A runaway slave finds roadside inns and taverns perfect places to hide from his old master. That is, until the next stop has already heard of him.
Hoarding Behavior Masterpost
Ongoing
A village in the mountains risks angering its neighbor, a dragon. Unfortunately for a certain human, he's been chosen to be the peace offering. Hopefully the beast isn't hungry.
Juno Collection Masterpost
Ongoing
An ongoing collection of one shots featuring Juno, a shameless self insert (because cringe is dead and I have killed it).
Note: These one shots are not connected unless stated otherwise
Moonflower Masterpost
Ongoing
A stolen fae is forced into slavery. Tortured into giving up his true name, he doesn't feel much of anything anymore. Until he's given to Queen Iris, who wants to make a deal.
Old Friends Masterpost
Finished, five parts
While captured by a notorious supervillain, Theo meets an old friend; one he thought was in prison.
Note: This was supposed to be a oneshot, but has expanded.
Second-Hand Goods Masterpost
Finished, seven parts
Emmett is the newest victim of a local serial killer. Or at least, he would be if the murderer hadn't gotten bored halfway through. But apparently someone is still interested in him.
Silas and Wren Masterpost
First version discontinued, Rewrite Ongoing
A lonely vampire decides to venture into the mortal markets to purchase a slave. He's sick of having no one to talk to, and maybe some company will make him feel better. It's just a bonus if they taste good, too.
Noct sat behind him, brushing his hair and purring. It was nice. He liked the gentle attention, and his hands were warm and careful.
“Pretty thing,” he murmured, “I should let your hair grow. I could braid it into patterns and weave gold into it.”
River wasn’t sure if he was actually speaking to him, but the compliment made his chest flutter. No one had ever talked about him like that before.
A claw-tipped finger traced over the skin of his shoulder. Master had dressed him in a silken off-the-shoulder shirt, in a beautiful ruby color.
“Your freckles are like bronze,” he sighed. He tilted River’s head with a gentle hand. He studied River, staring into his eyes. A pleased smile graced Master’s face.
“Precious emeralds set in bronze,” he said, “my little gem. So perfect.”
“Thank you, Master.” Noct’s tail swished with happiness. He hummed as he finished brushing his hair.
River knew he was just another object to Noct. And he was okay with it. After all, outside he was just another slave. There wasn’t much of a difference.
After, he watched Master polish the various silver items he had hoarded. Finally, a task he could do.
“Can I help?” Noct looked up from the vase.
“You might get polish on your hands.”
“I can clean them later. Please, Master?” he pleaded. He was just so bored.
“I suppose you may.”
River grabbed a silver cup and began to work it over. They sat together for a while, and River eyed how thorough and careful Master was. He was completely focused on the piece in his hands, almost lovingly polishing the vase.
“Why are you so intrigued by polishing?” asked Master after a few minutes of silence.
“I-” would Noct punish him for complaining? “I need something to do. It’s hard to pass the time.”
“I see.”
“I used to cook and clean the whole day away for my other masters,” explained River, “and here, you don’t need me to.”
Master hummed in acknowledgement. “I have many books you may enjoy. I will allow that.”
“I can’t read.”
“A pity.”
Master sighed. “I clean my own things. I cannot allow you to handle them without me.” Noct finished the vase, standing to put it in its proper place.
“I’m really sorry about the statue,” said River, “I won’t break anything again. I’m more used to the chain, now.” Noct sat down again and picked up a candlestick.
“It is not about the statue. I have already punished you, there is no use lingering on it. It is simple a fact of my nature. I maintain my own hoard, and that is all. Others may not.”
River thought it over. “But I’m doing it right now?”
“I am trying not to think about it,” Master said, tightly. River was pushing his luck.
River set the polished cup aside, moving on to a platter. Master plucked the cup from the nest, eyeing it. It must be satisfactory, because he stood to put it away.
He thought about the bath. Noct still didn’t let him get clean on his own, insisting on washing his hair and body for him. Was that “maintenance” to Master?
“Am I part of your hoard?”
“Of course, my treasure. Have I not made it clear?” Noct shook his head, amused.
“Then… why do I count as ‘other’? Can’t I help?” Master huffed.
“It is hard to explain. I… suppose you may touch and move pieces of my hoard. Organize, perhaps.”
