(Author's Notes and Copyright disclaimer: All characters are copyright of their respective agencies, and no copyright infringement is intended.)

1 Regrets

By OcelotKitten

Draco tugged futilely at his chains again, and snarled softly to himself when the bonds still stubbornly refused to give. Under normal circumstances, he would've been able to at least bend, if not break the chains holding him to the cold stones of the courtyard. However, since he was so restrained by the cold metal, he couldn't get enough leverage to do anything more than tug at his bonds. He craned his neck upward, straining for a glimpse of the starry sky, but when the fetters encircling his neck prevented this motion, he fell to frantically thrashing from side to side in a desperate attempt to free himself.

He fell still again, and heaved a heavy sigh. Sorrowfully, he recalled what had brought him to this end. Years ago, confronted by a grieving queen, and a dying prince, Draco had taken pity on the young boy, and shared his heart. The heart that now bound Einon to him as surely as the chains bound him to the courtyard's cold flagstones. The heart that beat in Einon's breast ensured that as long as the dragon lived, Einon would be invulnerable. The dragon shook his head viciously, as much in another futile attempt to free himself as in disgust at his own naivete. His delight at finally being able to do something that would once again bring man and dragonkind together had blinded him to the young man's inborn avarice and cruelty.

The young prince with the dragon's heart had inherited his father's kingdom, and become a cruel and sadistic ruler. Draco's gift had become his sin and now he lived only to find some way to undo his wrong. The dragon closed his eyes briefly, as he steeled his resolve to do what he knew he had to. The sounds of the battle in and around the castle had reached his ears, and he knew that Bowen would soon come looking for him. Draco knew that the knight would be horrified at the idea of what the dragon needed him to do, but Draco knew that he had to convince him.

Sudden, incongruous thoughts fluttered through his mind. His childhood memories racing over him like a fog. Growing up near the castle, Aislinn coming to his cave and asking for his sacrifice, meeting Bowen and Kara . . . Draco chuckled at the memories of the ruses they had pulled on Einon's vassals. Suddenly, he sobered and caught his breath at one particular memory, one that Bowen could never know. Draco feared that if the human found out, he wouldn't have the courage to slay the dragon and thus end Einon's rule. His thoughts flitted back to his cave, and the secret hidden there.

During the epic battle that they had engaged in when he had first met Bowen, Draco had exclaimed in anger that he was the last of the dragons. However, what he had not told the human was that Draco had a son. The young dragon had not hatched, and was as yet years from being ready to enter the world. Draco had feared all along what would be necessary to rid the world of Einon, and had hidden the knowledge of the egg from the knight. Draco squeezed his eyes tightly shut, and even so, felt a tear slip from beneath one closed lid. He would never see the youngling dragon, never teach him of his rich and proud heritage, never watch him practice flying, never soothe his bruises as he crashed back to earth, never feel a thrill of pride as his son flew successfully for the first time. He felt more tears splash to the flagstones, his resolve to follow the course of action he had set for himself nearly falling.

He took a deep breath, steeling himself. Suddenly, he heard a door crash open and heard Bowen running toward him. Draco turned to meet his fate.