Dragon's Treasure

The cold was beginning to set in. Anvin shivered – his simple woollen tunic wasn’t doing much to protect against the chill winds of the Blue Mountains. He was the Knight of the Flame, dammit, not the Knight of the Frozen Balls. Why had Prince Aeon sent him here? He’d be more use at court, where he could actually do his job and protect his Prince instead of trudging around in the snow for hours.
Glumly, Anvin considered the possibility that his Prince was growing tired of his protection. He and the other forsworn Knights of Aeon had been serving the Prince for years, ever since he first pressed his claim to the kingdom. It was no wonder, now that the worst of his enemies had been dispatched, that he felt the need to start ruling a kingdom in earnest. Anvin and the other knights were his trusted friends, of course, but they were also reminders of battles hard won, assassinations narrowly avoided, and the dangerous life that the Prince had left behind.
There was also the matter of Anvin’s clear objection to Aeon’s upcoming marriage. The Marquee of Blaise had been their enemy, nothing more than a coward who refused to recognise Aeon’s claim, and then folded in supplication the moment Aeon’s forces grew too big for him to ignore. And now Aeon sought to ally with him? Worse, he planned to do so by marrying his daughter.
Perhaps Anvin was old fashioned, but he thought that one ought to marry for love, not out of convenience.
And perhaps once he’d entertained the notion that Aeon might have loved his loyal friend better than some girl he barely knew.
Another possibility, worse than before – perhaps Anvin was never supposed to return from this mission at all.
A deafening roar rang out, bouncing from rock to rock. Reflexively, Anvin dived behind a nearby outcrop and banished all thoughts of betrayal from his mind. Aeon had chosen him for this mission not out of any malice, but out of the wisdom his Prince was known for. Anvin of the Flame was the natural choice to fight an enemy whose primary weapon was –
- heat.
A jet of fire exploded across the sky, momentarily rendering Anvin frozen with awe. The air shimmered in the wake of the attack and gave the mountain an almost dreamlike quality. The snow that had until moments ago had been falling softly from the sky had been replaced by coils of steam, hanging and twisting in the air like dragons themselves.
Just as Anvin was thinking that he’d never see such a sight again in all his life, his eyes set upon the real thing, and he found himself corrected.
The dragon was beautiful, more beautiful than its kind had seemed in the grotty woodcuts in Aeon’s books. Its every scale sparkled under the mountain sun, and sent dots of light scattering across the snow, blue and gold and white. Anvin shielded his eyes, and despite himself, began to smile as he darted to the next rock, his sword at the ready. This, he realised, was a foe worthy of the Flame.
As he watched the shadow of the beast move sinuously across the sparkling snow, Anvin forced himself to think of a plan. He had to force the dragon to land somehow – he couldn’t bring himself to take down such a creature from afar, with a cowardly shot from the ebonwood bow Aeon had gifted him before the mission. Who knew if ordinary arrows would even harm the creature? The last thing Anvin wanted to do was make it angry.
If only he had something that shone, Anvin thought. Aeon’s books had said that dragons adore treasure above all else, and that the entire point of their destructive rampages was to find more of it to decorate their lairs. But Anvin had no treasure, aside from the few copper coins he’d brought along to trade for food and shelter when he returned to the foot of the mountains. It was as Anvin was running through a mental checklist of the things he’d brought along with him that he realised that the shadow had stopped moving.
It had stopped moving, and it was larger, and it seemed like it was cast from somewhere just above him.
Anvin’s eyes travelled upwards, and he tried to fight the urge to dart for cover when he saw the dragon perched serenely on the ledge above him, peering down at him the way he’d seen the castle cats look at the mice that they’d trapped between their paws.
Anvin swallowed, tightened his grip on his sword and shield, and assumed a fighting position. The dragon’s eyes followed his arm, and it tilted its head, almost curiously. Then, to Anvin’s shock, it began to climb down the outcrop, step by careful step. Anvin couldn’t look away. What sort of enemy brought themselves down to your level?
Too late, he realised – the kind of enemy who needn’t fear your sword. He braced himself for the flame behind his shield, praying that the cursory enchantments he’d had put upon it would be enough to protect from the dragon’s fiery breath.
It never came. Instead, as Anvin recoiled in horror, the tips of the dragon’s talons appeared around the edges of the shield, and pulled. It was intelligent after all – intelligent enough to try to take away his one defence against it. The shining talons dug into the metal of the shield as easily as if it were made of soft clay. Inwardly, Anvin cursed that tricksy court wizard and thrust forward with his sword, aiming for the cuticle of scaled flesh around the edge of the talon. It stuck, and the dragon howled. Anvin’s heart near exploded from fear, but he resolutely continued to slash at the talon, desperately pulling to try and free the remnants of his shield as he did so.