“Like the jewelry you keep meaning to display?” He thought of the rings that got caught in Master’s claws.
“Yes. Like that. A fine idea. Will that keep you busy for now?”
“I guess,” he shrugged.
“Hm. What would help you?” asked Master, “You are mine, so I must know.”
“A clock,” he said immediately. “I never know what time it is in here.”
“Very well.”
“And… some puzzles?” Noct made a sound of curiosity.
“Um, like jigsaw puzzles. They come in a box with hundreds or thousands of pieces and you have to fit them together into a picture.”
“Interesting. Yes, I will get you puzzles. I may take up a collection. I enjoy art, but the curved walls make it difficult to hang paintings. These... puzzle pictures may be a satisfying compromise.”
“Thank you, Master.”
Noct reached out and patted his head affectionately. “You are so pretty and good for me, how could I say no?”
___________________
The clock was just as gorgeous as the rest of Master’s furniture. A beautiful grandfather clock, it rang the hour and half hour with pretty bells and chimes.
Master had acquired ring holders, earring displays, and glass cases. The cases were for his most opulent pieces, like his diamond encrusted necklaces and assortment of actual crowns and tiaras.
River decided he wouldn’t ask where those came from.
Master asked that he sort them by gem and then by metal, and River was glad to do it. It was satisfying in its own way, and the hum of appreciation and murmurs of ‘good boy’ made him blush.
He never got thanked for his work before. Master ruffled his hair when he passed by, and scooped up the finished cases to put them on dedicated shelves.
The gems glittered from across the room, bathing the entire section in tiny rainbows when the lantern light was right. It was so pretty.
And Master had been taking such good care of him. The same kind of loving affection he extended to all of his hoard.
Outside, he was just another slave. In here, he was Master’s precious gem. His treasure. River was his, and that meant something.
River was having a wonderful dream. Warmth all over, soft kisses with brushes of sharp teeth, claws trailing lightly down his stomach, a gentle scaled hand tucking under his waistband-
He woke with a start, an uncomfortable wetness in his pants. Ew.
“Mmm?” hummed Noct. Uh oh.
Master opened an eye at his silence, yawning. “Whasss it?” he slurred from across the nest.
“Nothing!” he squeaked. Master narrowed his eyes.
“Um…” there was no way he was going to tell Noct he had a wet dream, and he especially wasn’t going to say it was about him.
“I just really need to wash up right now.”
Master yawned again, stretching, and River very carefully did not look at him.
Noct pulled the key out from under his nightshirt and unlocked the cuff. River awkwardly got up, hoping Noct didn’t notice anything.
But Noct got up with him, sleepily following him to the bath.
“Um. Can I go by myself? Please?”
Noct tilted his head. “Why-” his eyes went wide, nostrils flaring, and he glanced down at River’s pants and then looked away. “Go ahead,” he said, embarrassment in his voice.
So much for that. How humiliating.
He scrubbed himself down in the bath, trying to get rid of a scent he couldn’t smell himself. He took a moment to relax a bit in the water, trying to delay further shame.
Of course, what to do with the soiled clothes? He completely forgot to grab a change of underwear in his rush to get out of there.
He’d have to go without boxers. He wouldn’t be able to look at Master again if he went in wearing dry cum stains.
Noct was still awake as he walked into the den. He was staring up at the ceiling, flat on his back. He pointed to a folded set of pajamas and fresh underwear on the edge of the nest.
“Thanks.”
“Mhm.” Noct rolled over, facing into the cut stone rim of the nest. River shuffled into the new sleep clothes.
With any luck, they’d never talk about it.
___________________
It was the first day with “outside time”, and the weather was perfect. Sunny, with fluffy white clouds far in the distance.
Master was laid out in his large form, stretched out and relaxed like a cat.
“Do not wander too far,” he rumbled.
“Yes, Master.” River looked out into the woods. The sunlight streamed through the tree leaves, sunbeams glittering onto the foliage.
River had spent his life in cities, as slaves did, with little signs of nature. Even city parks were off limits to them, and only the wealthiest had courtyards worth mentioning.
Birds sang on the branches, as if the dragon just a few yards away was nothing.
He glanced back towards Noct. His head was between his long front legs, his eyes shut. Smoke curled up to the sky from his snout.
