(drew them on vacation while listening to Shane Rimmer's A Touch of Pink song and David Holliday's Hello Stranger in The Story of Cinderella recording X3💙💚)
Warnings: Kidnapping, fear. (I think that’s it, but let me know!)
Pairings: Platonic Prinxiety
Characters: Virgil, Roman
Word Count: 1613 words
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It had been about a day since the prince had been nicked directly from the castle gardens.
The ground had disappeared under his feet, guards shouting curses and drawing their weapons, his crown toppling from his brow and hitting the ground.
His legs kicking the air uselessly, trying to find a way out of the dragon’s claws and drop back to the ground. Though the higher he had been taken, the more Virgil realized he really didn’t want to be dropped. At all. It would have been a lethal drop. He had, admittedly, let out a pitiful noise at the height and maybe Virgil had been hallucinating with terror at that point, but he could have sworn that the dragon’s talons had closed in slightly more on his arms—only it wasn’t painfully. It was almost like it was trying to prevent him from slipping accidentally.
That and there wasn’t even a chance that the kingdom’s army could do anything without risking the prince a serious injury. They could aim at the great beast all they wanted, but if the dragon made a sudden dip or if they didn’t have a perfect or clear shot, the arrow could end up hitting the royal instead.
A part of him still didn’t truly believe that it had actually happened, but if it weren’t for the large red dragon snoozing quietly in the corner of the cave he was currently sat in, he would be lying to himself.
Virgil had been waiting for the past day for something to happen.
Nothing had happened.
Well, nothing was a relative term he supposed.
He had tried to escape a good handful of times. Each and every time his plans had been foiled and he had been caught in the act. The back of his tunic was scruffed between very long and very sharp teeth (that could very easily tear him to shreds) and heaved him right back over to the same spot on the dragon’s hoard he had been deposited on earlier.
He had just kept doing it, right up until the moment he thought the dragon was truly getting upset with him. That was a boundary he was not willing to push, especially not since his life was on the line. He had stopped trying to escape and eventually just started looking around the cave and the hoard in turn. The dragon had seemed content with that and had finally decided to take a little rest as night began to fall.
So, now Virgil just nervously twiddled with the overly ornate sleeves of his tunic, playing with the golden thread before it began to unravel under his fingertips.
His eyes anxiously flicking back and forth between the giant sleeping fire-breathing lizard and the opening of the cave not thirty feet away. The same opening of the cave that showed a beautiful inky black night sky, smattered with stars. A part of him longed to be back out there, but the other part of him knew that if he tried, the dragon would only manage to nab him again.
The dragon was big, Virgil was not.
But, another part of him suggested, if you make it out and make it back to the kingdom, you’d be far safer there.
Virgil nibbled his lower lip.
Well, the dragon did look like it was out for the night. So, before he knew it, Virgil was pushing himself to his feet on the unstable ground of the dragon’s pile of gold.
Freezing up completely as a few stray coins shifted and slid forward creating slight clattering noises, he waited with bated breath to see if anything else would happen. When the dragon did nothing but shift in its sleep, Virgil took that as his go ahead. The prince’s eyes were locked forward, but would flicker between the dragon and freedom every once in a while.
His pace was agonizingly slow, but if that was what got him out of here, then that was what worked.
He could see the outside right there, teasing him. It was a taunt, sharp as a barb.
Come and get me, your highness, it seemed to whisper, you’ll never make it.
Virgil could feel the cool air brushing against his skin. It felt freer out there, certainly more spacious and away from the fire-breathing menace currently keeping him trapped here.
Slow step after slow step brought him closer and closer to getting back to his kingdom and his people alive.
He knew his brother would not be faring well. He would be sick with worry. The king would have immediately sent out a search and rescue party to retrieve the stolen prince, but they had no leads on his whereabouts.
Virgil wouldn’t be surprised if the royal knights never found him.
If he were being truly honest, Virgil didn’t even know where in the kingdom he was, if he was even in the same country.
The sound of a snort from behind him made his shoulders tense.
It didn’t take a genius to know that he had been spotted. He heard coins clattering to the ground and papers and silks fluttering to the floor. The sound of claws clicking against stone caught his attention just as the rumbling from behind him only grew louder and more prominent. It wasn’t long before he felt the hot breath over his shoulders. Another displeased huff blew his hair forward and he turned to look up over his shoulder and the pale red eyes looking back down at him.
Virgil smiled sheepishly up at the dragon and the dragon’s eyes narrowed, before they rolled.
It was such a human expression, it was almost uncanny.
“Let’s not be too hasty now,” the prince said, taking a step forward to test the waters.
The dragon only leaned down and opened its jaw just enough to snag the back of Virgil’s tunic and heft him off the ground and off his feet once more, as if he weighed nothing. Though, compared to the strength of a dragon, Virgil probably did weigh nothing.
