"I came to make sure you didn't get in trouble, and that you behaved," He returned, knowing that he might get offended, but telling the truth anyways, "Most people would follow after a new hire if they gave them money, don't you think? It was just a security measure, that and I wanted to see how you did on your own." Which translated more of just looking out for Maurice, but he doubted he young man would see it as such. "It's not often royalty has to interact with the common folk, though I could say you did just fine."
When Maurice goes to touch him though, his hand makes a solid connection, Hanna continuing to smile back him, a knowing look in his reflective eyes. "This isn't an illusion. I've shape shifted, and while it isn't perfect, it works." Though he doubts that Maurice would understand 'my essence feels cramped', but that's alright.
Hanna raises an eyebrow, "Yes? But that's your job. You're my apprentice, aren't you?" He pushes Maurice's hand away after quite a few jabs though, some irritation slipping in.
His skin wasn't thick and hard in this form, and he bruised easy, "I have human skin, you're starting to hurt me."
The prince was at the very least smart enough not to start prodding him again. Physically.
"But that doesn't make sense! Your scrolls were atrocious! Why didn't you write them in this shape to begin with?" He dragged his hands down his face. "Never mind!" It was probably some stupid DRAGON REASON. He pushed away from the wall and gazed back up at the poster of himself. His angry pout grew more solemn.
"But...you were right. I never thought I'd see an article on my own death. I never imagined news traveling this quickly beyond your mountain. Hanna, I'm afraid this might have been a mistake. What if she's planning something? You won't be safe!"
He said, to the dragon that blended in to human society without effort on a regular basis. Somehow it hadn't occurred to Maurice that several people in his home town very well may have been dragons. Hidden and forgotten and glad of it.
"That's rude. My hand writing is just fine, and I can read it." He crosses his arms and considers Maurice, shrugging. "I'm not afraid of your mother. If I have to move, then I have to move, but I'm not dying." He's too stubborn and smart for that.
And while he is in love with his horde, his life is more important and he could give it up if it came to that. "I can hide where I want to. It's all too easy."
You should be, was what he wanted to say, but it wasn't a conversation to have in public. The prince sighed again.
"It would be hard to move a garden, wouldn't it?" He found himself feeling guilty for getting distracted instead of doing his errand. Maurice eyed the poster again before reaching up and carefully peeling it off the wall. "I'm taking this. It's a good portrait of me, don't you think?"
"A garden is more important than my life," He returns, quietly, pulling his cloak back up. He didn't often show his face off in town, liking more to be a memory of cloak and shadow, instead of bright eyes and sharp teeth. He was a wizard, but most did not have features like that.
He considers the poster before Maurice takes it, nodding, "It's very...flattering." Even if it wasn't entirely accurate, but he could appreciate it.
The dragon's statement made Maurice wonder. Were gardens sacred to dragons? It would explain why Hanna cried so bitterly at the destruction of his herbs for the prince's sake. He would ask another time. He finally accepted that he would never finish learning things about dragons as long as he worked under his new employer.
He carefully rolled up the paper and stuck one end of it into Sally's saddlebag. "They got the hair right and that's the most important part." He gave his own mane a toss, endlessly thankful for the soap and river he'd been provided with.
Hanna gives Maurice a good look over and nods, appreciatively. "You do seem to take pride in it, so I suppose it's good they did." In any case, Hanna follows along, barefooted, and heads towards the nursery, thinking that perhaps Maurice would like some help finding what he wanted.
"I realized that I had left some things off the list."
He climbed into the saddle just so he could enjoy looking down on Hanna for a little while while they walked through town.
"Saves me a trip then...you were right about another thing." He leaned forward and straightened out the lock of hair between his horse's ears. "I don't know anything about interacting with these people...I might have come home with more than mud on my clothes if it weren't for you."
"Well, they aren't who you usually talk with. It's understandable, but you should try and adapt." He honestly doubts Maurice will get a chance again to be royalty, unless he waits years to come home. Who even knows. He could, it was a possibility, but that decision was all Maurice's.
"Be polite, but not too polite, and never show off that you have money, don't make scenes and keep your head down, and you'll do just fine." Desperate people make desperate moves, even if they are good people. "And always watch your back."
"That's...almost entirely backwards to what I was taught. Always wear your finest, always make eye-contact, uphold the royal reputation by using only the best manners..." He coughed a little. Maurice's manners had been far from good since he showed up on the dragon's doorstep. "It can't be that hard...it would be like...a play! Almost. That's exciting! Is that how it is for you? To be human shaped?"
