Another laugh, louder than the previous, "YOUR BRAVERY ASTOUNDS, THOUGH PERHAPS IT IS STUPIDITY. SEE HOW YOUR FELLOWS FLEE AT THE SIGHT OF ME?" Hanna's tail, not aware of Maurice being there, lashes out behind him, almost beaming him in the face, curling around a bottle on the work table. It was a wonder it hadn't fallen over.
"HAVE YOUR PRINCE, AND LET IT BE KNOWN HE AT LEAST ATTEMPTED COMBAT, AND DID NOT SHAME HIMSELF AS YOUR MEN HAVE, SIR KNIGHT," The illusion tossed the bottle to the general, filled with ash, dark eyes narrowing, snarling to the man who's armor rattled from his shaking.
"NOW LEAVE, AND SHOULD I HEAR OF YOUR INTENT TO RETURN I SHALL COME LIKE A PLAGUE ON YOUR FIELDS AND BURN ALL IN YOUR KINGDOM, DOWN TO THE LAST CHILD!" While that was definitely an empty threat on Hanna's part, he doubted that anyone would try the illusion he had conjured and test whether or not it would be true to it's word.
The general quaked, the helmet obscuring his face. A thousand thoughts flew through his mind as the beast boomed and lectured and perhaps, a little like Maurice, his eyes were opened. If only a little. Hanna had been the one to speak first this time around and if his words and appearance were anything to go by, the general feared that they'd sent the youngest prince of Gallus galloping straight into a mouth of Hell instead of some lowly lizard's keep. This was no dragon!
It was a devil.
Maurice barely restrained a yelp as the tail swung overhead. He fell to his knees and found that was a much safer position. He was careful to keep his elbows away from the runes. He lifted his head though when Hanna spoke up and actually said something nice about him. He'd thought he'd shamed himself pretty good from all the screaming and crying and groveling...but he'd take it! He rubbed his scruffy, ink-splotched chin again at the thought.
The general stumbled forward to catch the bottle out of reflex before realizing the gravity of what he was holding. He pushed his visor up long enough to be sure of what he was seeing. His face was white and long and tear-streaked. No! He was suddenly jerked off his feet. The man who'd been trampled when the four horses bolted had righted himself and was now making off with the general's horse. The general's gauntlet was caught in the reigns.
As he was dragged away in a cloud of dust he shouted something threatening at the devil but it was swallowed up in the roar of hooves.
And for a moment everything was still.
"WAIT!" Maurice burst from the cave, flailing blindly in the sunlight after being cooped up in darkness for so long. He fell flat on his face, suddenly feeling stupid and wretched. Why had he ran after them? They got their bottle. They were never coming back. And they were awful. Awful murderers who would still see a beast no matter how articulately his new employer reasoned with them or how gracefully he drew. The prince pushed himself up on his elbows and puffed his hair out of his face. "I don't know what I was thinking..."
He turned to mumble an apology, but there, towering over him, was a beast from his own worst nightmares. The prince couldn't even scream.
Hanna stood quiet as the knights rode off, surprised when Maurice ran after them for that short moment, though he didn't go far. A moment sooner and he could have ruined the whole show.
" WHAT ARE Y-OH...JUST A SEcond. There we go. Heavens, I sounded ridiculous." He spoke, though the booming voice was gone, the illusion of the giant dragon was not.
"Did you think that I was scaring them with just my usual visage? That would be rather pathetic, don't you think?" He asks casually, the illusion now lifting a claw and inspecting each sharp nail individually. "Do you like it? Impressive, no?"
Maurice felt his teeth rattling in his head. If Hanna had put on this show when he first came tromping up to his door, he would be in the next kingdom by now on foot alone. At first he didn't know what to say. He didn't want to grovel and lose that little compliment that Hanna gave him with or without him knowing.
So he swallowed and nodded like a puppet. He stole a glance over the cliff. The horsemen were just a cloud of dust now, hardly horse shaped at all. Which meant...they didn't bother looking for Sally! His heart leaped for a moment. Maybe, just maybe he could take care of her out here!
All on his own.
Maurice slowly stood up and held his head with one hand. He felt dizzy all over again. The sun had dangled right in front of him on a strand of spider's silk and he hadn't grabbed it. He felt strangely helpless and free at the same time. Lost but independent. And hungry. Mostly hungry.
