[Abandoned] The Dragon That Is Most Certainly Not a Prince

In Which He Realizes He's an Adult

 He stares at the mirror in shock. Of course, the fact that his appearance had changed wasn't the reason he was in shock; he had willingly turned down a witch's offer knowing exactly what she would do, which was curse him and turn him into something else, as witches are known for doing to princes. Had he been his sister, he would've been stuck in a tower somewhere as well as cursed to be something else, but honestly... he doesn't mind this.

"I'm a dragon."

"Yes, darling, we see that," the queen mutters from the safety of the doorway. The servants huddled behind her look anxious to be on their way, but they have to take the mirror back inside when their prince is done admiring his new appearance. "Are you done, yet?"

"Mm. No. Oh, look at my eyes! They're such a strange color. What is that color, do you reckon?" He is oblivious to the shaking of the small congregation by the front door of the castle, his eyes turning from the mirror to the black talons he now has. "How sharp do you think these are? Could I cut through armor, like they say dragons used to be able to do? Oh, do you think I can do any magic? Haven't you heard that dragons could do magic, just like witches and mages and wizards?"

A new face joins the crowd, and her small gasp causes the prince's head to whip around so fast it startles the servants away from their queen. "Oh, dear. They... they did say you'd been cursed."

"Gwendolyn! Look, I'm a dragon now!" he says, lowering his head to meet her gaze. "Isn't this amazing?"

Sighing, she shakily reaches out and puts a hand on his new scaled cheek. "Arthur, I really think you should accept the cure. You can't be a dragon forever."

Pulling away from his fiancee, he shakes his head, tail lashing behind him and tripping over an innocent servant. He looks a bit guilty over the tripping, but turns back to the matter at hand without a trace of remorse. "C'mon, just one day. Let me be a dragon for one. Day. That's it."

"If we give you a day, you'll want a week, and then you'll want a month. Please take the cure, darling," Gwendolyn sighs, shaking her head at her beloved's wishes. "We need you as a human prince, not a dragon."

"Oh, we can plan all of the wedding things out here in the courtyard with me! It isn't like all those meetings need to be held in a stuffy meeting room inside the castle," he offers, curling his tail up around himself and then uncurling in a single fluid motion. His wings ruffle as he shifts, and he looks surprised, looking back at himself, before looking back at Gwendolyn. "We could go on an adventure!"

The women give each other twin looks of exasperation. They are fully aware of his desires to not be stuck governing the kingdom, but they are also aware of his limitations. His mother puts her hands on her hips and gives him her best disappointed look, while his soon-to-be bride puts on her best sad and hurt look. He cowers a bit under their gazes, which, to an outsider, looks to be rather ridiculous; a dragon easily as large as a house shrinking under the gaze of two women that it could easily snap up and eat in an instant.

"Arthur Pennwinn, you will take the cure today or so help me I will send your dearest back to her own kingdom under the pretense of keeping her safe until we solve your curse," the queen orders, using her best mother-queen voice and wagging a finger at him for emphasis. He shrinks down just a bit more at the admonishing. "Now when the physician brings you that vial you will swallow all of it and not gripe about it any longer, do you understand, young man?"

He may have muttered something, but due to his new size it simply comes out as a low rumble. The glare of his mother causes him to straighten up a bit and announce in a much clearer voice: "I will swallow all of the cure the physician brings me so my love will not be sent home because of my selfishness."

Satisfied, the queen nods and gestures for the servants to move. The mirror is whisked away, and the prince is left in the emptied courtyard with Princess Gwendolyn, who he lays down to be on eye level with. "Darling, you can't possibly think that being a dragon is all that you have thought it would be," she says, walking up and gently stroking a patch of soft skin between his nostrils, flinching a bit when he suddenly lets out a purr that also startles him. "Oh, I wasn't aware you could purr."

"Well, obviously being a dragon isn't all I thought it would be. Right now I feel like a giant scaly cat," he grumbles, gently moving her around so he can curl up around her, using a wing as a canopy to keep the worst of the midday sun off of her. Below the skin of his wing, the world is suddenly tinted as if they were in the midst of a forest, instead of a courtyard. "With wings. Do you think I could fly?"

Shaking her head, she sits on the end of his tail, which he had curled up under the shade of his wing. "You don't know how. I'm willing to bet you would simply fall over."

"No! I wouldn't. If you give me a few flaps I'm sure I can figure it out," he protests, the deep rumble of his chest more pronounced the closer she sits to him. "It can't be that much harder than figuring out how to use a slingshot."

Now she laughs. "Using a slingshot is a human thing made by humans for humans to use. You are a human man turned into a dragon, and dragons are born with other dragons to teach them to fly."

"Well, I could always try," he says, falling quiet while he thinks, staring up at the wing he holds above them. "Perhaps I shall steal myself a princess and make her mine and hold her in a warm cave in the mountains, where I shall give her the jewels of her dreams and she shall want for nothing."

"You would need to kidnap some company for her, then. Princesses get lonely if they have nobody to talk with." A gleam passes over his eyes that she isn't quite sure she likes. "But, as a prince, you would never do that. You're so noble and kind that you would steal princesses back from dragons!"

He doesn't answer to that, gently nudging her off his tail. She stands, and he curls up with his wing tucking around his body, becoming a solid wall of scale and wing. Miffed, she walks back into the castle, looking to bring this up with the physician before he brings the cure to her fiance.

The door barely has a chance to close behind her before there's an explosion of movement from the courtyard. Running back to push open the door, she has to squint in the dust that's been kicked up, covering her nose with her sleeve. A dark silhouette is hovering above the ground, and then the dust starts to clear, and a dark green smudge is winging out over the town, flying far quicker than she would have thought he could manage so soon after being transformed. It takes her a minute to realize that he isn't turning around.

"ARTHUR!"