“Oh come on!” He growled, trying to wriggle free. He only managed to get himself twisted around as he swayed back and forth in pace with the dragon’s steps.
The dragon huffed at him, blowing more hot air around his shoulders.
Virgil attempted to kick his legs backward and hit the dragon in the throat. He knew it wouldn’t do anything since its scales seemed to be thicker than a knight’s armour, but it didn’t stop him from trying to cause even the slightest bit of discomfort. “You can’t really blame me for trying can you?”
A low rumbling sound vibrated through him and Virgil took at that at face value, even though he didn’t understand what was being said to him.
“Fine!” The prince snipped, “fine. Whatever, have it your way.”
Virgil wasn’t sure if the dragon could understand him, but either way talking to it made him feel better. As if he wasn’t so alone in this prison.
However, instead of being set back down on the same pile of gold and relics and collectibles, he was settled down into the crevice of where the dragon had been resting beforehand. Before he could make another run for it, though Virgil was a bit too confused by this change to really do anything, the dragon was laying back down and curling completely around him. Virgil was entirely encircled by the dragon itself and there was no hope of getting away from here unnoticed.
He groaned at this, pushing at the dragon’s softer underbelly, trying to squirm free.
The dragon responded to this by stretching out its wing and covering him even more. It curled the slightest bit closer to him, before staying there. It seemed that the dragon knew enough about how small and fragile humans were that it didn’t curl too tight around him.
Virgil gasped in response to that, before relenting. It was putting up a futile fight, he knew that. But still.
“You don’t have to be such a big jerk about it,” the prince grumbled, trying to struggle at least a little bit more. He felt the dragon rumble something around him and Virgil ceased his useless struggles. It wasn’t getting him anywhere anyway. “You didn’t win anything by the way. You’re just being the childish one here.”
The dragon snorted, and this time it almost sounded like Virgil was being laughed at. Was he being mocked?
“Oh, you think that’s funny?” He was given another grumbling response. “Please. You think you’re all that just because you can pick me up and carry me around wherever you want, huh? That’s just being power hungry and I do not appreciate it.”
The dragon didn’t response this time and Virgil took that as a win.
He might be completely trapped like this, but at least it was warm. And it was..kind of comfortable. To be real, it was more comfortable than trying to nap on the piles of cold gold. He was going to have to find some silks or something if he was really going to be here so long.
Virgil could worry about that some other time though. The warmth that was encircling him was rather nice and, the longer he listened to the sounds around him, he oddly enough found himself fairly at ease. The steady breathing from around him, the steady thundering heartbeat from behind him. He felt…safe.
Which was weird. He was probably in one of the most dangerous positions a prince could be in and he felt relatively fine.
As he let his eyes slip closed, he found his mind wandering into a dreamless sleep.
hello i come bearing an au that came out of nowhere that still hasn’t a name but basically its like,,,, a fantasy au?
okay so we’ve got
Patton! who’s a squire in training, in fact, that’s where he meets Roman. his life is alright until Roman takes him on this grand adventure and he almost dies a few times. its not a big deal to him though! he makes a lot of new friends and he loves them because he is like that™ :))
Roman, who’s a squire in training as well BUT he wishes he could do a lot more so :/ sorry bud. he’s the one that starts the adventure because, well, its an adventure. he probably overhears something about the travelling professor and he wants to get a better look at the man. then he accidentally steals something so he makes a run for it when Logan starts running after him
there’s Logan, who’s a professor/researcher who’s always traveling. he makes potions and uses herbs to cure illnesses and he has suitcase that’s sort of like newt scamanders’s. he joins patton and roman because they accidentaly stole something from him and he runs after them to take it back but its already too late and he can’t get back so he goes with them
also Virgil, who’s a prince on the run (i think) (idk i still have to decide alright) he doesn’t get along with roman very well at first but he sticks with the group because, well, where else is he gonna go? might as well
Deceit, is a witch that lives in the woods. the townspeople are afraid of him, but he’s actually pretty nice and fun to be around! he accidentally cursed himself and that’s why he’s half snake (the extra arms were there to begin with) and he’s very grumpy and sarcastic (patton managed to actually make him sincerely laugh once and he holds that as his greatest accomplishment) he grew up in the forest after being exiled from his town a year before remus
and there’s Remus! he lives with deceit in the forest and he’s basically a creepy shakespeare wannabe (but our friends love him anyway) he’s an orphan because his parents didn’t want him once he started saying weird stuff (like “mom! mom! can i impale a rat??” not the weirdest as i’ve said it too, but eh people are conservative i guess. its the medieval times) so they just left him in the forest where he met deceit. the two are inseparable now.