It was futile, he realised. The dragon’s claw had punctured right through the metal of his shield, and now it was stuck fast. Too late, Anvin tried to let go, but then the world was spinning and pain shot through his shoulder and a resounding crash rang in his ears as he slid down the outcrop and into the snow. He watched as another jet of flame, with an accompanying roar, shot out into the space where he’d been standing only moments ago, reducing the sword that lay discarded in the snow there to a useless lump of molten metal. And then the creature turned back towards him and (perhaps mercifully) Anvin’s world went dark.
~~~
He awoke in the dark and immediately scrambled for his sword – only to remember that the last thing he’d seen was it being melted into oblivion. Anvin groaned. He’d had that sword since he’d first joined Aeon’s campaign. It had been through hell with him, and now it was gone – and worse, it left him defenceless against the dragon, should it return for round two. Reluctantly, Anvin slipped off his left gauntlet and began to feel his way around the dark area, his mind still reeling from the shock of not being burnt to a crisp. It quickly became apparent that he was no longer in the mountain pass where he’d fought the dragon. The floor was cold, of course, but strangely smooth, like glass – the walls, when Anvin eventually found them, felt the same. A cave, then. Perhaps, Anvin thought with a pang of dread, a dragon’s lair.
His suspicions were confirmed as he continued to grope his way through the dark cave, stumbling  on piles of coins as he went. The sound of shifting metal echoed from every direction, and Anvin’s only relief was that if this was indeed the dragon’s cave, at least it wasn’t home. Perhaps there might even be a weapon of some sort among these piles of treasures. The thought uplifted Anvin’s spirits somewhat, and he went to his task with some fervour, diving into the treasure piles like a child diving into a pile of leaves.
Anvin hadn’t given much thought to the amount of noise he was making, considering that the dragon didn’t seem to be around, and so when, exhausted, he climbed out of the third pile he’d searched through without any luck and sat with a sigh upon the floor, the ensuing silence seemed almost oppressive.
Until it was broken by a stranger’s voice.
“Why are you doing that?” the stranger said, and Anvin jumped to his feet, knocking over a pile of what sounded like plates in the process.
“Who goes there?” Anvin snapped, raising his voice to try and cover his shaking.
“Caledir.” Came the voice from the darkness, and suddenly Anvin’s naked hand was gripped by another – distinctly warm, and human.
“I’m Anvin,” he said, momentarily too relieved at meeting another living soul to say his full title. Then, he realised that he might well be facing another knight, or worse still, a noble. “I am the Knight of the Flame, from the Court of Prince Aeon, of the Verdant Kingdom of Iternia.”
Caledir said nothing for a moment, and Anvin had the uncomfortable feeling that the stranger’s silence was borne from amusement rather than awe. He let go of the warm hand before him, and stood trying to make out the shape of the stranger in the darkness.
“How did you come to be here, Caledir?” Anvin asked, partly to fill the silence and partly to assuage his own curiosity. It had been some time since he’d referred to someone without a title after their name.
“I arrived some time ago. I am something of an explorer.” Caledir said. That didn’t offer much explanation, but Anvin supposed it would do. After all, his own arrival here had been less than dignified, and he was in no hurry to repeat the details of his defeat. For Caledir, surely, it must be the same.
“And this the cave of the Dragon of the Blue Mountains, is it not?” Anvin asked. There was no harm in checking, after all. His heart sank when Caledir replied with an affirmative noise, and sank further when he heard the stranger’s steps move further into the darkness.
“Wait!” He found himself crying out, and darted forward to grasp Caledir’s hand once more. When he did so, it was snatched away with a hiss of pain.
“You’re hurt.” Anvin said.
“Indeed.” Caledir replied, a touch of irritation in his voice. It seemed as though Anvin’s earlier assumption had been correct – clearly, both he and Caledir had been victims of the dragon, and now they had been dragged here for – what purpose, Anvin dreaded to think.
“I can help.” Anvin said. “I have much experience on the battlefield, and I have healed my own wounds many times.”
Caledir was silent, for a moment – and then Anvin felt his hand guided towards an outstretched arm. He felt along it, as tenderly as he could, feeling for the damage. It was worse than he’d thought – parts of the flesh were scarred to the point of being hard, proud disks on the surface of the skin. Anvin thought of those great talons, and how easily they’d punctured his shield. His heart swelled with sympathy for this poor stranger, and the pain he must have been through.
