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A Sacrificial Game

King!Dragon x Reader

This is my first post since deciding to kick off this new account. It’s rewritten from an old story I had posted on here long ago once upon a time. I hope you enjoy~

CW: ♢ Mention of Near Drowning ♢ Blood/Injury ♢ Abduction ♢

The coos of morning doves and the gentle brushing of branches against your bedroom window were quickly drowned out by the boisterous laughter and squabbling of your many siblings. Your attempt at trying to drown them out via the trusty quilt-over-head technique was quickly plundered as they burst through your sacred doorway. With energy only children can manage to conjure from the depths of hell at 8 in the morning, they jostled you around roughly, stealing away the comforting warmth you'd had. Surely, you'd thought, this was an act of merciless torture. Your skin prickled with goosebumps and, irritably, you managed to croak out a yip. "Ow! Off!" Your anger did nothing more than make them giggle as they lightly bruised you with their rough play. "Lemme sleep, dammit! Off! Get off!" Taking evident joy out of your misery, the damn gremlins only gave you a round of smug looks. They did relent, however it was truthfully only to avoid your flailing swats at their heads. “Momma said we ain’t eatin’ breakfast till you get up. So get up lazy" A chorus of agreements and more jostling only drew a strong eye roll from you. But, nevertheless, you shooed them off and sat up, groggily rubbing the sleep from your eyes.

Normally they'd just eat without you, leaving the leftovers warmed in the oven to be picked at by whoever passed by, but today was a special occasion. It was your birthday. Normally birthdays were happy events full of gifts, smiles, and all things merry-making-- but this one was different. While the younger whelps scurried off to the old wooden table, none the wiser to the fate that you now had to face, a heavy weight hung over the heads of the adults in the house. The thickness of the air palpable as you stepped into the kitchen and saw the grim look on your mother's face.

The saying goes that a starving savage is less likely to ravage your home if you give it a single meal-- and such began the gruesome, superstitious tradition... Once a year, one unlucky village that bordered the human kingdom would be chosen to place the names of all it's unmarried, of-age residents into a box and perform a drawing. Whichever sorry soul was picked would be ripped away from their homes by the temple, never to be seen again. The nobility liked to call it one of the "highest of all honors" a commoner could receive. The common people? You call it human sacrifice.

At least, most of your people do. Despite that being so, the vast majority of the population feared the very notion of abandoning the ritual. Why? Because the entire purpose was to "sate the otherfolk's thirst for human blood." One sacrifice, one year free from their wrath.

Your skin crawled at the very idea of it all as you leant down, clumsy hands tying up the laces of your worn leather boots.

As a child, you believed every word that hung off of the elders' tongues down near the pub. The fascination and wonder of another terrifying world outside the kingdom's tall, stone walls ignited your naive little heart. But with age, it grew evident to you that they were no more than simple old widows and drunkards with nothing better to do with their remaining time than talk stories and scare little children with tall tales. How were you supposed to believe beasts, much less entire civilizations of them, would be satisfied by the blood of one person if they truly wanted to attack a meager village, much less an entire country? Who decided they even wanted that blood? It was an argument you’d tried to raise countless times with your village council only to have it shot down with a simple “Well the Chosen never return, do they?” It pissed you off to no end. It didn't even take two wrinkles in the brain to conclude that it was more likely the animals of the woods, the elements-- or worse, other humans that caused the sacrificed to meet their demise; but no point you made would ever change their stone cold hearts.

And as though your age wasn't enough to make this birthday sour, the drawing was to be held this evening. The irony of someone losing their life on the day of your birth was palpable. Taking your usual chair at the kitchen table, you noticed the way two of your brothers squabbled over the last roll. With spiteful retaliation, you plucked it from between them taking a slow, mocking bite right in front of their faces. Maybe next time they'd think twice before ganging up to practically assault you out of bed.

"(y/n)?" Your head snapped up to attention, meeting your father's gaze. "How are you feeling?" You swallowed the fluffy bread quickly shooting a quiet reply. "I'm alright. Would feel a little better if you guys would stop lookin at me like I'm headed to the gallows." The laugh you were awarded from him was dry, but it eased some of the tension in his weathered shoulders nonetheless.