Started: July 22nd, 2019, 10:27 AM Finished: July 23rd, 2019, 12:51 AM
Word Count: 1,092 words
Warning: Angst, mention of death, mention of war, panicking (please tell me if you think I should add any others, I’m not very good at warnings,,)
— — —
Twilight shone above, stars twinkling high up in the midnight black sky. A young prince that went by the name of Virgil watched over his kingdom from his room’s balcony as he stared up at the tiny sparkling lights. It was a gorgeous night in his kingdom, he would admit, despite the drizzle of rain that was only turning into a full on downpour. The kingdom’s large town was almost completely hidden, surrounded by a wide, thick banyan forest. If he were honest, he imagined other kingdoms wouldn’t be able to find where they were if not for his father’s massive castle.
Virgil brushed his black bangs out of his eyes with his hands, not minding that he was getting soaking wet due to the rain. It was worth it, as it hid the tears running down his face from the unnatural color that filled his eyes. Dark purple. He didn’t bother turning to look at the double wide doors behind him as it opened and closed with a barely audible ‘click’.
“Virgil, kiddo, you shouldn’t be out in this storm.” A familiar voice called to him. Patton, a servant of the castle, and above all, his closest friend. “Come inside and talk to me... It’s about... about Logan...”
Virgil bit back a harsh retort, not wanting to snap at Patton. The prince knew he didn’t deserve that. Not after everything he’s done for him. But why? Why was he here? Why hadn’t Logan come to get him instead? Where was his number one soldier? Where was his lover? Was he mad at him? He wouldn’t be surprised. Not after the fight they had had.
War was raging on between his kingdom and another one not too far away. Logan had been called to fight and... well, the prince hadn’t taken it well. Things were said that he knew both of them didn’t mean, but he didn’t have time to apologize days later before Virgil’s father took his army, along with Logan, into battle.
Panic as well as worry and regret settled in him, making him feel like a heavy rock was sitting at the bottom of his stomach. Why hadn’t he apologized to him? Why hadn’t they made up yet? Where was he?
Was he...?
Virgil shook his head, turning to look at Patton, though he could barely see him because of the rain and lack of light. “Why didn’t he come and talk to me himself?” He questioned, his right hand curling into a fist as his left tightly gripped the side of the railing. Patton sighed softly. “Virgil... honey... come inside, please...”
This time, he obeyed.
The prince followed the servant inside. Patton sat on the edge of the prince’s bed, patting the spot next to him. “Come, sir next to me. I’ll replace your bedsheets before you go to bed, don’t worry.” He murmured softly, his eyes softened with pain. It made Virgil feel sick to his stomach as he slowly went and took his place next to him on the dark purple and black bed.
Logan was dead. He knew it. He knew it he knew it he knew it. Patton would tell him he died and— He felt a hand rest on his leg. “Virgil, breathe kiddo, okay? Breathe.” The servant cooed, and only then did he realize his breathing had been growing heavy. He nodded, taking a few deep breaths, doing his best to force the horrible thought away. “...What... what happened to... to L-... L-L-Lo...?” He asked fearfully, dreading the answer. Patton closed his eyes and looked up, as if he was trying to be strong for him and not cry, despite being close to Logan as well. “Virge... Logan... Logan is not dead... but... very, very close to being so. He... He was caught in an explosion of harmful magic, and... the healers don’t know if—“
Before Patton could even finish, Virgil was on his feet, dashing away with tears beginning to drip down from his eyes once again as he ran to the infirmary in the castle. He couldn’t believe it. It is what he thought it was, but he wished it wasn’t. He wished Patton would have told him someone special was waiting for him and Logan would have greeted him with a flower and Virgil would have embraced his lover tightly before Logan lifted him up into his arms to spin him around and—
Virgil had no more time to think as he burst into the room where all the hurt soldiers stayed. A healer turned to him, her attention having been catch by the panting and crying prince. “Prince Virgil! What’s wrong? Are you okay?” She asked confusedly, brushing her dark curly hair away from her light blue eyes. The prince, taking a moment to catch his breath, couldn’t contain his worry any longer. “I-I have to s-see m-my... my boyfriend... L-Logan... Logan Croft...” He choked out, his eyes like pools of nervousness. The healer’s eyes softened in sympathy, knowing well of the severely hurt solider. “Ah... of course.” He murmured. “Right this way, your royal highness.”
Virgil followed close behind her, feeling as if he might never get to his lover as they kept passing what seemed to be an endless stream of doors. Finally, at room 75, they stopped. “This is his room, no one less is in there, I believe.” She murmured, slowly cracking open the door for him. He stepped inside, heartbroken at the sight in front of him. “I’ll give you two some time alone...”