The real damage though, it was clear, was on the hand. As gentle as Anvin was trying to be, Caledir let out another hiss of pain as their fingers brushed together. Anvin shuddered and drew back – where the nail of Caledir’s index finger should have been, he’d felt only raw, unprotected flesh, and a jagged split where the nail had been ripped from its casing.
 “I-I have healing balm. It should help.” Anvin busied himself with searching in the folds of his armour, trying not to think about the pain Caledir must be in. He’d never been able to walk away from someone in pain. Some of the other Knights used to whisper that he should have been known as ‘The Knight of the Salve’, but they’d meant it in kindness – Anvin’s generosity was almost legendary.
“Here,” he said at last, unscrewing the lid of the small pot of balm he always carried for emergencies, “Hold still.”
He applied the balm to Caledir’s wound with the least amount of force he could manage, but the other man still shivered as he did so. The heady scent of the balm filled the air between them, and to his amusement, Anvin heard Caledir sniff the air and sigh appreciatively.
“It feels better.” The other man murmured, and Anvin couldn’t help but crack a smile. Then it vanished, replaced by an ‘o’ of surprise as Caledir took a step forward and kissed him softly on the lips. Anvin was suddenly very glad of the darkness as the stranger pulled back, because his face must have been bright red.
“Thank you,” Caledir said. Anvin’s thoughts were blank for a moment. His lips had been so warm, so inviting – but of course, there must be some explanation for Caledir’s behaviour. A foreign custom, perhaps.
“I’m going to bed.” Caledir murmured. “Would you like to join me?”
Would I! The thought leapt into Anvin’s mind before he could supress it and file it away as inappropriate. As it was, what actually came out of his mouth was an embarrassed stammer:
“B-but what about the dragon?”
Silence. A small part of Anvin’s mind was cursing him for ruining the mood. A bigger part of his mind was cursing him for even thinking there was a mood in the first place. He and Caledir were prisoners of a great and terrible beast, probably slated for death as soon as it arrived back from its hunt. What kind of person would want to fuck under these circumstances? Why did Anvin sort of want to fuck under these circumstances?
“No, you go on ahead.” Anvin said, “Get some rest. I’ll… I’ll keep watch. I’ll protect you.”
“Are you sure?” Caledir sounded perversely amused. “It could be terribly dangerous.”
Was Caledir trying to seduce him? Impossible. At a loss for how to reply, Anvin simply sat on the ground facing away from the wall. After a moment, he heard Caledir’s soft footsteps behind him, and then he was enveloped in a hug. His heart leapt into his mouth. Why was this happening? Why didn’t he want it to stop? And oh no, now Caledir was nibbling at his earlobe. The stranger’s teeth were unnervingly sharp, Anvin realised through the fog of desire that was quickly overwhelming his senses. There was a soft moan coming from somewhere and after a moment, Anvin blushed bright red when he realised it was coming from him.
“I like you, Anvin,” Caledir whispered, and Anvin’s heart melted. What good would he be against the dragon, anyway? He had no sword, and no shield, and his bones still ached from yesterday’s battle – assuming he hadn’t been out even longer than he’d thought. And Caledir’s breath was so hot, and the sound of his breathing was all he could hear but for the ever-louder beating of his heart. Anvin turned, found Caledir’s face in the darkness, and kissed him, running his tongue across those beautifully sharp teeth as he ran his hands down Caledir’s body, searching for an article of clothing to remove.
Caledir made an indignant noise as Anvin broke the kiss.
“Where are your clothes?” Anvin gasped. Not that it mattered if Caledir had already undressed, he supposed, but it was… odd. Something about it gave him a nasty feeling in his gut.
“Clothes?” Caledir repeated. Anvin could almost picture him tilting his head to the side, the way Aeon did when he faced a particularly puzzling problem. Perhaps it was only the word that was foreign to the stranger. Surely, in a cold climate like the mountains, he didn’t wander around naked all day.
“Yes. Like… armour. Like what I’m wearing.” Anvin brought Caledir’s hands up to his breastplate, and held a breath as the stranger ran his digits over the engraved flames.
“Wearing.” Caledir’s voice seemed almost curious. Anvin could feel the heat between his legs slowly dissipating.
“You’ve never worn clothes?” He asked, his voice betraying just a hint of his hope that this was all just a misunderstanding, that he was not in fact speaking to a madman but merely to a very enthusiastic stranger.
“No,” Caledir said, now indignant. “Why should I?”
Anvin sighed and rubbed at his eyes. He moved Caledir’s hands gently away from where they were pawing at the belt of his mail.
“What is it?” Caledir asked.