"I suppose it is a bit stuffy in here for a birthday, huh?" Your mother piped up sheepishly, wiping her hands on the dishtowel that hung from a belt on her hip. "Say, why don't you go visit Alikar? Trade some of our tomatoes for a basket of peaches-- bring those back and I'll make a pie we can all have after the drawing, how does that sound?" The little heads in the room visibly perked at the idea of getting their grubby little paws on something sweet. It wasn't often you had the sugar for such things after all.

Dismissing the idea of having to attend the black box event, you gave her a gentle nod. "Sure, I can do that. Need anything else while I'm out?" You inquired, stuffing the rest of the bread into your mouth before your youngest brother could snatch it from your hand. "No, dear. Just finish your breakfast and we'll handle the rest."

After practically beating your siblings off the table with a stick to get your fill, you quickly washed up and plucked the basket from the floor. “I’m off!” You called, getting no discernible acknowledgement as the chaos in the house never ceased. No matter to you-- the pie would be well worth the trip ahead.

Uncle Alikar.

The man was a huge part of the reason you didn’t believe a lick of all that ‘savage otherfolk’ nonsense. As your feet scuffed along the well worn path, old memories bubbled up to the surface like froth from the babbling brook that ran beside you.

You were the eldest of your siblings which, consequently, meant that when you'd been a rumbling little runt there were no older kids to show you the ropes and your parents' first trial run at raising a whole little person. This always resulted in you tumbling headfirst into trouble, but one day it had gone a little too far. Your tiny body approached the ledge of the stream. The same edge you would use every summer to hunt tadpoles. But, unbeknownst to you, the soil that was far too saturated with yesterday's rain to hold your weight. Without warning, it crumbled beneath your little feet sending you hurtling down into the rushing waters below. The merciless current carried you faster downstream than your father could run and just when your little head was wrenched under the raging current, a large beast sprung into the water after you. Before you could even process what had happened, your little lungs were hacking up the water they're inhaled, the coughing doing little for the burn in your lungs.

At first it was all a blur, you could hear your parents shouting as well as another rumbling voice above you responding back to them. Your little legs dangling far above the ground as a muscular arm stayed firmly wrapped around your waist. Someone was... holding you? You blinked away the tears, looking up to be met with a mouth full of razor-like teeth, thick sopping wet fur, and bright, slitted eyes. Misunderstanding what was going on, you began to cry out in fear. You were absolutely terrified you were about to be eaten by the ravenous river monster your mother warned you about countless times in attempt to dissuade you from wandering near the water when they weren't watching you. Only when those large paws handed you off to your mother ever-so-gently did you begin to quiet back down "Are you alright now, sweetpea? Ol' Alikar didn't mean to spook ya. Poor thing." He was some kind of rakshasa or tabaxi, evident by the sopping tail that swayed in the water behind him and round, fluffy ears that tilted back with concern. Speaking of...

Your knuckles rapped against the wooden door, sending warm clunks into the cottage. It was a serene place far from the human village which was always surrounded by the sweet smells of fruit and scents of warm, freshly made bread. Not but a few seconds later the upper half of the door swung open and there, in all his striped glory, was Alikar himself. “There’s the birthday girl!” He greeted you, his smile full of sharp teeth. A sight that originally took some getting used to but was now synonymous with a second home. “Hey Uncle Al. Mama sent me down to get some peaches for a pie.” You raised your basket of tomatoes.

He only chuckled in reply. “Oh, I know, how else was I supposed to give you your gift?” His paw pushed the lower part of the door open, welcoming you inside-- the scent of herbs and butter wafting much stronger from within. Surprised, you could only follow dumbly after him at first, setting the basket down as you took a seat on his kitchen table.

“A gift? Since when do you have the extra funds to get me gifts?! Aren’t you saving for the wedding? What about--”

    “Would you hush, child?” He laughed, taking amusement in your fretting. “You’re still new to the whole womanhood thing, what do you know about adult troubles?” You gave a halfhearted growl at him but had no argument to fire back at him. Even though you'd been considered an adult in human standards for quite a few years, Alikar did have more experience than you in that department.

"You get onto me about my finances but I don't see you moving out of your parents' home yet." He teased, carefully unloading every piece of fruit from the wicker basket with care. "Don't bully me! I'm plenty experienced in other things!" You whined. Snatching one of the many apples he'd left unattended. The crisp sweetness did little to nurse your slightly bruised ego but the coolness of the juice as it dribbled down you chin quenched plenty other, more satisfying needs. "Yeah? And what would your area of foreign expertise be? Apple thieving?"

