistent hoard.
"...What're you smilin' for this early?"
"Am I not allowed to smile when I'm happy?" Raihan pulls the bundle of blankets closer, throwing a wing over them both to wrap them in an extra layer. "Another morning with you in my arms is enough to fill my heart with—"
"Okay, okay, I get it already..." Piers squirms inside his swaddle until he works an arm free. Raihan eagerly tracks the motion of the freed hand, and only pouts a little bit when it's used to rub the sleep from its owner's eyes. "Bit early for poetry," the smaller man yawns.
Raihan refrains from reminding Piers that staying up through the night writing songs until the sun rises counts as 'early poetry.'
"But not too early to tell you I love you," is what he counters with instead.
On a whim, Raihan leans down and nuzzles his lips against his treasure's forehead. The action earns him a hum, and he has to fight not to grin when Piers tilts his head up and gives him a small kiss on the chin.
"Back at you, big guy."
He would love nothing more than to go for a kiss on the lips, but Piers is fussy about not kissing until he's done getting ready for the day.
They haven't even been together for a full turn of the seasons, but they've settled into a routine so naturally it's like they've been together for years. It's so comfortable, so domestic and strange. It's not the typical dragon's life, but he likes it.
Raihan settles back down and curls around his lover, pressing his face into the thick hair on top of Piers' head and inhaling deeply.
Crazy how he found this by complete coincidence. Stealing the prince away from his homeland was too easy. Piers wanted to leave, wanted to escape and be free. All Raihan had to do was crack that tower open like an oyster to snatch the flawless pearl from within. Easy, so easy, and so worth it. Sure there were some rough patches at the start after the initial liberation. Piers didn't take kindly to the idea of moving from one captor to another, but it was nothing some communication and convenient sexual and romantic tension couldn't fix.
"I can tell you're thinkin' about stuff again," Piers' melodic voice pulls him back to the present. "You're always tellin' me to let go of the past, shouldn't you practice what you preach?"
Raihan lets the tension out of his arms. "Reminiscing on past victories is different and good for you," he smugly replies into his lover's hair. "You're a brooder and could stand to do less of it. Thoughts are the one thing I can't chase away from you."
Piers works his other arm free and hugs around his dragon's neck. Raihan's tail curls happily across the furs covering the bed, and he pulls back just enough to see Piers smirking up at him.
"So you think."
Oh...? Maybe Piers is in the mood to break routine a little bit. Raihan tightens his wing over them and leans in to test it. A morning kiss would start his day off right, not that anything's set to go wrong anytime soon.
Their lips are a hair's breadth apart when there's a sharp tug on Raihan's awareness. It rings a little alarm inside his head, and he bolts upright, wings tense and head turned in the direction the pull came from.
"Someone's intruding. Dammit, this is the second one since all the snow melted, why can't people just stay out of my territory?"
Piers scoffs and eases himself into the warm spot left vacant by his sitting up. "'My' territory?" he drawls.
Whoops. He did it again. Raihan relaxes slightly and smiles at the sight of his beloved curled up like a cat in its nest.
"Fine, our territory." Raihan twists and leans back down to nuzzle into the human's neck. "It'd be easier to say if you'd just let me..." His breath warms a particular spot on the pale neck beneath him, and he gives it a swipe with his forked tongue.
A thin hand smushes into his cheek. He sits up with a grin and laughs at the scowl gracing his would-be mate's face.
"I know, I know. Be right back, precious, I'll go chase this fool off our land." He climbs off the bed and stretches up towards the ceiling, wings spreading to their full length and scraping opposite sides of the tower's large, circular room.
A satisfied groan leaves him and he checks over his shoulder. His treasure is laying on his side now, head propped up on his hand, with the blankets slipping down his bare torso and his hair pooling over the pillows and furs. Stunning as always. Piers is also shamelessly staring, and Raihan's chest warms in self-pride.
"Enjoying the view?" He pulls his wings in and makes a show of another stretch, locking his arms over his head and leaning his torso to one side, then the other. Stretching before wrecking someone's shit is very important. Can't give anyone a proper ass-kicking without limbering up first.
"Can't enjoy the view when you're blockin' the window," Piers quips. "Get out of here already, ye big show-off. And don't come back bloody this time. Hate scrubbin' these walls."
"I'll do my best to keep it clean, babe."
His treasure rolls his eyes and flops onto his other side, dragging the blankets back up to cover him, no doubt planning on catching more sleep before getting ready for the day. And the only reason Piers can fall back asleep is because he has so much faith in Raihan to do his job.
It's enough to make any dragon's head big.
With that, Raihan chuckles and strolls to the room's sole window. It's big enough to easily accommodate his body, and has no sill or glass or any adornments. It would be a plain square hole in the thick stone wall if not for the thin web of magic preventing the elements from entering the room and disturbing his treasure's comfort.
Raihan crouches in the window, claws scraping stone. Now that his head is past the magic pane, he can smell everything. He breathes deep and closes his eyes. There it is, something foreign tainting the natural stream of scents on the breeze.
The intruder is human. Male. Not from a land anywhere near here. A tang of steel accents the scent, hinting at armor and weaponry.
A knight.
Raihan's lip curls into a joyless smile. Been a while.
That's the one downside to living in such a remote area. It's impossible to build up a scary reputation that deters any random wanderer from testing their foolish luck. The only people who know to warn strangers off is the village nearest his—and Piers'— territory. It's a modest little thing, but everyone there knows his name and knows not to fuck with him.