He looked back into the forest. There was a narrow path off to the right.
A little walk couldn’t hurt.
___________________
The sun felt so good. Of course a human needed the sun, how could be so foolish? It felt too nice to not be good for health.
He shifted his wings, stretched them up into the air and folded them back down. So nice.
He kneaded the soil beneath his claws. A sliver of bone poked his palm. Hmph. He ought to clean up these bones. They had served their purpose. He didn't need them anymore.
That was for another day, though.
Noct took in a deep breath, tasting the sweet smell of plants and game in the air. But River’s personal scent of soap and herbs was not so close. He shot up, listening for him.
The birds had stopped singing.
“River,” he called. “Come.” He heard twigs snapping and leaves rustling as his precious gem rushed back, but there was an unease in the air he didn’t like.
“Master?”
“Come here.” Noct didn’t look away from the woods.
“What is it?”
___________________
“Hush.” Master was more alert than he’d ever seen him, staring off into the forest.
Noct grabbed him suddenly, tucking him in between his front leg and side.
“Lie down. Do not move.” His voice was urgent, and River kept still.
It was warm, a little too warm, but he didn’t move. He looked up at Master’s face.
His eyes were narrowed, his mouth ajar. Smoke poured from the corners of his jaw, and his teeth gleamed. But there was no snarl or intimating hiss. Master was tense, but made no move to threaten whatever it was.
But then the atmosphere became thick, and a buzzing stirred under his skin. The air itself seemed to vibrate, and his hair stood up on end.
He dared to peek out from under his curved claws. Nothing. Then he saw it.
A shadow in the distance, blocking out sunbeams and glints from under the trees, moved slowly through the forest. It was hard to tell the size of the thing; it could even be bigger than Master for all he knew.
It lumbered like no beast he had ever seen before.
Master relaxed; his head coming to rest between his legs again.
He wanted to ask, but Master had ordered him quiet and the creature was still there. Looking at it gave him a headache, so he turned away.
River waited and waited, and after what felt like forever:
“It is gone,” rumbled Noct, “you may come out.”
River stepped out from the heat and into the sun. The breeze was nice on his face, and the birds were singing again.
“What was that?” he asked.
“Oh, it was only a Thing of the Woods.” Huh?
“Thing of the Woods?” Noct cracked an eye open.
“Have you not heard of the Things? They are in the sea, deep in mountains, skies, forests. Harmless. Spirits of the great nature. Distant parents of all things some say.”
“Never heard of them.”
Noct tutted, and with a whoosh of smoke he was small again. He pulled River into his lap.
“You humans are silly creatures,” he said. He began to purr, and he flopped on his back into the dirt and tugged River along to lie on his chest.
“It is a beautiful day. Nap with me,” he commanded.
Noct frowned. His precious gem was acting strange. He was pale, and took far more naps than usual. He didn’t seem as interested in cooking or much of anything, and he clung close to Noct at night.
Was he sick? He didn’t understand. River had all the things he needed. A warm bed, good food, clean water, attention, regular care, and all the toys and puzzles and games Noct could find.
He looked down at River, partially in his lap, adorably asleep. His freckles were stark against his skin as opposed to beautifully blending into a bronzy smoothness. Noct curled his tail over him and waited for him to wake up.
___________________
“You need a healer,” said Master. River chewed the inside of his cheek.
“Are you sure?” He’d never been to a doctor before.
“Yes. You are ill.” Noct’s voice held no room for argument, and he was too tired to bother.
Noct unlocked the cuff around his ankle. It was a weird sensation after so long, and something about it made him feel exposed.
Noct scooped him up into his arms and walked towards the exit. He was vaguely annoyed that Master insisted on carrying him, but he didn’t feel like walking anyway.
But when they reached outside, Master set him down and transformed into his massive flying form.
“Hold still,” he rumbled, and River froze as Master’s huge hand wrapped around him. Noct lunged into the air, and they were off.
Don’t look down, he thought, squeezing his eyes shut. He knew Noct wouldn’t drop him, but the rush of wind made his head spin and his gut clench.
Soon the wind stopped coming at his face, and instead quieted. River cracked an eye open, and saw the town square slowly come towards his feet. He looked up. Noct’s ruby wings glowed with light, and they were fully outstretched, circling them downward.