"I guess...I guess that's it then?" He was officially a dead man being carried home in a bottle. The prince fumbled with the hem of one glove. "You were right...I don't think I even smelled burnt horse hair." He then made a face and pinched his brow. "I smelled something though..."
"I told you I would handle it. I have far more tricks up my sleeve than you give me credit for." With the illusion still in place, he felt rather full of himself, though at the mention of something smelling though, the big dragon blinked it's eyes and there was the sound of scraping, and suddenly pink exploded from it's smug, dagger teeth face, Hanna loping over to the remains of his herb garden, which was mostly just ash now.
"MY BABIES!" He wailed, having been growing his collection for quite some time. They helped in potions of all kinds, but now...now they would just be soot on the ground. "No! I didn't mean to sacrifice you for the prince! I loved you so much!" Excuse the dragon as he mourns his plants. He was rather attached, seeing as it is rather had for a dragon to grow much of anything green. So much time and devotion...
The prince heaved a little sigh and nodded. The dragon was right. He still worried though...once his mother found out what happened, who knew if even a threat from a devil would keep her from seeking revenge?
Or would she be glad such a poor fighter had been picked off the family tree?
These thoughts were interrupted by Hanna flinging himself upon his ashy garden. The dragon started making a sound that Maurice had yet to hear from him. The beast made all kinds of snorts and croaks and growls but spoke just as well as a man...and this was probably the most human sound of all. The prince wasn't sure how to feel. At first he hesitated but eventually found himself sidling up to Hanna anyway to lean and look at the damage.
If he'd still had his crown he would have taken it off.
Again his sleepless state clouded his head and after a long awkward silence he dared to reach out with a gloved hand and pat the pink monster's side. "They'll...they'll grow back."
Hanna turned his head, sad looking, and blinked at Maurice with big, blue eyes. He was so sad. "T-they're just ash now! I have to buy all new shoots, and replant them...and I am a horrible gardener!"
He looks so sad, sooooo sad, and maybe, a little bit of hope, "You....you can garden, can't you?"
Maurice recoiled. Oh no. That look almost hurt more than the nasty words Hanna had spat at him over dinner the previous night. He couldn't take those sad little ears. And what made it worse was that he couldn't give the dragon the answer he wanted.
Instead of saying it out loud, he just looked sadly at what he could see of his boots.
In all his years, Maurice had never seen anyone or anybeast so upset over dead plants. Now that he's thought about it, this might actually have been the first time he'd seen a garden up close in person. With his employer in such a sorry state, he couldn't help but comply.
The optimism he was beating into himself disappeared momentarily for disapproval.
"You introduced yourself to me when you were trying to kill me, so I didn't think that deserved an introduction from myself. But, you know. You could just as me what my name is."
Maurice cringed again. He did that a lot, he found, in the dragon's presence. Maybe it would get easier. He'd seen the dragon cry over dead plants after all and there was no taking that back.
He fumbled with his gloves again but refused to look away. "Before this morning I didn't know you had one...I mean." He looked around. "It's not like you have a mailbox..."
Yes, he was serious.
The prince coughed and raked his hair out of his face. He was sorely missing his royal bathtub. "What do you want me to call you?"
Hanna raises an eyebrow. "Who, perchance...Sends mail to a dragon, my lord?" He really has to wonder, because he hasn't really ever gotten mail, and he's sure he never will.
"And just because there is no one around to name me, doesn't mean I don't have a name. Your horse has a name, and my parents gave me a name, just like yours did." Irritably, he rises from his mourning, tail flicking back and forth. "So, my name, is Hannacross, but you can just call me Hanna."
Maurice was fast to throw his arms up in a shrug. He'd only just learned dragons kept entire hoards of scrolls! Maybe he subscribed to Mage Monthly? Playdragon? He didn't know!
The prince made a face. Hanna's not a dragon's name! But...well. Who said? He also quickly added 'dragons have parents' to his ever growing list of Things He Did Not Know About Dragons.
"Okay...Mr. Hanna." It sounded weird after three long days of just calling him Dragon and several other rude names that he'd been smart enough not to say out loud. He couldn't stop himself from adding an honorific. This dragon was his boss and his landlord. "I introduced myself to you as a Prince of Gallus...but I don't think that's the case anymore...since I'm ashes and all now."