"When you're in a den of lions and you're a lion yourself, then yes. Display your strength to keep others at bay. Your royal reputation is upheld by your royal army, and it can sometimes only be as strong as you are. If you don't intimidate, then someone will go for your throat, not for your knights." If he were dragon shaped, his tail would be swishing. Instead, he just walks a little more stiffly, wishing for his usual shape to help put his points in motion with gestures.
"These people are different, it's a whole other world here, and you blend in, or you stand out. I don't think you're ready for the next one so soon after your...'death'." And he'll shrug, his shoulders aching for the feel of wings. "A little bit...just, I use the 'stand out' method, but people are somewhat fearful of me, so it works."
Maurice rather liked being compared to a lion...but he wasn't sure what that made the rest of town. He raised a brow when at Hanna's apparent reputation.
"I can see that...how many people have you turned into newts?"
"Huh? Oh...none," He responds, shrugging, "You don't have to show power to be powerful." Hanna flashes a rather toothy grin at his apprentice, his eyes flashing underneath his hood.
"You just have to make people slightly uncomfortable. It all depends on how you do it."
The prince was almost disappointed. Almost. If Hanna didn't fling around spells at common folk, surely he wouldn't turn him into anything! That train of thought was promptly derailed when Hanna flashed a grin at him. Maurice tightened his grip on the reins.
Uncomfortable was right. He was by no means repulsed by the sight of dragon's eyes and sharp teeth set into the man's face but something about it made him squirm. Somehow, even with the mage feet below him, Maurice still felt like he was in his shadow. Was it hot out here? It was hot out here.
"It's not something you can teach." And truth be told he knew that most people could tell there was something off about him, but it wasn't common knowledge in myths and legends for dragons to take the skin of humans, so it made it all the more easier for him to blend in.
"Most folks out here are wary of wizards though. They aren't made to be like court jesters like you would find them in a castle." Magic was powerful, and dangerous, and any commoner would know that having that puts you a step above everyone else. It wasn't natural, and something to be feared. "I'm pleasant enough though, so I get good business."
Maurice thought back to the wizard his mother employed. He couldn't help but wonder if he knew more about dragons than his parents did. Or that his parents let on that they did. He found the more he thought about castle life, the more gloomy it became in comparison to the open air life he'd been living for not even a month.
"What do you do for people?" He was watching the crowd more carefully now. Heads turned, people stood aside, some waved and called out pleasantries. Hanna was right. "Are you a healer?"
A stall came into view and stole Maurice's attention. Fine bows made from saplings hung all in a row, some of them even more beautiful than the one hanging in his room at home.
"I make potions, sometimes offer them charms, protection wards..." Hanna did a number of things for people, and all of it added to his horde. Or at least, a small portion did. He was at least smart enough that he kept more money laying around to fund his business without having to take from his gold pile that slowly grew the longer he continued. "I keep it quiet though. I don't want much attention, and I don't even have a stall here. It's pretty much word of mouth between the village, sometimes I deliver to another, or I travel on occasion, but..." He shakes his head, "It's not wise to be too good."
He could continue on forever about the strategy of keeping under the radar, but Maurice's attention was pulled elsewhere, and he raised a brow, curious. He remembered him saying something about archery, but he hadn't thought much of it until now. "You're missing your bow, aren't you?" He supposed it would be too dangerous to retrieve his own for him from home.
"I don't know if I could stop myself from being too good," he said, distracted. Hanna was wise and knew how to keep himself safe and Maurice couldn't help but feel that the dragon had been cheated in his lot.
He slowed his horse as they passed the stall with the bowsmith inside talking happily with his customers.
"It's...a mixed feeling. If I'd had it with me the day we met, you'd be on a wall. And I don't want that...but. I do miss it."
"That's the difference between you and me," He says with a smile, well aware that Maurice probably hadn't had to hold back much at all growing up as a child of privilege. He can't fault him for it though. When you're raised a certain way, it isn't the child's fault, just given the opportunity to change, that's what brought out true character, and Maurice had already shown he had it.
His smile turns less playful and more thoughtful as he looks between Maurice and the stall. "Any particular catch your eye? That craftsman is especially good with his wood, isn't he?"