But every so often an idiot still tries.
Raihan may have promised to do his best to avoid a bloody fight, but if this latest dead man walking really is a knight, then blood may be inevitable. Annoying things are always so determined.
(It won't be his own blood that he comes home with, of course. Raihan's never let himself be physically wounded by a human before.)
Emotionally, though, it definitely would be possible coming from the right person...
"Come back soon," his love bids. "'M already cold."
That's all the encouragement Raihan needs to launch away from the window and set out towards the source of the offending scent. The morning sun is warm on his back, and will take several hours more to warm the stone of their home.
'Already cold.' Skinny thing loses heat so easily. No matter how well Raihan tries to feed him, the former prince never manages to build up to a healthier weight so he can retain heat better. He thought the poor guy was being starved while he was being kept and guarded by that pathetic excuse for a dragon, but no, apparently that's just how he is. It would be worrying if Piers' mind and tongue weren't so sharp. Indicators of sound health.
Still, the last thing Raihan wants is for his treasure to be cold, of all preventable things. He's still learning how to best keep his partner happy and cared for. Piers makes him happy without any effort at all (and when he does put effort in, Raihan is the happiest dragon alive), and he needs to return the favor! It's just difficult sometimes to know what to do.
Eventually he wants Piers to go from feeling cared for to feeling pampered, then full-on spoiled like he deserves. Only the best for his best friend and lover. Hopefully the warming weather will make things easier... Winter was harder than he'd like to admit.
On the bright side, some things stay easy no matter the season. Like defending the territory and the tower within from intruders looking to either kill him, or, if they happened to catch wind of Piers' existence, to 'rescue' the 'prisoner' from the 'evil dragon.'
Those sentiments are as hilarious as they are misguided. Not that he can really blame them, given the typical scary dragon narrative. Raihan doesn't mind. All that matters is that Piers chose him, loves him, and wants to stay with him. And Raihan will defend his mate and his right to freedom to his last breath.
A tang of sour metal on the wind brings him focus. Definitely a knight. So annoying to deal with. They never shut up, all self-righteous and annoyingly moralistic and yelling about the greater good and all that. He'd love to see a selfish knight for once.
The threads of magic lacing the perimeter tug harder at his consciousness as he flies closer. There's a disturbance where a man-sized entity walked right through the boundary. There are no traces of foreign magic around the tear, meaning that this isn't some holy knight or mage or something that would at least make this fun. It's just a regular, plain human knight. What a chore.
He tenses his left wing to start a slow banking turn. He'll skirt around towards the point of entry and see if he can't approach the knight from behind while he's no doubt still walking through the forested region. He hates flying where his challengers can see him coming, because they always stop walking and wait for him to approach, like Raihan's the one who scheduled an appointment and they're impatiently waiting on him to hurry up already. Dragons rush for no creature lower than themselves. Which is all of them. It's undignified.
...Unless it's Piers calling him for something. That's a special exception. He'd never make his treasure wait for anything.
A glimmer catches the dragon's eye. There, walking through the meadow, the intruder. Raihan smirks. They're not even bothering to look up, and with the sun in his face now, his approach will cast no shadow until it's too late. Means he can make a dramatic entrance, his favorite. Sometimes they scream, sometimes they turn tail and run, which is always entertaining.
Raihan smiles and pulls in his wings to start a descent.
This should be over with quickly.
Hours and hours after he set out in the direction the village pointed him to, Leon finally found the dragon's territory deep in the forest. He was told it's too large to miss, but he still managed to get turned around half a dozen times through the thick woods before he finally found it.
If the deep claw marks in the trees weren't enough to indicate the edge of the beast's land, the uncomfortable pressure of the magic linking each gouged mark makes the boundary unmistakeable. Every step closer raises the hairs on the back of his neck until his skin is prickling all over.
This is where he needs to be. As soon as he crosses the invisible threshold, the dragon should instantly know he's here. Then, there'll be no turning back.
Leon takes a moment to kneel on the forest floor, and tunes out as much as he can, from the breeze rustling the new leaves on the trees, to the chattering birdsong, to the rustling of tiny animals rummaging through the underbrush. He needs to clear his mind of his burdens before going into this battle, as it'll likely be the most challenging one he'll have in his life, for dragons are the deadliest of all the sentient beasts—strong, intelligent, and with massive stores of magical power that they call upon to bend the elements to their will. Engaging with one without taking the proper preparations is an instant death sentence.
Part of those preparations is being mentally ready for a fight to the death. And he is. Has been for years. He's been trained to put everything on the line for victory.
He slows his breathing, and sits up straighter, and sets one hand on the hilt of the sword at his side. The weapon of a weapon. A fine piece of work, both of them.
He's thought about running away before. Being this far away from Rhondeland should be the perfect opportunity. But knowing his king, trying to use this quest as a chance to leave isn't an option. If he fails to make it back in time, if Rose realizes he's gone, his 'father' would stop at nothing to get him back, using his truancy as a reason to pry into every kingdom and state Leon's passed through to get here. Not to mention that the consequences of his disobedience would likely last him the rest of his suffocating life. The prince of Rhondeland must return, and in order to bring change to his life back home, he must return victorious, just like he always has.
The irony isn't lost on him, that in order to gain some freedom from being Rose's personal sword, he needs to embody it now more than ever.
Leon reaches into himself to find the cold-hearted warrior Rhondeland spent years honing him into. He doesn't have to go that deep. Getting into the right state of mind is necessary to help him forget that he's about to take another life.