You glared at his back, cheeks tinting "No! Like conversation! And courting."

"Pah!" He scoffed, soft paws stacking the soft, pink fruit into a neat arrangement. "Much good your 'experience' has gotten you, I am the only one getting married here out of the two of us." Okay. Ouch. "And I converse plenty well, thank you very much!"

The afternoon passed with similar banter as you stuffed yourself with whatever fruits Alikar let you get your hands on. In the end he had given you a carefully carved wooden totem of your favorite animal, peaches, and sent you on your way. Whatever wood the little figure was made from gave a faint, sweet scent when wet with water. A bit ironic considering how you met all those years ago but you appreciated it nonetheless.

You had asked him if he’d have wanted to come and celebrate with you and your family but, regretfully, he had to decline. As charming and kind as he was, the path to your home was far too close to the village for his comfort and the idea of one of your acquaintances or friends coming to celebrate as well and reporting him sent the hairs on the back his neck straight upward. It was no secret the village wasn’t excited about strange, new creatures given the black box tradition, so it was doubtful Alikar would be in the public eye anytime soon, as unfortunate as that was…

   You didn’t realize how much time you’d wasted until the shadows began stretching longer, snuffing out much of whatever light the day had left for you. “Ah shit.” You mumbled. You'd definitely missed the drawing, and at this rate you wouldn't be able to eat sweets till the next morning. Speeding up from a mozy to a quick trot back up the hill was unpleasant to say the least, but damn if those thoughts of peach pie didn't motivated you to haul ass.

However, as you drew closer your eagerness was smothered.

Hunching down, you quickly used the cover of the thorny brush to peer out at the scene below-- The terrified cries of your siblings pierced through your chest.

“Where’s the girl?!” A man demanded, spear to your father’s throat and eyes unwavering as your mother pled, voice breaking with fear as her children clung to her skirts.

“Dunno what you’re talkin’ bout.” Your father replied curtly, looking the assailant back in the face with matching fury and anger. “I've only got sons.” The hair on the back of your neck stood up. Only once before, in your entire life, had you heard such a chilling tone come from that man. You'd been no older than 12 when a suitor equal to your mother in age offered to pay a hefty sum for your hand in marriage. The cruel chill in his voice as he sent the man away stuck with you-- but it didn't seem like this scenario would have the same outcome.

“Have it your way.”

A pit knotted itself in your breast as your family’s pleas turned to screaming cries, the spear cutting into you father's shoulder without mercy. Everything seemed to move so slowly after that...

First, you'd prayed he'd give in, relenting your location to the angry mob that surrounded him-- but your father stayed silent. That same fury in his eyes unwavering as he stayed on his feet.

Second, you though, maybe, the crowd would believe they'd truly made a mistake. Maybe a (y/n) didn't live in this village. Perhaps they'd been mistaken-- but that hope was quickly snuffed out as the spear-wielding man reeled the weapon back again, poised to strike.

You hadn't even known what you were doing as you pushed through the thorny brambles. Didn't even register as your fingers curled around a plump peach from your basket. And certainly didn't realize the strength you'd shot through your arm as you slung the fruit straight into the back of the man's head.

The hard impact followed by the splatter of sweet juices dripping down his neck was followed only by a second of silence.

Then two.

Then three.

All heads turning in your direction....

Run.

It was nothing more than instinct as you dropped the precious wicker basket your mother had weaved to the ground-- Alikar's carefully nurtured peaches bruising in the dirt. You shot back through the thorns. Dress skirt shredding, legs practically minced as you rushed through the uncaring wild.

Everything blurred.

Heart racing, the sound of shouting, the thundering of feet right on your tail. It was so much, too much-- too soon. There was no where else you could go. You didn't even know where you were going. Run. Run. RUN.

And run you did, even as your calves burned and blood dripped down your skin, you flew through the woods in a desperate flurry. It was fruitless though. Your wreckless abandon being brought to a halt with a blistering pain that shot through your ribs. The last thing you saw was the sight of the ground coming right at you, and then? Darkness.

I was going to wait till I finished part 2 to post this part but I'm too excited and part 2 is about halfway written anyway :) Stay tuned!