As the door closed shut, Virgil stumbled over to Logan’s bed, almost falling as he was struck with grief. Logan was... was not doing well, as much as he hated to say it. The right half of his face had a claw mark scar running down from his eyebrow, down his eye, and to his jawline. His neck was badged up, as well as his left arm and hand. He was deathly pale, and looking like he was barely breathing. The heavily sobbing prince fell to his knees, shakily grabbing his lover’s right hand. He’ll never hear his laugh again. Or his calm and wonderful voice. Or stare into those dark ocean blue eyes. Or get married. Or one day, maybe even rule together, as kings.
Or say he’s so sorry he’s been a terrible boyfriend.
A few days had passed. They had remained just as uneventful as the first one had been and Virgil watched sunset after sunset. Each and every day that brought those fading hues across the sky chipped away a little more of his resolve.
Life in the cave wasn’t…bad, necessarily. It was far from easy and certainly far from comfortable, but he was still alive, so that counted for something.
Of course, he’d still tried to escape when the dragon’s back was turned, but each attempt gifted the same response. He was snagged by the back of his tunic, hefted up and carried right back over toward the dragon’s bed. Once there, he was kept pinned in place until he quit fighting. It never took long before Virgil tired himself out and eventually ended up giving in.
The dragon was never too bothered to feel the prince’s struggles cease.
There was almost always a content rumble that followed Virgil’s relaxing. A thrum that hummed through him. The prince was left to guess that it was a soothing mechanism that the dragon would use on unruly or frightened young.
It was a demeaning thought– being treated as no better than a hatchling but, again, Virgil had to remind himself that he was indeed still alive.
The feeling of cool hard metal in his hand brought him back to the present. He was sitting back against the stone wall of the cave, idly tossing a few golden coins up in the air. He flicked his wrist, watching silently amused at the glittering pieces before catching them swiftly and tossing them up again. It was the most entertaining thing he had.
The dragon was nestled close by, eyes watching the human lazily as he amused himself. It was more of a curious glance than anything serious.
The longer the dragon looked, the more uncomfortable Virgil got.
“What?” He finally snapped, turning to face the great crimson lizard, the gentle clattering of coins stilled as he held them.
The dragon only tilted its head at him, seemingly asking what the problem was.
Virgil rolled his eyes, letting his head thump against the stone wall. “I’m not going to run away,” he said sharply, before throwing a hand out in the direction of the cave’s entrance—where the dragon had not-so-subtly positioned itself in front of, just so the prince wouldn’t be able to make a break for it without having to go around the beast itself. “You’re right in my way and, believe it or not, I don’t have a death wish.”
He tossed the coins up again, listening to the gold clink together. The fading colours from outside danced off the hoard. It was just another day where Virgil remained captive without the knights rescuing him.
No, he didn’t need some strong man to walk in sword-a-swinging to save him, he could save himself. This situation just made saving himself increasingly difficult.
The dragon huffed at him, looking rather distraught.
“Do you want something from me?” The prince snipped, bitterness raising in the back of his throat. He side-glanced the dragon as it crept the slightest bit closer to him. “If you want riches and gold and glittering jewels, I can’t give you that.” Not here at least. He took a breath. “Look, you seem, ah, decent. Maybe even decent enough to return me home?”
The dragon—as it had softened the slightest bit—instantly shut down and snorted at him.
Hot air brushed Virgil’s dark bangs back and he sneered. “Well,” he said, his tone lacked mirth and amusement, “it was worth a shot, wasn’t it?”
The dragon rolled its eyes, shifting to lean back on its forearms. They were both surrounded by the soft sounds of gold clinking again as Virgil resumed tossing the coins up and down.
That relative silence was quickly broken by the prince’s stomach growling.
Pink immediately rushed to his cheeks and Virgil could feel heat creeping up the back of his neck. The dragon’s ears twitched and it lifted its head again, watching Virgil wrap his arms around his midsection, stifling the sounds.
He wasn’t entirely sure why he was embarrassed, he just was.
He turned his attention away from the dragon watching him intently now. However, that only lasted for so long. The dragon made a soft humming noise, wanting to get the prince’s attention. It succeeded after a moment, but mostly because the constant noise was annoying.
“I’m just a bit hungry,” he admitted, red dotting his face. “That’s all, it’s not a big deal.”
The dragon pushed up so it was sitting back on its hind legs. It turned around, looking over its shoulder toward the mouth of the cave. It almost seemed to be debating whether or not it should just go and get something to eat anyway. Virgil could almost see the cogs working in its head, before the dragon turned back to look at him skeptically.
It almost felt like he was being accused of faking.
“If you’re thinking about leaving me here while you go hunting,” Virgil said slowly, watching the dragon’s expressions to the best of his ability, “I won’t run.”
The dragon scrunched its snout in disbelief.