He’d never seen Noct’s wings completely unfolded before, and the size was breathtaking.
Faint shouting reached his ears, and the square was practically abandoned when they landed.
Master changed again, and wrapped his arm around River’s waist.
His tail swished, and River knew enough about Noct’s body language to tell he was either nervous or suspicious. Probably both.
“Do you know the way to the healer?” he murmured.
“I’m not from here,” he explained. “I have no idea.”
“Hm.” Noct pulled River close to his chest, eyes darting around the street.
“Come,” he said, guiding River to a bench on the side of the square. They sat together, and Noct put his arm around River’s shoulder.
“Now we will wait and ask a passerby.”
“Okay.”
___________________
He was half asleep on Noct’s shoulder before he jostled him awake.
“Stop that.”
“Sorry, Master.” Noct sighed.
“This is not working,” he said, frustrated. People were moving through the square again, but they were avoiding them. The midday sun was in the sky, and the villagers needed to run errands even if Noct was intimidating as hell.
Noct stood and tugged River along by the hand. He cornered a woman by the bakery, and her eyes went wide with fear.
“Pardon me,” says Noct, smooth and in his best calming voice. The effect worked on River, but not her for some reason. “Would you be so kind as to point us towards the healer? I apologize for taking up your time.”
She pointed a shaking hand to a nearby building. Noct glanced down the street. “Much appreciated,” he said.
The woman squeaked a ‘you’re welcome’ and River mouthed a ‘thanks’ as they passed. She gave him a brief and shaky smile before darting into the safety of the bakery.
But Noct had grown impatient, and picked him up again. He made long strides over the stones, a smooth movement that River barely felt.
They came to a small stone building with a tile roof. The sign must have said ‘doctor’ or something, because Noct put him down and knocked, tail calmer but still swishing.
“Come in,” said a voice.
Noct reached over him to turn the handle, and they walked in together.
The building was one large room. There was a raised, long platform to one side of the room, and the other side was occupied with jars and bottles.
The doctor was busy stocking the shelves with bottles before he turned. His eyes went wide, and he glanced between them from under his thin wire glasses. But before Noct could comment, his expression smoothed.
“How may I help you, Mr…?”
“I am Noct. River is sick,” explained Master, gesturing to him. “I do not know enough about humans to fix it.”
“I see. And you’re River?”
He nodded. “Yes, sir.”
“Have you ever been to a doctor before?”
“No, sir.” From the corner of his eye, he saw Noct sit in a chair. His tail was still, elegantly curling near his leg.
“Sit up on this table,” said the doctor. He hopped on. The doctor took out a pencil and a stack of papers.
“I’ll need to ask some basic questions, give you a physical, and then we’ll talk about any issues. And feel free to ask me about anything you don’t understand. Sounds good?”
River glanced at Master. “Yes, sir.”
“Great. Some of these are fairly personal. Would you like Mr. Noct to step out?”
“Oh, um, no.” River shifted. “I don’t mind.” The doctor gave him a strange look, but said nothing. He turned back to the papers.
“Last name?”
“Uh, I don't have one.”
“Mm. Age?”
River shrugged. “Adult?”
“Occupation?”
“Slave.” The doctor paused.
“And I assume Mr. Noct is your master?” River nodded. “I see.”
“Sexually active?”
“No.”
“Ever?”
River fidgeted. “No.”
“Does… does your master beat you?” The doctor asked, quiet.
“No.”
Noct sighed from his chair. “Answer the man honestly, my gem. He must know, for your health.”
“But... you don’t,” he said. Master cocked his head. River looked back at him, equally confused. Surely he didn’t mean the punishment Noct gave him weeks ago. An open hand, no bruises, barely a mark on him. That wasn’t a beating. Maybe if Master used a switch, or actually used his strength and a fist he’d answer differently.
“Please elaborate.”
Noct gestured for him to speak.
“Master punished me when I broke something.”
“Go on.”
“It wasn’t- he didn’t-” River’s ears turned red. “It was just a spanking. That’s all. It hurt but there weren’t any marks. That doesn’t count.” Noct was staring at him, and River wasn’t sure how to read his expression.
The doctor made a note. “I see.”
They went through a few more questions before finally moving on.
The doctor had him face towards a chart of arrows on the wall, and had him list off the directions they pointed.