A Sacrificial Game 2

King!Dragon x Reader

Masterlist

p.t 1

pt. 3

Welcome to part two! I'm a very slow writer so you may notice that I posted these parts somewhat consecutively. That's bc I wrote part one last year;;; I know, I know, but I got a new keyboard and I'm obsessed with the way it feels so hopefully it will get me back into writing again! Does anyone even read these...? Gah whatever. Enjoy!

CW: ♢ Abduction ♢ Blood/Injury ♢ Mention of Forced Stripping (Brief, not done by love interest) ♢

The next time your eyes opened back up to the dreary world, a groan was involuntarily passing through your lips. Pain. Fuck. Every breath felt like you were splitting open, and as a result, moving was not a very appealing option. Your ribs, whether fractured or broken, you didn't know. But, oh, it was undeniable something was wrong.

The pain had you sweating despite the night's air being blisteringly cold-- colder than it should have been for this time of year, and the more you got your bearings, the more you were able to process what was around you.

A single, dingy lantern hung from the wooden ceiling above you. It swung wildly with every bump and jostle, the flame within it threatening to flicker out each time. The room you were in was moving, no, no room, you were in a carriage. You tried to push through the pain to get yourself up but found your movements restrained-- expensive looking silk ropes curling around your body and a simple white gown you hadn't been wearing before was now draped over your figure. Though pretty, and far more expensive than anything you'd ever owned before, it did little to ease the painful shivers that wracked through you.

You'd been washed, groomed, and redressed with care, but hot rage filled your chest nonetheless. You'd had little to nothing to your own name-- living still with your family and no claim to a spouse, child, or land.

They've stripped you of those things. Taken away your chance at a normal life, and now, too, they've taken your dignity.

A particularly rough bump in the road sent your body up and off the ground for just a moment before slamming you back into the rough wood of the floor. By the Damned... The pain left you winded as a stabbing sensation shot through your entire body.

"Are you alright?" A meek voice spoke up from above you. There, on one of the benches, a meek priest looked down at you with sad eyes full of pity. Was he also Chosen? Were you both about to meet your end? No... His hands were not bound behind his back as yours were-- instead, they freely laid folded in his lap.

Your gaze hardened and, seemingly unable to stand it, he looked away in shame. “Why are you doing this?” You asked coldly--you knew... but hope was still pushing back the dread that was steadily gathering in your gut. He didn’t answer at first, instead he simply shrunk into himself more, as if somehow he would be able to curl around himself and hide away from your accusatory eyes. “Where are we going?”

It took time for him to give you an answer. Time you, whether willingly or not, gave. The air thick with the silence between you two, only broken periodically by the groan of wheels or the creaking of the lantern above, but with your stubborn, uninterrupted glaring, he broke.

"The border that separates man from beast... you've been Chosen."

Bastards. Those bastards! What were the chances?! Did they even actually draw?!

It kind of dawned on you that... they may not have. You questioned authority often, butting heads against those who supported this horrific tradition-- many of the higher officials found your outspoken presence to be a nuisance, and with their own unmarried children to look out for..... Was it really that far of a stretch to say you'd been sacrificed in more ways than one?

"...Let me go." You demanded, and when you were met with resistance, your rage bubbled over. "Let me go this instant! Now!" Shouting hurt, but the fear and adrenaline eased your pain into fuel for your rage.

“Please don’t make this harder than it has to be.”

Harder than it has t- was he fucking kidding?

“You cruel bastard! Damn you and damn that Temple as well!”

As though the carriage had also had enough of your behavior, the jostling movement stopped. With an eerie croak, the doors swung open to reveal the drenched silhouette of gruff looking man in temple garb. If it would have been a stranger you saw, it would still have been equally terrifying, but perhaps it would have hurt a bit less.

You immediately recognized the man as Father Kyron, and a cold weight settled in your gut. The Father had watched you grow and mature since before you could walk-- often taking the time out of his day to play ball or sneak treats to the other children after services had ended. He'd always been such a warm pillar of the community, someone everyone could feel safe with. But those kind eyes that had always looked on at you before were now completely vacant of that gentle affection.

A monster was all that was left.

The rain pelted down on his leather-clad shoulders, cold droplets splattering onto you from the force of their impact. Whether or not he was a holy man of the temple, he looked nothing short of a demon in this moment.

Your screams went ignored as you fought not to be dragged out by your hair; body being dumped unceremoniously into the ground's painful embrace.