You are a prince of Rhondeland, and you are here to win. Victory is your purpose.
That mantra is all he needs to still his thoughts. His heartbeat is steady, his breathing is even, and his body has long since been forged into a weapon as sharp as a human's can possibly be. Whether it's enough to slay a dragon remains to be seen.
The prince rises.
He must move forward.
The underbrush crunches under his boots as he approaches the space between two claw-marked trees. Every step he takes is harder than the last. The dragon's territory is magically-enforced, and repels the deepest part of his hindbrain, the part that no amount of training or meditation can suppress for long. Whoever this beast is, he's powerful if he can maintain a border like this...
"Here goes..." he murmurs.
The invisible threads of magic stretch like cobwebs over his outstretched hand. There's no physical resistance, but it's difficult to move forward. Every instinct the prince has is telling him to draw back and run while he still can.
He closes his eyes and forces his body to take the step. Crossing the boundary of the dragon's territory feels like swimming to the bottom of a lake while already suffocating—it goes against every survival mechanism his body has, and when his face passes the border he has to screw his eyes shut and hold his breath to maintain control over his body and keep it moving forward.
And then, in an instant, he can breathe again.
All he took was a single step forward, but it was the hardest part of his trek so far.
There's no way his entry went unnoticed by the territory's owner. The only way the prince could have snuck in unnoticed is if he took a mage with him skilled enough to pick through the magic and make a hole in it large enough for him to sneak through. Good thing he wants the dragon to notice him, because he's here for a fight.
The Rhondeland prince squares his shoulders and makes his way deeper into the dragon's territory, every sense sharp and every movement measured.
The grass and trees of the forest seem more lush, now. Like spring has accelerated a few weeks just by crossing the magical threshold. Enough leaves have sprouted on the trees that the sky is almost completely obstructed. No way to see the dragon from above, then. He sighs and presses on, not bothering much with stealth.
The only question is when the dragon will choose to confront him. He may already be under watch.
The forest suddenly opens into a meadow. The knee-high grass is so verdant in the sun that he's forced to squint until his eyes adjust. Wildflowers add texture to the sea of green, poking up like guard towers and swaying in the breeze.
It's almost scenic enough to let one's guard down. The prince stands taller and wades through the grass. It's a hindrance to his legs, but he at least has the space to freely swing his sword when the time comes. He lifts his head to scan the sky as he walks.
No sign of any dragon yet. It's too peaceful, with every sound of nature still active. It's almost worrying that the owner of this land is taking this long to arrive... All the rumors the village had for him spoke of a relentless, territorial, bloodthirsty beast. One who's a gleeful killer, who drops corpses in their square that splatter into pieces the instant they hit the—
Crunch.
Leon tears his eyes away from the sky and looks down, shifting his foot away to reveal whatever it is he stepped on.
Bones over burnt grass. It used to be a hand.
He halts where he is and takes in the rest of the immediate area. A wide, but constrained, sprawl of scorched grass, mostly black and brown and freckled with the green of new sprouts, and scattered with the bleached bones of a single human. A star-shaped mark is burned into the center of the area roughly where the body's feet would have been.
He can picture it. A man standing right here in the pristine meadow, perhaps with wind and rain lashing about. A flash, and a boom. An instant death. And the fire that spread from the lightning strike until the rain subdued it.
He'd bet his crown that it was no coincidence.
After another few tense minutes of marching and scanning and still no dragon, something peeks around the edge of the hill he's rounding.
It's a roof, which gives him pause. The angle of it is sharp enough to be the top of a tower or spire. It has to be abandoned; it looks too small for any dragon to fit inside of. It must have been here since before the beast laid claim to this land. Strangely enough, it looks so well-kept...
The whisper-scream of air ripped apart by sharp edges is the only warning before the ground shakes. Leon stumbles and whips around into a battle stance, hand on his sword hilt, eyes squinting into the sudden blast of wind threatening to knock him over.
"Well now..." A rich voice says, rough with amusement. "You look a little young to be a knight. Did somebody lose their way?"
The wind settles and he blinks, now able to see the creature before him.
It's shockingly humanoid. Leon was prepared to face off against a beast five times his size. He's heard that dragons can change their forms to a certain degree—adding wings or extending body length or even taking their own legs away in order to best fit their environment—but to make themselves look human? He's never heard of such a thing.
The creature certainly has all the trappings of a dragon. Gigantic leathery wings, a whiplike tail ridged with razors, and scales, orange and gold and indigo, crawling up its arms and legs and partially armoring its chest. Its throat is completely protected. Sharp horns angle back from its head, and the eyes are an unnaturally bright blue.
Everything else looks... human. Dark skin. Two legs, two arms, a handsome face with normal parts...
The dragon's lips curl back and reveal a mouth full of pearly daggers.
...Make that a face with mostly normal parts.
This is a monster, he reminds himself. You've killed monsters that look human before.
"Are you the dragon of this land?" He asks, just in case.
"Mmhm. The one and only Raihan." The dragon's wings relax from their open position as their owner straightens up. It—he?—might not be in his true form, but he's still massive, towering over him even from the not-meager distance away. "And what business might you have with the great Raihan?"
The prince steels himself and straightens up in turn. "I'm here to—"
"Just kidding, I know why you're here." The dragon, Raihan, lifts a scaled hand and inspects his claws. "Evil monster must die and all that. You're not the first to come here wanting to challenge me, and it's never gone well for anyone else seeing as how I'm still here, so how about this? I'll give you the chance to run since I'm in a good mood. You look like you've got a promising life ahead of you."