Sally was finally ordered to stop. Maurice turned to look down at Hanna in surprise strong enough to combat the weird feeling he got in the pit of his stomach when he looked at the smaller man's eyes. "He is, are...you serious?"
Hanna had made it clear that he was no slave, but the prince hadn't expect his employer to supply him with fine weaponry. Maurice quickly dismounted before Hanna could change his mind and led them to the stall to have a look at the display. There were bows of all types, some even tall as Maurice himself. And arrows! Arrows of all sorts. He couldn't stop himself from grinning like a child in a sweet shop. Every bow he'd owned had been custom made--he hadn't gotten to experience the thrill of picking one.
"Your work is incredible," he complimented the craftsman as he took down bow after bow, hefted it in his hands, peered down the length of it with one eye, tried it in his other hand. For once he was in his element. "Look at this one!" He turned to show off a longbow that was such a rich brown that it was almost black.
After fighting the prince with a sword, he had hoped that the man was more skilled in some other weaponry. He had...unfortunate lack of kill with a sword as far as he was concerned, and he was well aware of how fragile humans could be, having faced them before in battles that were far more serious than the one he had with Maurice. He wasn't a large dragon, but he had his own natural advantages, magic being a very useful skill that he possessed, and he was well aware that Maurice had no natural born talent for the craft himself. He could be taught, but it didn't come to him, like it had when he was a hatchling.
He watched the way he looked at the bows though, the way a true master might, and his human mouth twisted into a smile, watching with interest. "It's a beautiful color," He returned, not sure about the actual use of the bow, but able to appreciate the craft.
His smile changes some, knowing that the human under his care would need to protect himself at some point in his service, nodding to the weapon in his hand, "Is that the one you would choose?"
Hanna has to laugh, hiding his grin behind his hand before he nods to it, approaching the stall himself and reaching into the depth of his pockets and cloak, addressing the craftsman and starting to barter.
Hanna was fair in his offers, felt no real attachment to the money in is purse like he did with the horde back in his cave, and there was obviously a difference between the two. What it actually was, wasn't apparent, but if tested, he wasn't handing out fake coins in any case.
Though, once the bartering was through, Hanna handed over the coin and nodded to Maurice, ready to get on toward their true destination, "I can make you a string myself if you'd like." He offered softly beneath his breath, waiting for Maurice to mount Sally again.
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theattic2014-11-09 08:06 pm
no subject
When Maurice goes to touch him though, his hand makes a solid connection, Hanna continuing to smile back him, a knowing look in his reflective eyes. "This isn't an illusion. I've shape shifted, and while it isn't perfect, it works." Though he doubts that Maurice would understand 'my essence feels cramped', but that's alright.
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He was busy tapping Hanna's shoulder again and again, his face a mixture of puzzlement and awe. Just where did the dragon's abilities end?
"Looks perfect to me." Jab jab jab. "Perfect for writing your own scrolls."
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His skin wasn't thick and hard in this form, and he bruised easy, "I have human skin, you're starting to hurt me."
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"But that doesn't make sense! Your scrolls were atrocious! Why didn't you write them in this shape to begin with?" He dragged his hands down his face. "Never mind!" It was probably some stupid DRAGON REASON. He pushed away from the wall and gazed back up at the poster of himself. His angry pout grew more solemn.
"But...you were right. I never thought I'd see an article on my own death. I never imagined news traveling this quickly beyond your mountain. Hanna, I'm afraid this might have been a mistake. What if she's planning something? You won't be safe!"
He said, to the dragon that blended in to human society without effort on a regular basis. Somehow it hadn't occurred to Maurice that several people in his home town very well may have been dragons. Hidden and forgotten and glad of it.
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And while he is in love with his horde, his life is more important and he could give it up if it came to that. "I can hide where I want to. It's all too easy."
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"It would be hard to move a garden, wouldn't it?" He found himself feeling guilty for getting distracted instead of doing his errand. Maurice eyed the poster again before reaching up and carefully peeling it off the wall. "I'm taking this. It's a good portrait of me, don't you think?"
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He considers the poster before Maurice takes it, nodding, "It's very...flattering." Even if it wasn't entirely accurate, but he could appreciate it.
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He carefully rolled up the paper and stuck one end of it into Sally's saddlebag. "They got the hair right and that's the most important part." He gave his own mane a toss, endlessly thankful for the soap and river he'd been provided with.
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"I realized that I had left some things off the list."