Virgil scoffed. “Come on, why would I lie? You could probably literally scent me all over the forest if you tried,” he threw his hands up in exasperation. “But fine, you want to drag me along on your hunting trip and risk me getting hurt? Fine.” The reaction he got from the great beast was exactly what he had thought it would be; a soft whine as it tried to figure out the best solution. Virgil examined his nails, feigning boredom. “It would be all your fault if something happened to me.”
The dragon wasted no time in nabbed Virgil by the back of his tunic—not without a squall of surprise—and the prince was settled back down into the soft cloths and silks on the dragon’s bed. (It had been collected and piled for the prince himself, since gold and old maps weren’t comfortable for a human to sleep on.)
Virgil winced backward slightly as the dragon snarled in a warning at him, those sharp teeth making a threatening reappearance. He easily understood the dragon was telling him that if he tried to escape, the prince would just be hunted down again.
His stomach jumped at the terrifying display, before surprise painted itself across the human’s features as the dragon then pushed itself back up into a stand and stalked toward the entrance of the cave with its shoulders set. It sent a final glance over its shoulder toward the shocked prince before stepping down onto the mountainside, spreading its great wings and taking off into the night.
He sat there for a moment. The silence seemed to echo in the cave like bells and it took a moment, but he understood he was alone.
Alone.
It was the perfect opportunity to make a break for it. Did it matter if Virgil knew where the kingdom was in relative to where he was now? Yes. It definitely did. But getting out of the cave was his first priority and figuring out where he was could wait.
It took no time at all before he was scrambling to his feet, stumbling down off the mount of riches and jogging toward the front of the cave. He paused a moment longer, making sure the dragon hadn’t decided to camp out and wait until Virgil made his escape to show itself again. When the coast was indeed clear, he climbed down the rocky entrance leading up to the cave itself and broke into a dead sprint the minute his boots touched dirt.
He’d never been so relieved to feel dirt again.
Night was falling quicker now, and the trees began to loom with overgrown shadows. He could hear the howling of wolves off in the distance, but it didn’t matter.
Not when he could get home.
A loud, pained and rather shrill cry suddenly bellowed over the air, seeming to shake the very trees around him.
Virgil’s blood ran cold at the sound. He had an itching feeling he knew the owner of that agonized noise.
Don’t, a small voice in his head yearned– pleaded with him, don’t go back. Don’t go and help. If you do, you know the dragon will keep you prisoner longer. You have the chance to go home!
But, another part of him said, a louder part, how will you be able to sleep at night knowing you let the creature suffer in its last moments? You’ll lie awake, haunted by the sounds, knowing that you could have changed its fate.
He turned to look over his shoulder. The sound had been close enough that he could pinpoint the general direction of it. Virgil bit his lip, fighting every urge in his body to bolt again, make a blind beeline into the woods and leave everything that had happened to him in the past.
It would never had to be spoken of. He could just pretend it had never happened in the first place and move on with his life. Get back into the humdrum of his daily life and princely duties.
“You’re fucking insane,” he muttered, hands clenched to his sides.
Needless to say, the prince turned on his heel and went toward the sound.
It took awhile of searching and following. It was a mix between sitting and waiting in silence for the dragon to make another panicked and helpless cry into the night, and following it. Virgil was well aware that there were other creatures out in the forest, creatures willing enough to end the defenseless human prince where he stood.
When he’d stumbled upon the grotto where the dragon was currently hunched over, he ducked behind a tree, heart hammering in his chest. Virgil pressed his head against the bark.
You’re unbelievable. You had the perfect time to escape and look at you now.
He dipped around the tree and into plain sight. The dragon tensed instantly and its head shot up, a snarl already on its features and its eyes narrowed into distrusting slits. If Virgil hadn’t of known the dragon beforehand, he would have been terrified out of his mind at the murderous look. He also knew the beast was frightened, and defending itself by baring its teeth was one of the only things it could do.
Virgil raised his hands in surrender, heart slamming against his rib-cage, half-wondering if he’d made the wrong decision to come back and help. He was relieved when the dragon softened after a moment, taking in who was standing in front of it. It whined at him immediately afterward, shifting its entire body back to show the human prince its limb—which was caught in a series of barbed wires and sharp metal teeth.
Virgil wrinkled his nose.
Bright red blood splattered the area and continually oozed onto the ground into a puddle of crimson that shimmered dully in the cool moonlight. It was disgusting. There was just so much of it.
However, when Virgil tried to take a step toward the wounded appendage, the dragon growled at him.
He kept his hands up and halted in place. “I’m not going to hurt you,” he said, finding this situation the tiniest bit ironic. At this point, Virgil held all the cards. The dragon couldn’t do anything to him and they both knew it. He was the one that could decide what happened here and the dragon could only put up an angry facade to frighten away wayward travelers. “I’m going to help you get the trap off if you’ll allow me.”