He glanced at the mess of horse tracks scattered across the dragon's entry way.
"Just Hanna," He corrects, heading back into the cave to start to remove the runes on the mouth of the cave, "And you aren't nobody from nowhere. You're my apprentice of sorts, which is a rather honorable position if you've ever been around to older countries." His mother used to tell him of some that worshipped dragons, but most of those places were long gone.
"And speaking of...you look a little worse for wear. What's happened to you?" He gives Maurice a good look over while he starts to scratch the runes off the walls and floor, dust falling. It was a very good thing that the cave was so thick, or else it wouldn't last so long with the runes he's has to carve into it. "You looked so proper when you arrived..."
Just Hanna...how strange. But he'd seen stranger. Maurice followed him and hugged his arms to his chest as he considered his new lot in life. The Queen's men disappearing in the dust cloud had finally made it real. There was no going back now. He nearly bumped into Hanna when the dragon stopped to clear away his morning's work.
"An apprentice..? I thought I was just a maid." He certainly wasn't going to complain because that sounded much nicer to him. But then his sorry state came up and the prince dared frown at the dragon. Was he mocking him or honestly clueless? He was a naked beast after all, no matter how well furnished his home was. "It's hard to find time to clean up when I'm being worked to the bone...is there a river nearby? That's what outdoorsy type people use, isn't it?"
"I have no use for a maid. A maid cleans, they do not write. Or alphabetize." Finishing his work, he looked down at his human and sighed, not sure what to say.
"I never said you had to work yourself to death. I asked you to write, but you don't seem to know what breaks are, unless you fall asleep on your work and don't do it at all." He comments, well aware that he had been sleeping the other day once he had come in with the hand print of ink on his face, "And there is a lake that is rather secluded. I can take you there if you'd like."
It was slowly becoming almost infuriatingly clear that he'd been denied such basic things simply because he hadn't asked. The prince opened his mouth to explain that their castle servants rarely got breaks but he didn't want Hanna to dislike him for his family any more than he felt he already did. And also because Maurice had assumed Hanna might eat him if he didn't work until the dragon relieved him. That wasn't a concern now, was it?
Maurice's life had become very, very strange.
So he shut his mouth before saying, "Please?" Another thought. "Soap?"
What else might he get by being bold enough to ask? Only time would tell.
"I....Am not sure if I have any. I can't exactly use it." He returns, though he holds up a claw as a signal to wait and goes to search, looking through potions. He comes up with one, returning after putting quite a few in a separate bag for Maurice to carry, "Here, does this suit you?"
It was sweet smelling, but also a little earthy, like herbs and apples, perhaps? Maybe pear. "It's not exactly soap, but it don't harm you, and it smells good." Which he figures is good enough. Dragons only really need their claws and teeth to clean themselves, or at least his scaley breed do. "Did you need anything else?"
The dragon's apprentice waited where he was told, and when Hanna returned, he accepted the potion with a furrowed brow.
He'd never held a potion before and warily he brought it close to his nose to sniff. It was nice! Probably the nicest thing he'd smelled since Hanna's weird cinnamon breath. Which he was not going to comment on.
"Did you make this?" Maurice didn't bother hiding his awe. He took the bag and could only wonder what on Earth this dragon was making all these potions and spells for. Was he bored? Was he working toward some grander plan? Was someone paying him? That would be silly. No sane man would approach a dragon like the town baker with a catering order! Whatever it was, he was thankful because now he could finally get rid of the stench of the road and the ink stains all over him. He could only hope a good scrub against some rocks would get some of the ink out of his new clothes.
He rubbed his chin and dared to ask more. "That brush and mirror you promised..."
"I did! That's what I do, among other things." He thinks a moment about where he actually put that brush and mirror, leaving the room to go find it again, and returns with the items, holding them out for Maurice as well.
It was redundant at this point, but that sure as hell didn't stop Maurice from saying, "I never imagined..."
He never imagined a lot of things.
But with all his bath thangs in tow, he beamed tiredly up at his keeper, all kinds of ready to not be disgusting anymore. That prospect alone was enough to keep his spoiled attitude at bay. And then he wanted to sleep. He'd never gone so long without sleep in his entire life, not even when he'd been sick as a child.