The words sting. There'll be no life he can be proud to live if he doesn't fulfill his mission.
"I'm not running." He unsheathes his sword, points it straight at the dragon's scaled throat. "I'm here to put you out of your misery."
"Tsk. Boring." He's waved off like a fly. "You knights are all the same. Couldn't you have given me something more original at least?"
Now the dragon is treating this like a game? Leon grits his teeth and tries again, squaring his shoulders and staring the monster in the eye. "Is my trespassing not enough for you?"
The dragon's lip twitches in amusement. "If it were, you wouldn't be standing here. I just don't feel like getting bloody today." He shrugs with both shoulders and wings. "So you can put that thing down now."
Leon blinks and lowers his sword. This is ridiculous. Is this really a dragon? They're supposed to be bloodthirsty beasts, top of the food chain for a reason. Worshipped in some cultures for a reason. Emblazoned on the heraldry of the most war-frenzied nations for a reason.
And this one is shrugging and saying he doesn't feel like fighting the intruder pointing a sword at him him.
You are a prince of Rhondeland.
"Well?" The 'great' Raihan yawns.
You are here to win. Victory is your purpose.
"I thought you were a dragon," he taunts. The words are bitter and dishonest on his tongue, but he delivers them with the same sincerity he's been trained to give his canned speeches to the public. "I was expecting some great powerful beast, but all I see is a cowardly snake trying to pass as one and doing a terrible job at it."
The dragon's face splits into a razor-sharp smile. "There's some bite... Look, knight, I may not be in my normal body, but you can't tell me you look at me and see anything other than what I really am."
The beast stretches his wings out, hunching his shoulders and raising his arms with hands clawing the air. Bared teeth perfect the image of a monster mid-pounce, and the hair on the back of Leon's neck prickles instinctively. Raihan relaxes out of the pose and smirks, and Leon curses himself for visibly relaxing as well.
"All dragon here. So do the smart thing, and shoo already. I have better things to do than kill a pretty face."
...Perhaps Rhondeland's research about these creatures isn't as complete as its scholars have sworn.
Leon wracks his brain for something to rile the monster up, and a memory hits him. One of the people he talked to at the nearest village to track this place down. They shook their heads at him, pointed in a vague direction into the forest, and sent him off with pity. But he remembers, a mumble, a whispered prayer as he set out...
"Dear me, I hope this one's able to save that poor..."
Save... as in, save a person?
He's heard about this before. Dragons adding living things to their hoards, hoards that they're incredibly possessive and protective over. Rare animals or plants, or even...
"A human," he whispers in realization. "You're keeping a human."
Raihan's eyes narrow and his smile diminishes. "What business is it of yours?"
So he really does have someone hidden away. They must be in that tower, and it changes everything.
Leon swallows and raises his sword again, readying it for a strike. The stakes just changed. Not only will the prince of Rhondeland come home a hero just for slaying a dragon, he'll have saved someone, too. Not that Rose will care about that personally, but he will care about it for the sake of public relations. And anything the public loves gives Leon leverage to use against him.
"It's absolutely my business. I'll free them from you. If you want to stop me, then fight me."
"Hah! What makes you think I'll engage over your silly little challenge?" The dragon's long tail sweeps across the grass, hands flexing at his side and contradicting his tone. He's already getting ready to fight. "My treasure is mine. Nothing you do can take him away from me."
Leon takes this chance and runs with it. To clinch his chances, he switches to very deliberate, possessive language to goad the dragon even more.
"Are you sure about that? If I win them from you, they'll be mine instead."
The challenge puts a serious set to Raihan's face. He isn't smiling anymore, and somehow the disappearance of all those teeth is more intimidating than when they were out. A low growl rumbles like thunder in the distance, humming in his bones and making every hair stand on end. He sharpens his focus and adjusts his grip on his blade.
The dragon steps left. Leon steps right to match, and the two start a slow circling. Leon doesn't want to lose the advantageous position of having the sun at his back—and therefore in the dragon's eyes—but he also wants to maintain their current distance and not let the dragon flank him. Both their steps are light and even; the rustling of parting grass is the loudest thing between them until the dragon speaks in a rage-simmered growl.
"What makes you think you can win my Piers in a one-on-one fight? If you really wanted him out, you wouldn't have come alone... not that it'd make much difference in the end."
So his name is Piers...
Another step, closer this time, tightening the circle. Leon lowers his stance. "I've never lost a battle in my life." He scans the dragon's form for any potential vulnerabilities, and knows he's being inspected right back. "I am my kingdom's champion, and you're about to become my greatest victory yet."
Something in the air changes. There's an energy, a charge, an inaudible hum in the back of Leon's mind that sends his blood racing for battle as his instincts heed the warning.
"Today's your lucky day then, champion, because I'm about to teach you what it's like to lose."
They stop circling. The dragon's wings draw in close to his back and he lowers into a half-squat, claws flexing and eyes—eyes that are a sharp, clear blue, split by a vertical pupil—sharpening with bloodlust. His expression is confident, fearless, but his razored tail betrays tension as it lashes. Human-shaped or not, the dragon looks more like the monster it truly is, now.
Leon readies his sword and sets one foot back to brace himself.
"Try and show me, then."
A crazed glint shines in the dragon's eyes. Raihan hunches deeper, fingers curling to ready his claws, wings tightening closer to his body.