Kyron didn't spare you another glance as he once more took ahold of the reins. The priest did the same, shutting the wooden doors with a slam, snuffing out the little light the lantern within had to offer you.

The raging tides of emotions slowly simmered away as the carriage finally moved out of view, and now, instead of anger, hopelessness began to ease it's way into your veins. What could you do? You'd been abandoned. Left to lie in the dirt with only the echoing throbs in your side to keep you company.

Your screams turned to wails, then to sobs, and then to silence. And for a few moments you sat there, unable to process the shock of it all.

There's a funny thing about shock that no one tells you about. When there are plenty of important things for your mind to race through-- whether that be the betrayal of a beloved mentor figure, what would happen to your family, if your father was alright, who would tell Alikar... your mind often defaults to something insignificant; something harmless. And all you could think about were those damn peaches that had been laid together so carefully in your mother's wicker basket by Alikar's careful hand.

Had they all been trampled into the ground? Or would your family be able to salvage the last things you touched into something good and safe and warm for themselves...

Your eyes fixated on watching the way the rain thinned your blood and how it trailed down your skin to mix with the mud beneath you. The colors sickeningly seeped into the once pure white satin of your dress like the branching of a tree. The fabric feeling like it took root to your skin as it clung uncomfortably to your figure. It was a suffocating feeling and, surprisingly, was enough to bring a grimace to your face and give your mind enough clarity to realize footsteps were fast approaching where you sat.

"Here! Over here!"

"Damn it all, I knew I heard something!"

"Get the towels, the poor things soaked!"

Unknown voices made their approach accompanied by the warm, softened glow of lantern light. Though vaguely, you could make out the figures of a small group of armor-clad individuals.

Perhaps it was a bit of a cliche. The knights in shining armor coming to the maiden in distress-- but you could afford little to focus on the irony of it all. All you knew was that whomever held that lantern would be a fate far kinder than hungry animals or a slow fall to the elements.

Saved.

You were saved.

"H-Help me" Was all you could muster, the relief allowing exhaustion and weakness to finally take root in your body. Lead weights settling in your limbs and a quiver in your voice.

The closer they came, the clearer you could see them. They were guards, no doubt patrolmen assigned to protect the border, but very obviously not those of the human kingdom.

Otherfolk

Primarily shifters from what you could tell because, despite their mostly human appearances, their natural, beastly features still shown through. Large rabbit ears, a long flowing tail, wings stuck to their backs, or faces that just weren't quite arranged in the typical human fashion.

To some it would have an been off putting sight, but frankly after all the interaction you'd had with humans for the day... an inhuman face was a welcome sight.

"We've got ya, we're here to help, don't be scared." The rabbit shifter cooed, her gentle paw-like hands cupping your face sweetly as the bat's nimble fingers worked away at your bindings.

Her palms were soft and warm, the sleeves of her tunic smelling like the herbs and incense your mother often used at home. Your eyes closed as you couldn't help but lean into her comforting touch. For a moment, just a moment, the thumb swiping away your tears was not that of a stranger, but your mother. And for a moment... just a moment. You weren't shivering in the cold rain of an unknown land, but instead simply sat at the kitchen table at home waiting for peach pie on your birthday...

---

---

---

Ah. Was this death? If it was... it was peaceful. Never before had the space around you felt so soft and warm, and, faintly, there was the gentle scent of citrus in the air.... but was death supposed to be this painful?

Inhaling deeply, you winced, eyes cracking open as you moved blearily to try and sit up only to experience probably one of the most excruciating pains you'd ever felt.

"Easy! Oh, easy, my lady!" A familiar voice fretted, those same gentle hands from before supporting your weight with surprising strength against your shoulders. Carefully, she eased you back in place. "Lie down, the doctor gave strict orders for you to rest as much as possible until the healer can arrive. They aren't broken, but whomever you put up a fight against did one hell of a job on your ribs."

Your gaze fixated on the rabbit as she began to visually check you over once more with her large, rounded black eyes. She wasn't very tall, a bit below average at most, and held a very lithe figure. But despite that, she was donned with heavy, metal plated armor kept a sword neatly sheathed at her hip.

"Who.. are you?" You cringed as your voice was much rougher than expected, but who could blame you? After a night of screaming into the cold like your life depended on it, because it most certainly had, anyone's voice would have been a bit spent.