The dragon still seemed hesitant. It watched him with keen and careful eyes, before relenting and shifting back a bit more to make its limb accessible.
Virgil approached, still slowly as the dragon was still watching him intently. The limb itself had barbs embedded into it from each and every possible side. It was such a cruel sight.
It was the work of people that wanted to cause misery to the creature they were catching, whether it was something magical and mythical or something real and powerless.
“Hunters,” he mused softly to himself. Though, he must have spoken loud enough for the dragon to hear since it chirped dejectedly at him. Virgil rolled his eyes. “What? I can’t say it wasn’t hunters.” He leaned forward, inspecting the trap a little more thoroughly. “Though, I don’t think you were their intended prey.” He motioned to the trap as an example. “If they wanted to catch a full grown-ass dragon, this would not be the trap to do it.”
The dragon leaned forward and nudged the prince in the back, big eyes blinking at him, almost confused as to why he knew this wouldn’t be the trap to catch something like it in.
“I know what you’re thinking,” he said, reaching forward and letting his fingers drift carefully over the barbs, looking for a weakened spot. “And no, I’ve never caught a dragon before. Hell, you’re the first one I’ve ever seen. My brother has always wanted to see one, you know.” Virgil gave a halfhearted laugh at that. “Though, I don’t think having his little brother kidnapped is exactly what he meant when he said that.”
After struggling for a moment, Virgil found a weakened spot in the barbed wires and tugged. The dragon yipped, and the prince winced from the sheer volume of it. He flinched back a moment as the pale red eyes focused on him as if he’d betrayed the creature.
“Sorry,” he gave an apologetic shrug of his shoulders, “I’ll warn you next time, okay? That way you won’t blow out my eardrums.”
His hands found the same spot he’d just pulled at and grabbed it again. His attention drifted back up to the dragon, making it obvious he was going to pull the trap again and the dragon gave a soft nod, as if telling him to get it over with.
Virgil tugged the wire again, the barbs pulling out further from the dragon’s skin. A loud rumbling sound erupted from behind him, showing the beast’s discomfort without harming the human’s hearing. He tugged harder, seeing the little process they were getting, but the more he yanked, the more the dragon fidgeted at his back.
His hand slid, a stray barb slicing over his palm and cutting it open. Virgil flinched back with a hiss, red painting his hand as blood blossomed through the opening the laceration caused.
He grit his teeth, the stinging almost unbearable. He’d been cut before, but not to this extent. Curling his injured hand back to himself, his eyes roved back to the barbed trap embedded in the dragon’s limb. He was being a wimp, the large creature had it worse then he did. A cut on the hand, so what?
“Let’s try this again,” the prince said, moving to get back to the trap when the dragon snarled at him instead, shifting the injured limb away from the small human. “What are you doing? I’m gonna help!”
The dragon growled lowly back at him, but it wasn’t threatening. It was more of a warning. Its eyes flickered down to the blood dripping down Virgil’s hand. His gaze followed the dragon’s and he rolled his eyes.
“I can still help,” he snapped, “it’s just a cut, it’s nothing too bad. Now move and lets get those barbs out of your foreleg.”
The dragon only reciprocated by pulling it further out of the prince’s reach.
Virgil thinned his lips. “Well, what do you suggest we do? Sit here because now we’re both injured and wait for some nice hunters to come back to their trap, kill you and ransom me for money?”
The dragon rumbled something, before snipping back at him as if giving him a sarcastic response. If Virgil had any doubt that the dragon understood human language and tone, this was the last bit of proof he needed.
“This isn’t going to work,” he finally said, settling down against the creature before tearing a strip of his tunic and beginning to tend to the laceration on his palm. He tied it tight enough to help with clotting, even as red kept dotting the cloth, quickly turning it a warm crimson. “I can’t believe I’m even arguing with you! You’re a dragon, you can’t speak to me. Most you can do is answer in sarcastic rumbles. Bare your teeth at me when you’re unhappy— wait.”
After finishing with his makeshift bandage, Virgil let his eyes focus on the barbed wires wrapped around the dragon’s limb. Pulling wasn’t doing much because it was still curled around the entirety of the forearm like a snake would constrict a small animal.
“Your teeth,” Virgil raised himself up into a stand, before pushing the dragon’s snout away from him—an action which earned a displeased rumbling low in the dragon’s throat. “Shut up for a minute and listen to me.”
He knelt down beside the injured limb again and grabbed a hold of the uninjured part to keep the dragon from moving it. Virgil put all of his weight into keeping it steady, even as the large lizard looked down at him with contempt. Of course, even though Virgil was putting everything into keeping it at bay, the dragon could still very easily shake the human off and move on with its day, but he was being listened to.