Since only one of them will come out the fight alive, Leon frees himself of the burden of his true motivation to clear it from his mind, speaking softly, mostly to himself, and bracing his feet into the earth.
"You're about to become my freedom."
Shock slackens the dragon's stance. Leon lunges.
Before he can stab his sword into the monster's breast, a sharp wind blinds him and the space in front of him is suddenly empty. Leon's boots skid along the pristine grass. His opponent, unscathed and snarling, lands a dozen feet away in a low crouch, so quietly that if he weren't in Leon's line of sight he'd think the dragon vanished.
The breeze settles as the dragon's wings flex and fold themselves down. Leon stays tense, focus so strong that time slows down as he awaits a counterattack... that never comes.
The dragon is just crouching there.
After a solid ten seconds pass with both of them still as statues, Leon dares to lower his blade just enough for the motion to be visible.
"...I thought you were going to teach me a lesson. I'm ready for you, dragon. Your move!"
Even from a distance, Raihan's eyes are piercing. They're narrowed into slits, flickering over him, analyzing weak spots in his stance? Leon firms up his posture and adjusts his grip on his weapon, waiting, watching, barely breathing.
The dragon looks slightly upward and past him. Leon knows better than to follow his line of sight and provide an opening for attack. The sky blue eyes drop back down. Then flick back up again. Then the beast... closes his eyes. Grimaces like he has a headache, presses the heel of his hand to his forehead, claws scraping a horn, and violently shakes his head with a snarl.
Leon readies himself for some sort of frenzied attack in the moments that follow, but to his surprise, Raihan straightens up, sluggishly as if burdened, and hisses out a raspy sigh.
"Nah... Changed my mind."
The charge in the air dissipates along with the mental white noise.
Leon nearly drops his sword. "What? But—"
"You totally ruined it. I thought you were just another idiotic knight coming here with a death wish," Raihan vehemently rumbles, tail lashing around his legs. "Would've been easy to kill you if you were just another idiot. But I guess I should thank you for snapping me out of it. I promised to keep it clean."
"What are you talking about?" Leon blurts out. Promised to who? None of this makes sense!
Raihan smoothly folds his arms behind his head, eyes still shut, and... is that a pout? "Listen. I'm not going to be responsible for your freedom or whatever it is you're really trying to achieve here." He shrugs and drops his arms. "Go find it somewhere else, because you're not going to find it here."
The dragon turns his back in a true sign of disrespect to his opponent (are they still opponents?) and flares his wings, crouching for a takeoff.
This isn't right. They already started their duel, it can't just end like this, it's not right!
Before Leon can formulate a response, the dragon takes off in a whirlwind, twisting in mid-air and diving to blaze narrowly overhead, flying in the direction of the tower.
"W-Wait!" The prince turns and dashes forth to give chase, arm outstretched to grab—he doesn't even know what. Nothing's in reach, the beast is too fast.
The tall grass slows him down as he sprints, as does his sword, but he can't bring himself to drop it just in case, in the slightest chance that he can get the dragon to duel him again, so he can fight and win and return home with the proof and maybe, just maybe, Rose will—
"Dra—Raihan, wait! Please!" He breaks out of the tall grass and sprints up the hill, catching a glimpse of eye contact as the dragon glares under his shoulder. "Please, let me explain! Just listen! PLEASE!"
He has to stagger back a step and nearly tumbles backwards down the hill when Raihan lands in a ground-shaking crouch, back to Leon, whiplike tail lashing dangerously and keeping him from coming any closer.
"Nothing you say will change my mind. Leave my..." The dragon pauses and shakes his head. "Leave my territory before I incinerate you where you stand."
Desperation has the prince taking a step closer, dangerously within range of that sharp, twisting tail.
"Please hear me out. Great Raihan. I need this battle. I can't just turn around and leave, I have to fight. Or else—"
"Or else what?" The dragon turns around with his wings still spread, nearly grazing Leon with the tips, and draws himself to his full height, striking an intimidating silhouette that eclipses Leon in its shadow. His body chills in the sudden lack of sun.
"You knights are all the same. Tell me why I should care about whatever little scenario you have. Why should I accept your challenge and put my life on the line for what you want?"
Under the weight of that gaze, Leon falters. "Because I..." He swallows, and pathetically tries the same angle that worked to set the beast off the first time. "Don't you care that I want to take your person? Isn't that enough reason to fight me?"
"Little human," Raihan purrs with a deadly edge. "My Piers is not some prize for you to make a stake of. He's far more precious than that. And I am more than the shallow monster you seem to take me for. If you intend on using either of us as a tool for your personal goals..." A storm darkens those sky-blue eyes and the wind picks up around them. "Then you'd best walk away. I'm not playing your game."
Leon's hand slackens, and his sword pierces the grass for a moment until it tips under its own weight. A flicker of a grimace crosses the dragon's face at the small bit of shredded turf made by the sword's tip.
He really did have his head up his own ass this entire time.
What was he thinking? He wanted to slay a dragon, yes, but how could he forget that dragons are... are... they're basically people with how intelligent they are. He knew they were smart and cunning, yes, but it never occurred to him that they might have honor, or morals, or even something as basic as the restraint to not fight when it's not necessary.
He didn't allow his opponent any dignity.
Shame burns deep in the prince's heart. He easily swallows what's left of his pride and lowers his head, fully aware of the dangers of exposing the back of his neck to such a dangerous creature, and bows.