He checked his ears by whispering and making him repeat the words.
He checked his throat with a flat stick to keep his tongue down.
He looked at his teeth.
He had him lie down to poke around and feel his organs. He even made him get on his stomach to see if his spine was straight.
But the doctor didn’t seem to find anything wrong.
“So what actually brings you in today?”
River hesitated. He didn’t think there was much to talk about.
“He is constantly sleeping,” interrupted Noct. “And he is pale and cold all the time.”
Oh. He hadn’t really noticed. How nice; Master had been looking out for him.
The doctor looked at Noct, and then back to him.
“I hate to make assumptions,” said the doctor, “but you live in a cave, correct?”
“Yes, sir. Master’s home is in the mountains.” The doctor leaned close to examine his skin, especially the part where his freckles were.
“Is it harder than usual to lift heavy items?”
“I guess?” The doctor straightened, adjusting his glasses.
He took his pencil and a small pad from his pocket and scribbled something down. He tore off the paper and handed it out to him.
“I can’t read.”
“Ah, sorry.”
Instead, he passed it to Master. “Spend time in the sun, at least an hour a day. Get some exercise while you’re at it. Eat more fish, especially in the winter when you aren’t outside much,” he said.
“Why the sun?” asked Noct. “There is plenty of warmth inside. I make sure of it.”
“It’s not the heat. There’s not really a good explanation, but sunshine is important for human health,” he explained.
Master hummed. “And this will help?”
“It’s not a guarantee, but yes. If the problem persists, come back and we’ll figure something out. I’d also like to see River once a year for a physical.”
“I understand.” Noct stood, and reached for a bag on his waist. It clinked with gold coins, and he offered it to the doctor.
“Oh no,” said the doctor with a smile, hands up. “Don’t worry about it. The village takes care of my pay.”
“I am not part of the village.” Master plopped the bag of gold on the chair. His voice was firm. “Keep it as thanks.”
___________________
They walked through the streets, and River had to wonder why they weren’t leaving right away. Noct clearly wasn’t very welcome here, and by extension neither was he.
“Are you hungry?”
“A little.”
Master led him back towards the square. They stopped by a pastry shop, and Noct bought a mixed box of them to the terror of the storekeeper.
“Are you mad at me?” asked River as they sat on the bench, munching on sweets.
“No.”
River usually liked Master’s directness and simple answers. No tricks. Noct was always honest, but doubt fluttered in his chest. He nibbled on his cookie (chocolate chip).
A mother and her child passed by, her face buried in a shopping list. The kid stared at them, and River waved. The child waved back. Cute.
“Then are you upset with me?”
“No.” His tail swished. “I am simply upset.”
“Oh.”
Master reached for a cupcake. It looked smaller in his fingers. Human sized cupcakes weren’t made for dragon sized hands.
Noct studied the cupcake, turning it slowly. It was vanilla strawberry with pink icing. He watched Master take a small bite, licking up the sticky red jam filling that leaked out.
“I apologize,” said Noct. “It was not my intention to harm you.”
“I didn’t know about needing sunshine either,” he said. “It’s okay.”
“I should have guessed,” frowned Master. “Humans do not live inside dens.”
River didn’t have a response for that.
He picked up the second cupcake, a chocolate caramel, while Noct finished off a snickerdoodle.
They packed up the remaining sweets and started the long walk home.
River made sure to try and keep out of the forest shade. He felt a little better already.
“Oh my god,” said Kit. The dragon tilted his head, grinning at him. He picked up a torch from a holder bolted to the wall. The dragon spat a stream of fire, lighting the torch.
His captor grabbed him firm by the arm and onward they went.
The cavern got smaller and smaller, until they got to the end of it. The dragon blew out the torch and it was pitch black and cold.
Until the dragon pushed him forward, but instead of hard stone, he stumbled through fabric. It was a false wall.
Kit’s eyes took a moment to adjust to the sudden light.
The room was an enormous circle, with a high ceiling big enough for the dragon and his massive wingspan. In the center was a pit twenty feet across, lined with furs and fabrics. Giant stone pillars held glowing lanterns, and the room had a plethora of rugs, furniture, bookshelves, chests, and more. A stone fire pit was off to the side, and a cauldron of something steamed over the smoldering fire. The whole room was warm and dry, nothing like the cave they had just left.