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theattic2014-11-09 08:06 pm
no subject
"HAVE YOUR PRINCE, AND LET IT BE KNOWN HE AT LEAST ATTEMPTED COMBAT, AND DID NOT SHAME HIMSELF AS YOUR MEN HAVE, SIR KNIGHT," The illusion tossed the bottle to the general, filled with ash, dark eyes narrowing, snarling to the man who's armor rattled from his shaking.
"NOW LEAVE, AND SHOULD I HEAR OF YOUR INTENT TO RETURN I SHALL COME LIKE A PLAGUE ON YOUR FIELDS AND BURN ALL IN YOUR KINGDOM, DOWN TO THE LAST CHILD!" While that was definitely an empty threat on Hanna's part, he doubted that anyone would try the illusion he had conjured and test whether or not it would be true to it's word.
no subject
It was a devil.
Maurice barely restrained a yelp as the tail swung overhead. He fell to his knees and found that was a much safer position. He was careful to keep his elbows away from the runes. He lifted his head though when Hanna spoke up and actually said something nice about him. He'd thought he'd shamed himself pretty good from all the screaming and crying and groveling...but he'd take it! He rubbed his scruffy, ink-splotched chin again at the thought.
The general stumbled forward to catch the bottle out of reflex before realizing the gravity of what he was holding. He pushed his visor up long enough to be sure of what he was seeing. His face was white and long and tear-streaked. No! He was suddenly jerked off his feet. The man who'd been trampled when the four horses bolted had righted himself and was now making off with the general's horse. The general's gauntlet was caught in the reigns.
As he was dragged away in a cloud of dust he shouted something threatening at the devil but it was swallowed up in the roar of hooves.
And for a moment everything was still.
"WAIT!" Maurice burst from the cave, flailing blindly in the sunlight after being cooped up in darkness for so long. He fell flat on his face, suddenly feeling stupid and wretched. Why had he ran after them? They got their bottle. They were never coming back. And they were awful. Awful murderers who would still see a beast no matter how articulately his new employer reasoned with them or how gracefully he drew. The prince pushed himself up on his elbows and puffed his hair out of his face. "I don't know what I was thinking..."
He turned to mumble an apology, but there, towering over him, was a beast from his own worst nightmares. The prince couldn't even scream.
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" WHAT ARE Y-OH...JUST A SEcond. There we go. Heavens, I sounded ridiculous." He spoke, though the booming voice was gone, the illusion of the giant dragon was not.
"Did you think that I was scaring them with just my usual visage? That would be rather pathetic, don't you think?" He asks casually, the illusion now lifting a claw and inspecting each sharp nail individually. "Do you like it? Impressive, no?"
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So he swallowed and nodded like a puppet. He stole a glance over the cliff. The horsemen were just a cloud of dust now, hardly horse shaped at all. Which meant...they didn't bother looking for Sally! His heart leaped for a moment. Maybe, just maybe he could take care of her out here!
All on his own.
Maurice slowly stood up and held his head with one hand. He felt dizzy all over again. The sun had dangled right in front of him on a strand of spider's silk and he hadn't grabbed it. He felt strangely helpless and free at the same time. Lost but independent. And hungry. Mostly hungry.
"I guess...I guess that's it then?" He was officially a dead man being carried home in a bottle. The prince fumbled with the hem of one glove. "You were right...I don't think I even smelled burnt horse hair." He then made a face and pinched his brow. "I smelled something though..."
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"MY BABIES!" He wailed, having been growing his collection for quite some time. They helped in potions of all kinds, but now...now they would just be soot on the ground. "No! I didn't mean to sacrifice you for the prince! I loved you so much!" Excuse the dragon as he mourns his plants. He was rather attached, seeing as it is rather had for a dragon to grow much of anything green. So much time and devotion...
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Or would she be glad such a poor fighter had been picked off the family tree?
These thoughts were interrupted by Hanna flinging himself upon his ashy garden. The dragon started making a sound that Maurice had yet to hear from him. The beast made all kinds of snorts and croaks and growls but spoke just as well as a man...and this was probably the most human sound of all. The prince wasn't sure how to feel. At first he hesitated but eventually found himself sidling up to Hanna anyway to lean and look at the damage.
If he'd still had his crown he would have taken it off.