Without missing a beat, the rabbit shifter handed you a warm glass of water, which you greedily gulped down as she spoke.

"My name is Eve. I am a member of the king's guard here at the palace. I've been assigned as your personal guard, my lady." She bowed at the waist with a practiced precision, her fluffy ears tilting back so as to not land in your lap. "May I know the name of the lady I serve?"

"Hey, pause. Palace?" You full-stopped your assault on the glass of water and took your first good look at your surroundings. Sure enough, it was far from your typical healers hut or hostel.

The sheer size of the bed alone was the first thing you noticed. It was definitely made for something, or rather someone, that was far larger than you as the length of it easily extended another three or four feet past where your own legs ended. The tall, expertly carved banisters loomed over your head, supporting a canopy of heavy silks that seemed to trickle to the floor like water.

And the room

What a room it was. It was as massive as the bed with pristine, marble cut floors and high arching windows. Beautifully intricate moldings were placed all around, masterfully crafted to perfectly mirror one another. It was a chamber fit for a lady, no, a princess-- both of which you were not.

"I... don't think I'm supposed to be here." You murmured, eyes still trailing over the details of the walls that practically dripped with luxury.

Eve's ears tilted back once more, this time nervously as her tiny mouth curved into a frown. "Is the room not to your liking, my lady? I can ask to have you moved to something bigger--"

"No! Goodness no! This is more than enough! Too much, actually." You stumbled over yourself in your haste to not be fussed over to such a grand extent, which made Eve's expression falter from one of concern to confusion. "I'm not a noble," you clarified. "My name is (y/n), just (y/n)." Back home, impersonating a noble was enough to lose a limb if you were lucky-- your head if you weren't. Hopefully, if you cleared up the confusion quick enough, whoever misunderstood and brought you here would be more lenient with their anger.

"How could I dare call the future queen by her name?"

"......Pardon?" Surely you hadn't heard that right. "The what?" Was it.. the shock? Yes, the shock. It must have not worn off yet, that was all.

"The future Queen. I'm afraid it isn't my place to elaborate any further, lady (y/n), but I assure you once his Highness' meeting finishes up he will be here to speak with you himself."

So it wasn't the shock... and the king of beasts himself would be coming here, to you, like.. this?

You didn't need a mirror to know you were ill prepared to be meeting royalty. Your hair and skin still felt dirty and strange from your previous night's rather rough introduction to the ground, and your clothes... well, perhaps more accurately described as the lack thereof...

You felt your cheeks heat in a bit of embarrassment as you gently lifted the warm blankets to peer below. You still wore the underwear you'd had on before, identifiable by the stains of blood and dirt which had settled permanently in the crevices of the fabric, but what covered the rest of your torso and legs were bandages and dressings. Your cuts and bruises had been treated, rather professionally at that if the skill and quality of the supplies had anything to say about it.

But still, it was far from a dignified look.

As if reading your mind, your rabbit knight chimed in once more. "Don't worry, my lady, his Highness is an understanding and gentle ruler. He won't judge you for something like being wounded."

While it was sweet Eve was attempting to comfort you, you were less worried about appearing weak and more focused on the fact you were damn near naked-- though that was probably an idea that mattered a lot less to someone completely covered in fur... You didn't have the heart to tell her that though. Not when she was so eager to please and had that hopeful look in her eyes.

Not that you would have had the chance to anyway as, without so much as a knock, the two heavy doors to the room swung open.

Your hands moved in a flurry to gather the thick comforter up over your chest, your startled eyes locking with another's, and for a moment, the both of you paused.

He was tall, taller than any man you'd ever known, with shoulders just as broad that laid draped in a dark-stained cloak. It was still wet with rain and what you could guess was blood based off the thicker, red pigment that dripped from the bottom hem. Heavy, leathery wings sat poised behind him like two elegant, massive shields as his spear-like tail swung languidly between them. It was evident why everything here was the size it was now. He was massive. He was imposing. And he was horrifically attractive in a way no boy from your village could ever hope to compare.

He didn't need the crown or fine clothing to be identified. You could feel the authority he held in the air the moment he entered the room, and immediately upon seeing him, you understood the stories of your kingdom's best soldiers turning tail the second his taloned foot stepped onto the battle field.

Dipping your head as best you could, you quickly averted your flustered gaze and blushing face. "I greet the King of Beasts."