"I'm sorry. You're right. I should have respected your desire for peace. I was naive, it was never my intention to push for a dishonorable battle. You deserve more than that. Even if you are keeping a human," he finishes shamefully.
The dragon hums. "An apology? Unexpected... Alright. I accept. Pick your head up, knight."
Leon straightens up and meets the beast's eyes. His hand presses against the sun-heated metal protecting his chest. "Please, great Raihan. Allow me to explain myself."
"What, you think it'll change my mind at this point?" Amusement lightens the dragon's expression. "I don't know if you're stubborn or stupid."
"That's not what I—"
"But you know what, you're cute, so why not." Bright eyes look him up and down. "No harm in being able to look at you a little longer."
That's... flattering? To be complimented by a dragon has to be some sort of honor, right?
"Uh... Thank you." The dragon smirks. "For hearing me out," Leon hurriedly clarifies.
The longer he's stared at, the more the prince feels his face heat from something other than stress or exertion. He's about to ask if he's allowed to start when the dragon chuckles to himself and gestures with a lazy hand.
"Go on. I don't have all day."
The confirmation of the dragon's attention helps Leon focus. As an extra show of peace, the prince steps back from his fallen sword, leaving it closer to the dragon than to himself, and kneels in the grass so he can sit on his heels. A bit awkward given the slope of the hill—he's forced to lean forward a bit—but necessary, to show a completely non-aggressive posture.
"I am Prince Leon of the kingdom of Rhondeland." He introduces himself with a formal touch to his shoulder. "I've traveled for many weeks to reach this place."
"So you're not just a regular knight." The dragon sinks into a casual seated position on the hill higher up the slope, tail curling around his ankles. "Rhondeland, huh... Think I've heard a few things about them. Didn't know they had a prince."
Leon lowers his gaze to the short grass in front of him. There's a little patch of weeds there. Dandelions.
"They didn't always. I'm not of royal blood." He reaches out and gently taps the fluffy head of a flower. "I was... 'adopted' into the royal family when I was a child."
His fingers twitch around the stem of a different dandelion, one rounded and feathered with seeds, but he draws his hand back instead of plucking it. He may not be in Rhondeland, where the plant is considered a weed, but he's not going to take chances here. The dragon might take offense to him spreading the weed around his territory.
"Lucky you," the dragon says, and Leon accidentally plucks the thing anyways.
Lucky. Everyone always says that he's lucky.
"Then again, I've heard that being a prince isn't all sunshine and roses."
Leon's head jerks up. The dragon is leaning back on his arms, eyes closed to the sky. Armored throat exposed, but Leon pushes that information aside in favor of absorbing the unexpected empathy.
He doesn't care if it's pathetic to open up to a monster like this; the words come rushing out on their own.
"It's not. It's really not. I'm only at my king's side because he needed an heir he could control, and I was the only one to pass the tests."
Leon barely remembers any of his brief childhood before he was taken off the streets and forced onto a life path without any branches. He's a champion of a sheltered life, raised and fed and trained and disciplined by exacting, specific hands until he was fit for Rose. Wonderful dear son, the future King of Rhondeland, its noble protector. Its champion. Beloved, precious, useful son.
"I don't have any political power, since I'm only adopted. Nobody listens to me. I'm just an accessory to my king, at most. My only real use is to fight whenever he snaps his fingers, and never lose." His hand tightens around the stem of the weed. "Nothing I do is without his permission. I'm always watched whenever I'm not at his side. The journey I'm on right now is the first time I've been out of my kingdom unescorted."
The dragon hums and hooks the sharp spade of his tail-tip around the hilt of Leon's sword, dragging it into arm's reach. He takes it up and inspects it, turning it this way and that in his clawed hands, paying zero visible attention to Leon.
"Why'd your king let his precious champion out all alone? A lot of resources were sunk into you." Raihan lines up the sword with his line of sight, staring straight down the flat of the blade at Leon. "You're a precious commodity, I can tell."
Leon lowers his gaze to the dandelion puff.
"I told my king that I wanted more accomplishments than what Rhondeland could offer. If I could do some large, fame-worthy deed out in other lands, it would improve his reputation as well as raise the public's pride in the royal family. He agreed to let me go, on the condition that I achieve something and return before three month's time has passed. He looked... proud that I was being so ambitious."
He gives the stem a slow twirl between his fingers. He's running out of time to complete his quest. He's avoided thinking about the potential of failure, but it's becoming a greater reality.
A sharp, sleek noise draws a shiver up his spine. It's Raihan, running the tip of a claw up the flat of his blade. He hums in pleasure at the sound and turns the sword to look at the guard up close, eyes narrowed in interest at the craftsmanship. Great, the dragon's taken by his sword... Not only will Leon be leaving without a fight, he might be leaving without protection as well.
"There's more you're not telling me." Another long scrape of talon on steel. "I'm getting the sense that you couldn't care less about the reputation of your family. Why did you really want to slay me? Would the prince earn a hug from daddy for killing a big bad dragon? A shiny medal? A meaningless title maybe? Leon the Mighty, Leon the Brave?"
The condescension does little to ruffle him at this point. He's upfront with what his true prize is.
"A looser leash."
Raihan pauses his inspection, and looks up. His pupils are no longer slits, Leon notes, but the blue still stands out just as brightly despite being pushed aside by black.
(Nonhuman features aside, Raihan's not bad to look at. Which is a very muted way of saying 'incredibly handsome.')
"...Oh?" The beast lowers the sword to his lap. "Now you have to tell me more."