Again his sleepless state clouded his head and after a long awkward silence he dared to reach out with a gloved hand and pat the pink monster's side. "They'll...they'll grow back."
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He looks so sad, sooooo sad, and maybe, a little bit of hope, "You....you can garden, can't you?"
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Instead of saying it out loud, he just looked sadly at what he could see of his boots.
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"I can teach you. We can fix it. And they'll be happy again...and I can make my potions still."
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"I'll try, Dragoouuurrssir. I'll try, sir."
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"You introduced yourself to me when you were trying to kill me, so I didn't think that deserved an introduction from myself. But, you know. You could just as me what my name is."
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He fumbled with his gloves again but refused to look away. "Before this morning I didn't know you had one...I mean." He looked around. "It's not like you have a mailbox..."
Yes, he was serious.
The prince coughed and raked his hair out of his face. He was sorely missing his royal bathtub. "What do you want me to call you?"
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"And just because there is no one around to name me, doesn't mean I don't have a name. Your horse has a name, and my parents gave me a name, just like yours did." Irritably, he rises from his mourning, tail flicking back and forth. "So, my name, is Hannacross, but you can just call me Hanna."
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The prince made a face. Hanna's not a dragon's name! But...well. Who said? He also quickly added 'dragons have parents' to his ever growing list of Things He Did Not Know About Dragons.
"Okay...Mr. Hanna." It sounded weird after three long days of just calling him Dragon and several other rude names that he'd been smart enough not to say out loud. He couldn't stop himself from adding an honorific. This dragon was his boss and his landlord. "I introduced myself to you as a Prince of Gallus...but I don't think that's the case anymore...since I'm ashes and all now."
He glanced at the mess of horse tracks scattered across the dragon's entry way.
"It's just Maurice. Nobody of Nowhere."
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"And speaking of...you look a little worse for wear. What's happened to you?" He gives Maurice a good look over while he starts to scratch the runes off the walls and floor, dust falling. It was a very good thing that the cave was so thick, or else it wouldn't last so long with the runes he's has to carve into it. "You looked so proper when you arrived..."
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"An apprentice..? I thought I was just a maid." He certainly wasn't going to complain because that sounded much nicer to him. But then his sorry state came up and the prince dared frown at the dragon. Was he mocking him or honestly clueless? He was a naked beast after all, no matter how well furnished his home was. "It's hard to find time to clean up when I'm being worked to the bone...is there a river nearby? That's what outdoorsy type people use, isn't it?"
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"I never said you had to work yourself to death. I asked you to write, but you don't seem to know what breaks are, unless you fall asleep on your work and don't do it at all." He comments, well aware that he had been sleeping the other day once he had come in with the hand print of ink on his face, "And there is a lake that is rather secluded. I can take you there if you'd like."
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Maurice's life had become very, very strange.
So he shut his mouth before saying, "Please?" Another thought. "Soap?"
What else might he get by being bold enough to ask? Only time would tell.
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It was sweet smelling, but also a little earthy, like herbs and apples, perhaps? Maybe pear. "It's not exactly soap, but it don't harm you, and it smells good." Which he figures is good enough. Dragons only really need their claws and teeth to clean themselves, or at least his scaley breed do. "Did you need anything else?"
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He'd never held a potion before and warily he brought it close to his nose to sniff. It was nice! Probably the nicest thing he'd smelled since Hanna's weird cinnamon breath. Which he was not going to comment on.
"Did you make this?" Maurice didn't bother hiding his awe. He took the bag and could only wonder what on Earth this dragon was making all these potions and spells for. Was he bored? Was he working toward some grander plan? Was someone paying him? That would be silly. No sane man would approach a dragon like the town baker with a catering order! Whatever it was, he was thankful because now he could finally get rid of the stench of the road and the ink stains all over him. He could only hope a good scrub against some rocks would get some of the ink out of his new clothes.
He rubbed his chin and dared to ask more. "That brush and mirror you promised..."
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"Alright, if that's all settled, we ready to go?"
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He never imagined a lot of things.
But with all his bath thangs in tow, he beamed tiredly up at his keeper, all kinds of ready to not be disgusting anymore. That prospect alone was enough to keep his spoiled attitude at bay. And then he wanted to sleep. He'd never gone so long without sleep in his entire life, not even when he'd been sick as a child.