“I can’t –“ Anvin sighed again, “– I can’t take advantage of you like this.” Slowly, and despite the insistent voice in his head to just ignore his damned honour for once, Anvin unbuttoned his cloak and swept it around Caledir’s shoulders. He felt the other man flinch as the fabric settled on his skin. Anvin could tell it was an unfamiliar feeling for him without needing to see his face.
“You should sleep.” Anvin murmured, and fastened the clasp of the cloak around Caledir’s neck. There was a rustle of fabric as the stranger explored his new vestment, and then a heavy sigh.
“Fine.” Caledir almost hissed, and before Anvin could say anything more he lay down in the knight’s lap.
“I’ll sleep right here.”
Anvin resisted the urge to let out a groan of frustration. The last thing he needed was to anger this obviously crazed stranger, especially if they were likely to be stuck together for the foreseeable future. As he struggled to get comfortable on a nearby pile of treasure, the thought crossed his mind that perhaps the dragon wouldn’t be back tomorrow.
Perhaps he’d be alone with this stranger for some time.
~~~
As if in answer to his aching balls, Anvin dreamt of Aeon.
“My Prince,” he murmured, as he lightly lapped the pre from Aeon’s weeping cock, “I live to serve you.”
It was a familiar dream, and Anvin recognised that he was in it, but as always, he was powerless to resist. What he wouldn’t give to serve his Prince like this in reality, to feel Aeon’s hands clutching at his dark hair as the Knight shoved the Prince’s cock deep into his throat. His hands found their way to his own throbbing cock and he began to stroke in time with the Prince’s thrusts.
“Anvin – “ Aeon moaned, loud enough for the others to hear, letting them know who their Prince favoured most, who he cared for most, “I – I like you, Anvin…”
That was different. As Anvin realised this with a growing sense of panic, the scene morphed and changed around him until it was Aeon on his knees, lapping and sucking at Anvin’s cock like he was desperate to taste his cum. Anvin could imagine exactly what Aeon’s face would look like, all flushed and needy, but the thought of it was enough to make him lose himself completely so he forced the image out of his mind, closing his eyes and focusing on the cold pressure of the coins at his back…
Anvin’s eyes snapped open to the sight of sunlight glistening on the black walls of the cave, and to the feeling of someone’s lips wrapped tight around his cock. It took him a moment to register what was happening – the dragon, the cave, the stranger – and then he let out a desperate moan as he felt what had to be Caledir force Anvin’s cock deep down into his throat. How was he doing that?! The feeling of heat was simply overwhelming, and it wasn’t long before Anvin found himself thrusting insistently into it, frantic for release. He got his wish as Caledir moaned deeply, sending vibrations all along the length of his cock.
“W-wait!” Anvin tried to call out in warning, but it was already too late – he could feel the hot rush of orgasm overtake his body as his body thrust forwards, out of his control, pounding into Caledir’s throat and spilling hot seed into his mouth.
It took Anvin a few moments to regain his senses and overcome his shame enough to peek out from beneath the gauntleted arm he’d thrown over his face in the final moments of his climax.
Caledir was sat opposite him, smirking.
In the light of dawn, Anvin could see that the stranger was beautiful, more beautiful than any man he’d ever seen. He had tousled, golden hair that seemed to glow like a halo around his face, and bright blue eyes, and soft, beautiful lips turned pink with desire. Anvin’s cloak was still wrapped tightly around his shoulders, the red a gorgeous contrast against the stranger’s pale skin. Beside him, the discarded pieces of Anvin’s lower armour lay glittering in the sunlight.
Shining.
A creeping suspicion dawned on the knight as Caledir crawled up to him and straddled his body.
“Good morning, good Knight,” Caledir smiled, and planted an affectionate kiss on Anvin’s forehead, as if they’d been sleeping together for years instead of having met each other only the night before. As Anvin’s eyes traced the lines of Caledir’s body beneath his cloak, the other man drew back and fiddled with the clasp for a moment.
“I do hope this won’t affect our relationship together.” He let the cloak fall in folds around him, and held Anvin’s gaze as the knight’s eyes widened in shock.
The hard plates of skin that Anvin had previously mistaken for scars stood out in patches of shining blue and gold, all over Caledir’s body. Scales. Caledir smiled still wider, revealing his sharp, white teeth. Anvin’s face went pale.
“You’re a – you’re the –“ he stammered.
Caledir smirked, and kissed Anvin deep and hard before he could muster up a proper response. The kisses continued, sharp and enticing, all the way down Anvin’s neck and up against the curve of his ear.
“I am a dragon,” Caledir purred as the knight shivered helplessly beneath him, “and you are my treasure.”