The dragon let him take it all in before shoving him forward. He kept pushing Kit until he stumbled into the pit. He sank into it, and it was soft and plush like a giant mattress.
His captor took his wrists in hand, and with a clawed finger, sliced through the rope like it was nothing.
But he didn’t stop there. He cut through Kit’s clothes, his shirt, his pants, everything until he was completely nude.
He cupped his hands around his junk and flushed. The dragon snorted in amusement while inspecting him. He loomed over him, and Kit regretted not sitting up as soon as he fell into the pillows.
The dragon took hold of Kit’s chin, tilting his face back and forth. His golden eyes roamed over him, and Kit fought the urge to squirm.
He traced over Kit’s skin with the tip of a claw. Goosebumps broke out on his body.
“You are so pretty,” said the dragon. “Such beautiful green eyes.” His voice was like velvet and buttery smooth.
“Th- thank you, Master.” the dragon paused. He tilted his head to the side.
“Master…” said the dragon, grinning. “I like that.” He tapped the point of his claw on Kit’s chest. “Up,” commanded the dragon.
They got up, and the dragon- Master- pulled him along by the wrist, across the warm stone floor.
Master led him to a tunnel, an offshoot of the main room, and he could sense a change in the air.
The temperature became a touch warmer and the tunnel was humid.
It was a short passage, and it opened into another spacious room. A rectangular pool took up most of the length.
Master unbuttoned his red silk shirt and pulled it off. Patches of red scales glimmered in the dim light. Master stripped off his black trousers, and Kit had the sense to look away. The dragon picked up a bar of soap and a cloth.
“Come,” said the dragon, and he guided Kit into the water.
“I can’t swim,” he said as they waded into the warm, steamy water.
“I will not let you drown,” said Master. His voice was so sure, Kit believed him.
The pool was sloped, and gradually the water rose to just under his chest before he stopped. Master dipped the cloth into the warm water.
“You need a bath,” said Master, rubbing the soap and the cloth together. He set the soap down the edge of the pool. “Hold still.”
The dragon began to wash him.
It was… embarrassing to be bathed by another person. Master was painstakingly gentle, unlike before, like he was glass and could shatter.
The dragon was thorough and it genuinely felt nice when he washed Kit’s back and hair. He did, thankfully, let Kit wash his own bits.
After their bath, Master ordered him to sit in the nest, still nude.
The dragon (who had unfairly gotten dressed) dug through his various chests and drawers, pulling out a rainbow of assorted fabric. He dumped the pile next to Kit, and one by one Master held up each scrap to his face.
“Wha- what are you doing?”
“You will look better when I have decided what colors compliment you instead of choosing blindly,” said the dragon, matter-of-fact.
He tossed several yellow scraps to the side, dissatisfied. Apparently yellow was not Kit’s color.
After several minutes, the dragon had a sizable pile of ‘acceptable’ shades. And then Master fetched a few small boxes. He opened the lids, and Kit had never seen so much gold and silver in one place before.
“I should display these better,” muttered the dragon as he dug through the pieces. He huffed, smoky, as the rings caught on his clawed fingers. He upended the box of gold out of frustration, shaking out bracelets and earrings and who knew what else.
Eventually Master settled on a few pieces. Silver ‘washed out his skin’ or whatever that meant, and he decided on no gemstones because they ‘distracted from his eyes’.
Kit felt like a doll in the hands of someone playing dress-up. The dragon slipped on delicate golden arm cuffs on each arm and wide, snug bracelets for each wrist. He clipped an anklet on his left leg.
The jewelry only seemed to emphasize his nakedness, and Kit didn’t like it. He may have snuck a glance in between Master’s legs in the bath, but the dragon was smooth down there, like he’d magically tucked away what was supposed to be visible.
Logically speaking, the dragon probably wasn’t interested in him sexually. They were different species after all, but they looked too closely compatible for Kit’s comfort.
Sex was never Kit’s job before. He usually cleaned or worked in the kitchen. He always felt bad for the poor souls expected to pleasure their owners.
Thank goodness the dragon looked at him like an object and not a mate.
Master hid a yawn behind his hand, and Kit had to wonder what time it was. There were no windows in the cave obviously. He was exhausted, but that meant nothing. He wanted to go to bed since the trek into the woods.