You'd expected a plethora of reactions. A gentle acceptance of your greeting, a roar of anger as to why someone as lowly as you laid within his palace, or even silence as he ignored you completely

What you hadn't expected was laughter. It was a deep rumble that could have shaken the cores of mountains if he'd leaned close enough.

"Is that what they call me nowadays? 'King of Beasts?' Of all things... you humans and your silly imaginations never fail to entertain."

You only felt your cheeks darken in humiliation as you lifted your head to stare at him with complete bafflement. Was that the wrong thing to say? Instead of answering your wordless query, he instead pulled up one of the oversized chairs to your beside.

"Eve," he called to your rabbit companion with a far calmer and level tone. "You're dismissed." Your guard, whom you'd momentarily forgotten in the chaos of it all, quickly scampered out and very suddenly it was just you and him left alone in the room together.

"Forgive my intrusion, this won't take long." His tone didn't flow like an apology, but more like an order or expectation that you would forgive him. It left a sour taste in your mouth and evidently an equally sour look on your face.

His eyes narrowed.

"Unless there's something you'd care to object?"

For a moment, a primal instinct surged in your gut beneath his gaze: Fear. He was the descendant of a long lived, powerful bloodline known for having the power to snuff out thousands of lives like yours. You were comparable to a meager speck of dust in his eyes, surely-- but an emotion that overtook your momentary fear was... anger.

No, it was rage. To be ripped from your home, stripped of your dignity-- your identity, thrown to the wolves, all to be mocked and disrespected and then be told to forgive them? Forgive him?

How far must you bow your head in order to save it? How much more humiliation did you have to endure for the sake some man deeming you worthy of survival?

Men in power had stripped enough away from you today, you'd be damned if you allowed this one to make you watch the last shred of self respect you had trickle through your fingers.

"I do actually. Quite a few actually."

The beast's narrowed eyes didn't ease, but he made no move to stop you.

"Well? Go on."

You took a breath, steeling the nerves that were pleading with you not to go through with what you were about to do. It was far too late to back down now. Instead, you hold his gaze.

"You laughed at my greeting, yet failed to introduce yourself. You came in without so much of a knock, not having a shred of thought towards my decency. You sent away the only person I knew, leaving yourself, a man, alone in a room with me, a woman, which shows you also have no concern for my dignity. Not to mention you're absolutely filthy covered in... who knows what. And to top it all off you don't ask me for forgive you but tell me to." You begin to falter, slowing your ramble as his slitted pupils begin to round out. "I think you're rude, and inconsiderate and..."

"And?" He urged, leaning forward a bit which only had you pressing further back into the plush pillows that had propped you up.

"And scary."

"Scary?"

At that, the towering dragon leaned back, the sturdy wood of the chair beneath him creaking with the shift in weight. "You look me in the eye, tell me what I can and can't do within my own home, in my own country, tell me all your objections about me... all while you think I'm scary?"

Unsure where this is going, you nod a bit lamely. What else could you have said?

"I see. Well. I suppose, in my haste, I have treated you a bit roughly for a lady."

"You...have." You affirmed hesitantly, your death grip on the blankets over your collarbones easing slightly.

"Then, for that, I extend you my sincerest apologies and ask that you find it in that fiery little heart to forgive me." You weren't sure if his tone was playful, mocking, or both... but it was a start.

"I'll think about forgiving you then."

"Then I'll put forth the effort to earn it. But for now, let's start from the beginning. I am King Jarkah Drak'in, ruler of the Etherian Empire. And you are?"

You had pondered giving him a false name before, but at this point there seemed little reason to it. "(Y/n). My name is (y/n)."

"(Y/n)." He repeated back to you, the gentle rumble in his voice almost bringing back that warmth to your cheeks. "I rarely hear human names so sweet on the tongue."

You tried and failed to formulate a reply to the compliment, your thoughts stuttering over themselves.

Seemingly able to see your internal struggle, Jarkah stood back up, signaling the end to your little exchange.

"As much as I'd prefer to talk further, I realize I should take your fragile circumstances into consideration, I'll postpone our conversation until I hear word that you've recovered." Was he... still mocking you? Or was that genuine consideration? It was difficult to read his reptilian features, and even more so when his back was turned to you. "Goodnight, (y/n)."

You floundered for a response but all you managed was a meager "Goodnight" as the door clicked shut softly behind him.