The casual invitation sends Leon's heart racing.
"Rose only thinks I'm being ambitious for glory. That's why he approved my quest. But if I return a true hero, then he might grant me some of my..." He struggles to choose the best word. Desires? Needs? Wishes?
The dragon fills in a word for him. "Some freedoms? That's what you called me earlier."
He nods minutely and continues. "Just... little things. Like the chance to wander the kingdom unescorted. Less mandatory tournaments and meaningless fights meant to make me a spectacle." His brow furrows and he gives the stem a harder twirl. A few of the seeds break off and float away. He doesn't watch where they go. "I want to be able to talk to people who see me as a person and not some... untouchable figure. It's kind of ironic, really, you're the first one to really listen to me like this and you're not even—"
"A person?"
"A human," Leon corrects. "Sorry, I... don't have much experience speaking with..."
"Monsters. You can say it. I know how humans view us, and I can't say I blame them. What with how we burn your shit down all the time and squish you like bugs if we ever feel like it."
Leon reluctantly nods, uncomfortable with the topic but not so much that he can't participate in it. "Any time I'm face to face with a beast, it's to kill it. Kill them," he revises.
He looks down at the poor dandelion puff to distract himself from the topic of destruction. A flower's only job is to grow, which he envies them for.
He's always liked these plants in particular... The flowering heads are a bright cheery yellow, visible in grass from a long ways away, and are fluffy and soft to the touch—the seed-bearing heads even more so. And the way that only a breath is needed to send the seeds careening into the breeze... Watching them float away can always put his mind at ease.
Rhondeland's royal gardeners do their best to keep them out of the grass and gardens, but they always come back. Leon's guilty of helping them spread, unable to resist the tiny indulgence of plucking one up and giving it a blow, seeing how far the seeds can make it.
A thoughtful hum breaks the brief silence. "There's one more thing I want to know about. I know for a fact that there's other dragons between here and Rhondeland for you to make quest fodder of. So why me?"
Heat rises to Leon's face. How is he supposed to explain that he spent the last week lost in the woods, stumbled upon a village by complete accident, and happened to overhear some locals talking about a dragon and nearly tripped over his own feet in his rush to ask them for information?
"By the way, blow that thing already. It's annoying watching you hold it like that."
"Huh?" The dragon nods down at his hand. Oh. The puff.
He self-consciously raises it to his lips and gives it a practiced blow. The seeds explode away and the breeze catches and carries them up the hill, past the dragon, in the direction of the tower. A few of the seeds try to stick to Raihan's face, but the dragon blows them upward to help them along.
It's a strangely gentle sight.
"It was coincidence," Leon finds himself saying, "that you were the first one I came across."
Just coincidence. Chance.
(Fate?)
"Coincidence, huh... Well, coincidence sure led you to a bad opponent." The dragon cracks a smile and Leon suddenly notices that one of his fangs sticks out more than the others. Raihan sets the sword aside and folds his arms over his knees, giving Leon an analytical look from his elevated spot, still smiling.
"So let me get this straight, prince. You needed a bargaining chip to use against your king, and my decapitated head would have been perfect. You don't really care about taking my treasure from me or raiding my territory, and only said all that stupid shit about stealing him just to bait me into a fight."
When it's put like that, Leon feels kind of like an asshole. Like he really didn't care about the other living person involved in this. He wishes he knew about the captive beforehand, so he could have actually organized a covert rescue attempt, or a surprise attack. He's lost his chance now.
"Well, yes, but... I really do want to save them. They're trapped someplace they don't want to be, just like me. I'd love nothing more than to rescue—"
The dragon busts out laughing. It's so loud and wild Leon flinches back. He recovers before the dragon notices a thing and sits through the deep cackling, shoulders hunched and mouth thinned in embarrassment. He's confused about what's so funny, but as bad as being laughed at is, he can't help but drink in the sound.
Rhondeland's palace never hears laughter like this. Everything is quiet and refined. The most a member of the court does is a practiced chuckle or giggle. But this dragon is unapologetically loud and animated, every fang exposed behind an open grin, broad shoulders shaking, wings twitching, clawed hand tearing up a fistful of grass without its owner even noticing.
"Ahhhh, oh, man, you're cute!" Raihan's laughter fades into airy chuckles and he wipes a tear from his eye with a claw. "Yes, sure, fight for my treasure's 'freedom,'" he mocks, lapsing into another fit of laughter.
"What...?" Leon weakly asks, face flushing. "Yes, I... What's so funny about that?"
"We have different definitions of freedom, knight. Prince. Whatever you are."
"My name is Leon. What do you mean different—" The dragon waves him down with a scaled hand.
"Knight Leon. I've decided to help you after all. Your plight reminds me of someone I care about. You say you can get a shot at a little bit of freedom if you slay a dragon, yeah?"
Leon shifts, uncomfortable because he can't predict where this is going. "Uh... that was the original plan, but it doesn't matter anym—"
"Well I can do you one better. I have no intention of dying, knight Leon, but I've chosen to take pity on you." The dragon slowly gets to his feet, taking his time stretching. "You remind me of my treasure quite a bit."
Wait. Time out.
So... Raihan will help him because his situation is similar to the one his prisoner is in? That's the most sadistic thing Leon's ever heard! To grant freedom to one while openly denying it to another... He can't let this dragon be so cruel to his 'treasure.' Leon needs to be a hero for real, no more wasting time by chatting with a monster!
"This is gonna be great, I can't wait to see his reaction when I..."