The dragon scooped up the excess jewelry and fabrics, putting them away. He handed Kit a set of soft, luxurious blue pajamas.
Master watched him dress, and seemed pleased with the result.
“I am going to call you River,” said Master. “It suits you well. I am Noct.” It wasn’t the first time a master changed his name (‘Kit’ was a leftover), but River had a feeling this would be the last.
“Yes, Master. Thank you.” Noct smiled at him.
“Would you like some dinner? I have some spiced stew ready.”
“Yes, please.” River hadn’t really eaten since that morning.
Noct ladled the bubbling stew into a ceramic bowl. It smelled heavenly, and the warm combination of spices and tender fall-apart meat and soft potatoes comforted him.
Noct ate with him, and River took the time to really look at his new living conditions.
His expectations were all wrong. Master had not eaten him. The cave was not dirty and cold, but clean and warm. The expected smokiness of a dragon didn’t affect the air. Even the cooking fire and lanterns were smoke-free. Perhaps that was just how dragon fire was.
Master finished his meal first, and wandered off to dig through his things again. River helped himself to a second bowl as he thought. It was really good, and there was plenty in the pot.
The dragon definitely had a vast collection of finery, but no giant pile of coins like in fairy tales.
A huge bang shook him out of his head. Master was in the center of the nest, a hammer in hand. What was he doing?
He ate while he watched Noct hammer something into the stone. The vague curiosity turned into a wariness as Master picked up a coil of metal chain. He couldn’t see exactly what Noct was up to, but he could guess.
He shoveled the stew into his mouth.
Master attached the end of the chain to whatever he’d bolted to the stone, and began to walk to the exit. The chain clunked to the floor as he walked.
He was measuring how long River’s freedom of movement would be.
Noct stopped a few feet before the exit. He marked the chain with a claw. The nest was dead center in the dragon’s den, and River would be able to reach everything except the bathing pool and the entrance tunnel once he was attached.
At least there was that.
Master glanced up at him, and River looked away.
From the corner of his eye he saw Master spit fire, heating the iron red-hot, before taking it in hand and snapping off the desired length. Holy shit.
Master put away the rest of the chains. River heard a few clinking noises as Noct fidgeted with his project.
River finished his bowl, setting it to the side. He wasn’t hungry for thirds.
Noct came over, a shackle in his hand, the chain trailing behind him.
“I won’t run,” said River. “You don’t need to worry about me. I promise, Master.”
Master looked at him. “I know,” he said, locking the cuff around his right ankle. Master had padded the iron with fur, and River thanked god for small mercies.
“This is more for me than for you,” said Master. “I keep a close eye on my things. I would not want you to wander off. Try leaving.”
River walked to the opposite end of the den. The chain stopped him from even touching the false fabric. He tugged, just to prove to Noct he couldn’t do it.
“Very good,” he said. A strange sound came from Master’s chest, and River realized he was purring.
“Time for bed, treasure.” River followed Noct back to the nest. Master went around the room, dimming each lantern until the entire den was a very dim red. River made himself comfortable, which wasn’t hard. The nest was just a giant bed, and he was spoiled for choices for pillows and blankets.
Noct settled on the opposite side of the nest, curled up like a cat. His tail swished around to his side, and he was still purring.
River struggled to get to sleep. He was no stranger to chains or rope or even a cell.
But something about being trapped inside the earth, with only his Master for company unnerved him.
Curt felt awful about the whole affair. It was gross. Taking an innocent young man and letting him be devoured for the sake of what? Some building materials?
Was it really worth a life just to have a larger village?
It troubled him. Guilt sat in the back of his mind like a rotting corpse, tainting more and more of his thoughts over the weeks. The image of the slave pleading for them to let him go, that he didn’t want to die to the jaws of the dragon, haunted his dreams until he could no longer bear it.
He went to the priest, but there was nothing the church could offer him. It wasn’t a sin, they said, it was for the greater good. One man’s life in exchange for security.
It still didn’t settle him.
The ghost of the man (he didn’t even ask his name before he died) still lingered in his soul.
Curt thought of the bones at the cave’s entrance.
He couldn’t undo his death, but maybe he could lay the young man to rest. Find some remains, bury him in the churchyard, with flowers and thanks and a proper funeral.