His hand stung at the movements, but he shifted so he was instead sitting on the forearm instead of leaning on it. “I couldn’t get it all off quick enough because it’s stuck and tied around,” he motioned to the barbed wires winding around the limb with a motion of his uninjured hand. “If you stopped fighting me for once, I can help cut the rest and pull it out afterward. I’m just going to need you to use your teeth.”
The dragon scrunched its snout, shaking its head and focusing its attention on something other than the stubborn prince and the sharp barbs digging into it.
Virgil groaned. “Stop acting like a big whiny overgrown baby, and listen to me.” Insulting the beast probably wasn’t his best idea, but the sharp words got its attention. Virgil slid his hand under the loosened part of the trap before lifting it up enough and holding it out. “Bite through it.”
The dragon gave him a look that practically said ‘you bite through it.’
The human clenched his jaw. “I can’t,” he said in retaliation, “my teeth aren’t sharp enough to bite through wire. If you want to get out, you have to trust me.”
After what seemed like forever, and the great creature debating the prince’s trustworthiness (which was fair enough, Virgil could understand the hesitation when trusting him), the dragon finally relented. It leaned down and opened its jaw enough to bare sharp teeth. Virgil’s heart jumped into his throat, realizing his vulnerable position a heartbeat too late. Just as easily as he had held all the cards, their places were swapped just as quickly.
He held the wire up as far as he could without it tugging painfully on the dragon’s foreleg, and leaned back in precaution. His wrist was thinner than a lot of those sharp teeth and, if the dragon so wished, could take his hand off without a single thought. However, the dragon took the wire impossibly gently and without taking his hand off, too. Relieved, the prince watched as the wire snapped like thread between those powerful jaws.
The wire loosened around the rest of the limb slightly in response. Feeling as if they were finally getting somewhere, Virgil fingered around more of the wire and found another place that was loose enough to lift.
They repeated the motions a couple more times, before the wires were loose enough to tug on. It was still going to be painful for the dragon, since he needed to get the barbs out, but after that, they would be home free.
Standing up, Virgil circled around the injury before accepting the loosened wire into his uninjured hand. “This is going to hurt,” he told the dragon, watching its expression. After a moment, he received another nod of approval.
As soon as he had gotten the go ahead, Virgil pulled on the wire as hard as he could. The dragon’s claws dug into the ground surrounding it. The prince had to lean most of his weight into getting it to finally budge, but after a few more agonizing moments of yanking, the barbs finally came loose with a wet shlup.
The prince gasped in surprise, tripping backward just as the dragon yelped, loudly vocalizing its pain once more. Virgil braced against the ground, protecting his injured hand by curling it into his chest. He hit the ground hard enough that his elbow stung, his shoulder ached and his ears rang.
The discarded wire trap laid off to the side, covered in fresh and dry blood, showing how much time they had spent trying to find a way out of it. His gaze shifted as the dragon pushed itself into a stand, great red wings spreading out wide enough to hide the night sky. The dragon tentatively tested its hurt limb before focusing its attention on the prince on the ground.
Virgil had almost forgotten how big and intimidating the creature could be. The initial terror he had felt at being kidnapped rushed back when it began to limp over to him, only to loom over the human, absolutely swallowing him in its shadow.
He felt the beginning of panic raising in his chest, worried that the dragon was upset with him. To be fair, the only reason Virgil was even able to help was because he had been planning to escape. He was sure the dragon knew that and had possibly been waiting for the best time to retaliate.
When the dragon leaned down, Virgil twitched away from it on instinct, turning his head away just in case it was preparing itself to injure him further. He was genuinely surprised when nothing happened. Was he not going to be punished for his escape attempt?
Instead, the dragon only trilled at him, a soft chirping sound showing true concern.
Virgil’s shoulders relaxed after a moment, more so when the dragon nudged him gently with its snout, prompting the prince to look at it with wide eyes. “You’re… not upset I tried to leave?”
The dragon gave him a forlorn look, but it didn’t seem angry. It shook its head in answer, before leaning down and so very carefully nudging at the prince’s hand—the one wrapped in makeshift and bloody bandages. In all honesty, Virgil had forgotten he was hurt in the blind terror he was going to be hurt worse.
He held up the injured appendage, looking at it briefly as if it held any answers, before sighing in surrender. “You have cloth in your hoard, right?” He said, the dragon looking somewhat surprised at the question, before nodding its head in answer. The prince smiled mirthlessly. “Good,” he then said, moving so he was sitting up in a cross-legged position, his hands resting on his knees. “I’m going to need it. Besides, we should probably bandage you as well.”