Leon lunges for his sword while the beast's guard is down. Or so he thought.
A heavy weight slams into his side and the world goes sideways. He's shoved onto his back, sliding down the hill under the weight and shadow of a giant creature. His hair whips around his face as massive wings beat the air to slow them down. They finally skid to a stop on the slope.
Leon throws a punch straight up. The claws leave his shoulders and catch his fist, both fists, and slam them into the grass over his head.
"Not so fast there, Leon," the dragon growls through his smile, flexing his scaled hands around Leon's. "I might like you, but you should know that making sudden moves like that is a bad idea around us monsters."
The Rhondeland prince thrashes under the steely grip. "Let me go, beast! I need my sword!"
The grass sways and lashes as large wings flare out to help the beast keep its balance. "Whoa, what's with the change in tune? I'm offering you a way out of this without anyone dying!"
"Not if it comes at the cost of your captive staying locked up!" He snarls and tries to kick, which only earns him the unyielding weight of a dragon sitting on his legs.
"For the love of..." The monster curses a name Leon's never heard before in his life. "Look. What do you really want, my head, or my treasure?"
"Are you saying I can have one without the other?" He fires back, craning his neck to look around for his sword. It's too far away to reach even if he did free his arms.
"I'm saying," growls the beast, "that you know nothing. Let me ask you this, then..." Raihan leans down. Hot breath, unnaturally sweet, coasts over Leon's forehead. "Just a simple little question. If you could only pick one thing from, say... my death, my treasure, or your permanent freedom, which would you choose?"
"What?" Leon lets his back go flat on the ground as he stares up at the beast pinning him, completely perplexed.
The blue of the dragon's eyes match the exact shade of the sky above him.
"You heard me. Choose one. Just a simple question, no pressure." The glint in the dragon's slit pupils tells Leon that this is some kind of test. Okay, well... he has no choice other than to participate.
Leon's throat bobs, and he shuts his eyes to think without the distraction of all those sharp teeth right over him. Sadly, that means he only grows more conscious of the weight and heat of the creature pinning him down. The scaly hands wrapped around his are warm. He thought the scales would be cold, but they're anything but.
"Tick, tock, prince... I said no pressure, but don't take forever." His hands are lightly squeezed. "Not that I can complain about the view."
Death, treasure, freedom... Killing the dragon, freeing the captive, or getting what he wants out of Rose? What's most valuable to him right now might not be the correct answer the dragon is looking for. Does the beast want him to be selfish? Or selfless? Which would be better received?
Sometimes the best thing to do is be up-front with one's desires.
Leon screws his eyes shut and throws his dice. "Your treasure. His freedom, I mean. That's what I really want."
A deep hum resonates above him. The dragon shifts his weight and pins Leon's wrists with a single hand, and draws the other one down to hold the prince's chin. The claw of Raihan's thumb pricks Leon's lower lip, and he opens his eyes again.
Raihan looks amused as he turns his focus to Leon's hair, spread around the grass.
"So you don't wish to kill me after all? Or does my death just happen to rank below the other things?" Raihan lets go of his chin and extends a claw. He lightly draws the tip of it down Leon's forehead, sorting out his bangs.
He wishes he could turn his head to hide the flush rising to his face, but, one, there's no way he can hide anything this close, and two, he'd rather not move when something so sharp is so near his eyes.
"I don't wish to kill you," he says, and it's the honest truth. "I only came to fight because I had no other choice. If I could get what I want without any bloodshed, I'd gladly do whatever it takes."
"Whatever it takes? Bold words." The dragon chuckles and Leon swears he can physically feel it. "So you'd sacrifice your chances for a stranger you've never met?"
Leon doesn't hesitate, doing his best to meet the dragon's eyes around the giant hand still toying at his bangs.
"Absolutely."
"Why?"
"Because it's the right thing to do."
The weight and shadow over him vanishes with a gust, and the sun beats upon him once more. Leon blinks up at the sky and pushes himself upright.
"Raihan...?"
Something golden flashes and halts inches from his nose. The hilt of his sword... He follows the blade up into a scaled grasp.
"Take up your sword, knight."
Unable to comprehend where this is going, Leon grasps the hilt hovering near his head and gets to his feet. The dragon is beaming like someone who just won a prize, which boggles his mind even more than being given back his sword.
"Sheathe it, and follow me. I think you'll like what I have to offer you, but whether or not this goes anywhere isn't up to either of us. Come!"
Raihan beckons with a claw, and sets off on foot towards the tower.
Confused, a little dazed, and extremely apprehensive (but somehow not nervous), what else can he do but follow?
Along the way, the dragon gives him a brief list of action items. Instructions, a plan. And warnings. Leon absorbs it all, nodding along as each sentence confuses him more than the last.
Don't be surprised by how beautiful he is, was the first warning, stated with pride. His treasure doesn't like to be reminded of home. He's there of his own free will (what?), but he still belongs to—chooses to be with, Raihan, and don't forget that, knight.
When the dragon suddenly stops and whirls around, eyes sparking and teeth bared in an open grin with a "great idea, this'll be hilarious," Leon's long given up on questioning anything, so he agrees to that too.
He's thrust towards a large wooden door. The tower is only part of a building, the tallest and most visible part of it. There's a whole house tucked among the hills. It's old, if the wind-weathered stones are anything to go by, but... very well-maintained. There's even a tiny garden nearby.
"Remember everything I told you," whispers the beast, dragging his focus back. "Now go."