Curt waited until the dragon flew west and disappeared past the horizon. He picked his way through the woods.
But as he examined the ground, there were no fresh bones. All the shards and skeletons were sun-bleached and weathered.
He’d have to venture into the cave to look for him, or the man would never be at peace.
Curt grabbed the torch he brought and lit it with the flint and steel in his pocket. He crept into the cavern.
It seemed… small. It only took a few minutes to reach the back wall, and the size of the tunnel just didn’t make sense. He turned and looked towards the exit. The cave was funnel shaped, not nearly the size it boasted from the outside.
Huh.
And still, no sign of the dead man.
An eerie scrap of iron on stone echoed around him.
“Hello?” he called.
Silence.
Then he heard it again, from behind. Curt turned, and only saw the smooth wall of the cave. He reached out to touch the back wall, and it fluttered and bent under his touch.
What?
He pushed, and the- the fabric- gave way to reveal the true dragon’s den.
And in it sat the slave. Alive.
The man was sitting in a nest of pillows and furs. He hadn’t turned and seen Curt yet. He was dressed in skimpy purple clothes that showed off his shoulders and back, and gold sat on his arms and wrists.
Curt’s eyes followed the length of chain around the room, and it led out and into the nest. The dragon was keeping him like a dog on a rope.
He took a step towards the man, and he turned, startled.
“Hey,” said Curt.
“Um, h- hello.” The man looked scared of him, and Curt couldn’t understand why. Surely another human would be a welcome sight.
“Do you remember me? From before? I’m Curt. What’s your name?”
“I remember. I’m called River.”
Curt chewed the inside of his cheek. He eyed the lock of the shackle. It didn’t look complicated.
“I could get you out of here,” he offered.
“What?”
“I could pick the lock, and we could sneak away.” River looked down at his hands.
“I- I dunno.”
“C’mon,” said Curt, “Do you really want to be stuck in here with a dragon?”
River shrank away. “It’s better here,” he protested.
“What- how? You’re a prisoner!” He glanced over his shoulder. No dragon.
“It’s better than slavery,” argued River, “Master doesn’t hurt me like humans do. He takes care of me. And where would I go?” He wrapped his arms around himself. “I can’t read or write. I’ve never trained in anything. I don’t want to be whipped and sold again.”
Curt opened his mouth to argue, but what could he say? River was a slave. The mark on the back of his neck was obvious.
Curt didn’t know what exactly River went through before, but he could guess.
“But he still hurts you,” he said, still dubious.
“I’m safe here,” said River, shaking his head. “Just go away and forget about me.”
“You could be safe and free in the village. I’d protect you,” he offered. It would be difficult, but Curt could swing it.
“You don’t get it. He loves me,” insisted River, desperation in his voice.
“That- that’s,” he stammered. “He’s a dragon.”
A massive thud sounded in the tunnel. Shit.
River didn’t seem alarmed, instead shifting to sit up straight. Dread pooled in Curt’s gut.
He turned to the small entrance, and wondered how the dragon would fit through the doorway. He didn’t have to wait long.
A… man with ruby horns and a shimmering tail walked into the cave. He saw Curt immediately and snarled, smoke pouring from his mouth. Fuck.
“I- I’m sorry-”
“You are trespassing,” he hissed, stalking towards him.
“I was just-” the dragon grabbed him by the front of his shirt, lifting him up off the ground.
“What?” he growled, “What were you ‘just’ doing? Stealing?”
“No!” he squirmed, “I was looking for his body!” The dragon put him down.
“Explain.”
“I-” he glanced between the dragon and River. “I thought you killed him,” he whimpered. “I wanted to bury his body.”
The dragon stepped back, tilting his head and looking him up and down. He strolled around to River, a clear dismissal.
“My treasure,” he cooed, petting River’s hair with his clawed hand. “Did he hurt you?”
“No Master,” said River, leaning into the touch like a cat. The dragon hummed, pleased. He turned to Curt and bared his teeth.
“Get out.”
Curt sprinted to the door, running out into the tunnel, chest heaving as he stumbled through the woods. He ran until he couldn’t anymore, slumping against a tree. He panted as he struggled to catch his breath.
River was right, he should just forget and go home. He never wanted to get that close to death again.