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"Saves me a trip then...you were right about another thing." He leaned forward and straightened out the lock of hair between his horse's ears. "I don't know anything about interacting with these people...I might have come home with more than mud on my clothes if it weren't for you."
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"Be polite, but not too polite, and never show off that you have money, don't make scenes and keep your head down, and you'll do just fine." Desperate people make desperate moves, even if they are good people. "And always watch your back."
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"That's...almost entirely backwards to what I was taught. Always wear your finest, always make eye-contact, uphold the royal reputation by using only the best manners..." He coughed a little. Maurice's manners had been far from good since he showed up on the dragon's doorstep. "It can't be that hard...it would be like...a play! Almost. That's exciting! Is that how it is for you? To be human shaped?"
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"These people are different, it's a whole other world here, and you blend in, or you stand out. I don't think you're ready for the next one so soon after your...'death'." And he'll shrug, his shoulders aching for the feel of wings. "A little bit...just, I use the 'stand out' method, but people are somewhat fearful of me, so it works."
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"I can see that...how many people have you turned into newts?"
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"You just have to make people slightly uncomfortable. It all depends on how you do it."
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Uncomfortable was right. He was by no means repulsed by the sight of dragon's eyes and sharp teeth set into the man's face but something about it made him squirm. Somehow, even with the mage feet below him, Maurice still felt like he was in his shadow. Was it hot out here? It was hot out here.
He looked ahead again and swallowed.
"You'll have to teach me."
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"Most folks out here are wary of wizards though. They aren't made to be like court jesters like you would find them in a castle." Magic was powerful, and dangerous, and any commoner would know that having that puts you a step above everyone else. It wasn't natural, and something to be feared. "I'm pleasant enough though, so I get good business."
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"What do you do for people?" He was watching the crowd more carefully now. Heads turned, people stood aside, some waved and called out pleasantries. Hanna was right. "Are you a healer?"
A stall came into view and stole Maurice's attention. Fine bows made from saplings hung all in a row, some of them even more beautiful than the one hanging in his room at home.
"Oh!"
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He could continue on forever about the strategy of keeping under the radar, but Maurice's attention was pulled elsewhere, and he raised a brow, curious. He remembered him saying something about archery, but he hadn't thought much of it until now. "You're missing your bow, aren't you?" He supposed it would be too dangerous to retrieve his own for him from home.
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He slowed his horse as they passed the stall with the bowsmith inside talking happily with his customers.
"It's...a mixed feeling. If I'd had it with me the day we met, you'd be on a wall. And I don't want that...but. I do miss it."
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His smile turns less playful and more thoughtful as he looks between Maurice and the stall. "Any particular catch your eye? That craftsman is especially good with his wood, isn't he?"
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Hanna had made it clear that he was no slave, but the prince hadn't expect his employer to supply him with fine weaponry. Maurice quickly dismounted before Hanna could change his mind and led them to the stall to have a look at the display. There were bows of all types, some even tall as Maurice himself. And arrows! Arrows of all sorts. He couldn't stop himself from grinning like a child in a sweet shop. Every bow he'd owned had been custom made--he hadn't gotten to experience the thrill of picking one.
"Your work is incredible," he complimented the craftsman as he took down bow after bow, hefted it in his hands, peered down the length of it with one eye, tried it in his other hand. For once he was in his element. "Look at this one!" He turned to show off a longbow that was such a rich brown that it was almost black.
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He watched the way he looked at the bows though, the way a true master might, and his human mouth twisted into a smile, watching with interest. "It's a beautiful color," He returned, not sure about the actual use of the bow, but able to appreciate the craft.
His smile changes some, knowing that the human under his care would need to protect himself at some point in his service, nodding to the weapon in his hand, "Is that the one you would choose?"
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"Yes," he said, almost breathless. "Yes, this one is perfect! I could hunt with this--with the right string, I could bring down an elk as large as--"
He was going to say 'as large as you' but that would sound weird when he was addressing Hanna while he was a small, weedy man.
"A really big elk," he finished sheepishly.
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Hanna was fair in his offers, felt no real attachment to the money in is purse like he did with the horde back in his cave, and there was obviously a difference between the two. What it actually was, wasn't apparent, but if tested, he wasn't handing out fake coins in any case.
Though, once the bartering was through, Hanna handed over the coin and nodded to Maurice, ready to get on toward their true destination, "I can make you a string myself if you'd like." He offered softly beneath his breath, waiting for Maurice to mount Sally again.
(no subject)