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

In Which He Gets Called Little Prince

The capitol is absolutely huge.

Had I been my true size I probably barely would've been able to see over the walls standing on my hind legs and stretching as much as I could. Alice stares around at the city with just as much awe and appreciation as I am, and I climb up onto the horse's head to get a better view, my tail twitching behind me. The crowd gives me almost the same look I'm giving their city, and the people in front of us part with ease when people start staring behind them, moving to the side to watch as we ride by, their eyes locked on me and not even glancing at my human companions.

Shrinking back down, I slide back to hide in Bellwyn's lap when I get tired of the staring, hiding my head under my wing and tail with the added bonus of the cloak. She doesn't unravel me when she dismounts, gently putting me on top of Alice's head and probably giving the girl my leash as well. They walk for a long time, until someone picks me up around the middle, removing me from Alice, and taking my leash as well. Bellwyn is arguing with them as they take me away, and I'm wiggling and screeching and chittering and chirping as loud and as much as I can, but I'm taken around a corner and a door is slammed shut behind my captor.

In the room, I'm set roughly down on a square table, and a man in really nice clothes follows the guards in, sitting down in the seat across from me. Sitting in the center of the table, I curl my tail around my talons, meeting the man's gaze and not flinching when he sits forward in his seat. I've been confronted by my father in such a similar manner back home that this seems like an old routine, despite the dark skin and foreign tilt of the man's features.

"This one is far too small to have stolen the jewels. Why did you bring it here?"

The lilt of the foreign tongue is sharp, but I understand it, and I feel the warm pulse of dragon magic inside my chest, as small as the pulse when I breathe fire; another passive magical ability, then. Whoever had kidnapped me bows with a rustling of fabric.

"Sire, it came with adventurers claiming they have a strategy to recover your father's jewels."

The prince (that's what an emperor's son is called, right?) scoffs, waving his hand at the guard. "In case you were unaware, the dragon that took Father's jewels was far larger than this one, and the coloring was a bright gold, nothing like this filthy green in front of me. And what's this?" he asks, suddenly distracted, reaching toward me. His fingers uncurl and go to brush the edge of my cloak, but pull back before touching it. "I want to meet with those adventurers. Bring them their dragon back when you deliver the order."

I'm scooped up again, no gentler than before, and I'm swept out of the room and through a maze of hallways until I'm dizzy before I'm dumped very gracefully in Bellwyn's arms. "The Prince shall meet with you in an hour's time. Dress... better," he grumps before leaving the room. Bellwyn turns and reveals a rather large room with a table in the center, like the one I had just been sitting on. Gavin and Julika are consulting her notes, and Alice is sitting dejectedly at the end of the table.

Sitting down in front of her, I nudge her until she looks up. Bellwyn speaks for me. "Put the little prince in his fancy court cloak, Alice, and then we're putting you in a cleaner dress and brushing your hair."

Smiling once more, the girl pulls the small bag up from under her skirts, where it was hidden by the way the fabric falls. Gently taking the rain cloak off of my back, she licks her finger and wipes a smudge of dirt off of my cheek and then puts the shimmering silk cloak around my shoulders, tying the golden strings off in a neat bow and patting my head. "A handsome little prince in his handsome little prince's cloak," she whispers, echoing the grandmother the night she had made this cloak.

Watching Gavin holding a blanket from the bedrolls up for the women to change behind, I don't feel like much of a prince, sitting small an insignificant on a table grander than anything I've seen before, with sparkling gold at least brushed along the raised design of the table beneath a pane of glass thinner and clearer than I've ever looked at. At least, it was clear, before I breathed on it.