The look he was getting wasn’t exactly something Virgil had expected, but it did surprise him. The dragon almost looked apologetic, in its own way, as if trying to express its feelings without being able to form human sentences. At least, human enough for Virgil to understand. He could pick up on hints, but sometimes being verbally told something was nicer than guessing for himself. It was all just one big guessing game with the fire breathing creature.
“What?” He finally said. “It’s not like you can do it yourself. Your big nose would get in the way.”
The dragon snorted at him, as if offended. However, that little jab didn’t hold the dragon’s attention very long, it instead nodded its head in the direction where civilization allegedly laid.
Virgil glanced over his shoulder, as if he would see lanterns bobbing in the darkness between the trees, the sound of armour and swords and shields. He didn’t know why the hope in him fluttered like it did, but he was rewarded with nothing but the same inky and pressing void of night as before.
He shook his head, defeat clear in his shoulders. “I wouldn’t make it far like this,” he told the dragon, staring down at the bloody bandage. “Especially not in the pitch dark. Honestly? The safest option is to go back with you.”
As insane as that statement was. Just the realization that going back to a dragon’s cave would be safer than trying to brave his way through the dark night. He’d rather stay the night in an overly warm cave with an overgrown lizard than fight off bears and wolves and whatever else laid in wait in the thick line of trees.
“Well, come on,” Virgil said, pushing himself up into a stand. He brushed his pants off before looking to the dragon expectantly. “I’m not going to walk back to your cave.”
The dragon made a low thrumming noise, the crimson eyes watching him curiously. As if it was seeing the prince in a whole new light. It seemed to brush the thoughts off a moment later and moved up onto its hind legs after a moment. The great beast checked their surroundings, before leaning down a bit further, nearly putting its neck directly against the forest floor.
It took Virgil a moment to realize what exactly the dragon was asking of him. Since its front limb was injured, it wouldn’t be able to carry him the same way it had when he’d been lifted out of the castle gardens.
He took one more glance down at his hand, scoffing as if he didn’t believe what he was about to do.
Virgil stepped up to the dragon and reached his good hand out. He found a handhold just above where the dragon’s wing connected to it’s back and he heaved himself up as best as he could one-handed. Even after he was up on the creature, it took another moment of adjusting before he actually felt comfortable enough where he was.
To be completely fair, Virgil was never sure he would ever be comfortable being on the back of a creature that was written about, mostly in tales of burning villages and kidnapping princes, while stashing gold in their hoards. The only reason he had been willing enough to try with this one particular dragon, was because it could have eaten him on countless different occasions and it almost always refused to even bare its teeth in a snarl at him.
This dragon was odd. He wished he knew why, but that was probably going to remain a mystery. However, if Virgil ever had the chance to understand the creature—really, truly understand it word for word—he would have so, so many questions.
The dragon rolled its shoulders and the prince was pulled right back from his wandering thoughts, and stood up to its entire height. Virgil could see a little further into the darkness then before, the higher up on the treeline. Just not enough to really see over the tops of them. The wings spread out beside him and the human royal ducked down the slightest bit closer to the dragon’s smooth spine.
The scales were cool beneath his touch, but shimmered dully in the moonlight.
One powerful beat of its great wings later and they were off the ground. Virgil squeezed his eyes shut in surprised, his shoulders pulled right up. He was wound tight as a spring. The cold air surprised him as they rose higher and higher into the night.
Once he found himself opening his eyes, the sight itself was astonishing. The inky darkness was no longer so suffocating. It felt like the stars were right at his fingertips and ahead, the further he looked, he could just barely make out the outline of the walls leading to his kingdom.
Virgil felt a rush of mixed emotions at the realization that they were so close and yet so far. Walking by himself would take ages. Getting back home would be impossible without the dragon’s assistance.
Though, he knew he couldn’t linger in those thoughts. Instead, he leaned back as much as he dared and let out a breath. Taking in the fresh air that stung his lungs like tiny daggers of ice. While this was completely out of the ordinary, there was just something so exhilarating about being so high up– not to mention getting to be that high up by being on the back of an incredible creature that was always told to be evil.
This was the same creature that people whispered about, told children horror stories. Dragons were the creatures of nightmares for countless people. All save for one.
In the dark of the night, in the cold air of autumn and impossibly high off the ground, Virgil laughed. The sudden sound even surprised himself, but he couldn’t stop the second one that bubbled up. Nor could he stop the third and the fourth. Not long after the sounds of joy, he could feel the dragon vibrating. It almost felt as though the creature itself was purring, showing there was contentment with it as well.
“What my brother would give to be here right now,” Virgil called over the whipping wind, the dragon showed it was listening by turning it’s head just enough.
The stinging of his hand faded into a numbness as the wind chilled it. He didn’t care.
No one would ever believe him if he ever got back to the kingdom.
