It was a sad procession.
There was no joy in this victory.
The same calamity he had, in a different time, visited upon his people had been likewise inflicted by The Dragon. His beautiful city was destroyed. Suki, alive, but in such pain she whimpered for death in her sleep. Whatever medics survived the onslaught had bound her like a mummy, packed her with healing potions and herbs and all manner or remedies, but to languish in a dragon's stomach was no small matter. The Dragon of Time's, frankly - Suki should be dead.
And Darkon was in anguish. He played the fight over and over in his head. Could he have been faster? What if he sliced left instead of right? What if he sent The World ahead instead of The Hierophant? What if, what if...
"A gift from the envoy of a neighboring kingdom- acknowledging the New King of Astravia."
"..."
It'd been only a day since he'd slain that conniving wyrm. The servants had a terrible time cleaning the tremendous corpse from the castle floors. Some part of him wondered if he'd really killed The Dragon after all. Time seemed to be proceeding as normal, but The Hero hadn't yet appeared to mock him. Had it just left? simply decided it'd had it's fun and vanished, leaving him to languish in this new misery? Darkon wouldn't put it past him.
"A gift in praise of Astravia's queen, in recognition of her great beauty... from... an unnamed benefactor."
Darkon raised his eyes as a fully armoured knight approached the throne. He said nothing, only kneeling and raising both hands to offer a ornately carved jewelry box. Darkon allowed his gaze to grow heated. Just yesterday, Suki was indeed beautiful - but today she refused to even look in the mirror due to her ghastly injuries. Whoever sent this Knight would not know of her plight, but such a gift was most certainly an affront. Should he even give it to Suki?
Perhaps... anything to lift her spirits...
"Darling..."
They'd said she didn't want to see him, but he was desperate for her. He needed to apologize. He needed to explain. The Dragon had told her so many terrible things that he truly feared she'd hate him for the events that had just transpired.
"There was a gift brought for you."
"Leave it, Darkon."
Suki's voice was snipped and curt. There was a dreadful rasp in her voice from the sear of acid in her throat. The noise made him want to run and comfort her, but he knew she would not tolerate it. Instead, he walked over to her bedside and sat there, the jewel box in his lap. Suki turned away, as if afraid he'd see her face.
"Suki, please... I'm so sorry."
"I don't blame you."
She absolutely blamed him. He could hear the grief and hostility in her voice, and it broke his heart. He proffered the box once more.
"The Dragon d-"
"I don't want to hear about your dragon!"
"..."
"Leave, Darkon."
"Suki, please..."
Her figure, despite being so terribly wounded grabbed him by the wrist with uncanny strength. Her eye blazed and he could see the glint of bared teeth from between the layers of bandages. She was terrible angry, and terribly humiliated. Darkon lowered his eyes as she hissed at him.
"I will look at your gift, and then you will leave."
"... very well."
She sighed and took the box from him, wincing as the weight pressed down on her thighs. She opened it to reveal the tremendous... glowing diamond necklace within. A letter had been placed beside the opulent necklace. It was sealed with molten gold. Suki, temporarily distracted from her woes frowned and glanced at him.
"Who gave this to us?"
Darkon shrugged and took the envelope from her. He cracked the seal open (wondering briefly how the sender managed not to burn the paper) and unfurled the letter within. The message was penned beautifully in dark red ink.
Darkon,
Take joy in your triumph. Mourn not in your conquest. Through rite of battle, you are due your spoils.
Find me before I put off the badge of your victory.
P.S.: Have your spouse wear the necklace; I promise she will not be disappointed.
It didn't take long to find The Dragon. Common sense said he was The Knight that delivered the diamond necklace - the necklace that once worn had unwound time and healed Suki so completely, she had slapped herself twice to ensure she wasn't dreaming.
It turned out that delivering that necklace truly did raise her mood, because once the shock settled in, she hurled herself at him and embraced him. He had to excuse and extradite himself to chase down The Dragon and make sure it didn't cause any more trouble in this ruined city.
A little bit of research, of asking around and bribery landed The Prince - The King, in lieu of the coronation and wedding - in the penthouse of the city's most luxurious hotel. Apparently, the entire place had been flattened in the battle, but a knight, with some mysterious power, raised the place from it's rubble into it's former glory. All who were killed within were brought to life, and the hotel owner offered him the penthouse to stay in as some manner of recompense.
"Hero."
And frankly, Darkon had to suppress the urge to immediately eviscerate The Hero where he sat, at the small table overlooking the balcony over a set of delicate teacups and a number of butter crumpets. He was dressed in a Knight's common garb, and his face was turned away to overlook the destruction of the city.
When he spoke, there wasn't a hint of hostility in his voice. None of the vicious glee that punctuated each of his words.
"Prince... or, King rather. I'm glad you had time for me. Wonderful view, isn't it? Please, sit."
Darkon moved stiffly, suspiciously, as he walked to the table and sat in one of the plush seats. The penthouse was all fitted with flowers and pink silken curtains - it was a ladies' drawing room, and it was quite odd for a king and a dragon to share afternoon tea in such a place.
But then again, The Dragon never pretended to be normal. If he was anything, he was flamboyant.
Darkon nodded an awkward thanks when The Dragon poured his tea. It was then that Darkon noticed the great gash where The Hero's left eye should be. It was a terrible wound, but The Dragon didn't seem to mind it at all. He sipped his tea and chuckled though a brief non-explanation.
"This wound is the badge of your victory, King of Astravia. A pity I cannot treasure it always. It was a glorious battle that I truly didn't expect you to win. I commend you, Darkon."
"... what do you want, Dragon?"
The Dragon put his cup down with a clack. He leaned forward and rested his chin on his palm. He snorted.
"Wrong question, Little King. Actually, you shouldn't be asking questions at all."
"What?"
The Dragon seemed to find him very amusing, and the glitter in his eye was throwing Darkon off. But each time he got angry, the terrible wound that had nearly cleaved The Dragon's face in two reminded him he'd got his licks in already.
The Dragon stretched and yawned, languid as if their battle had been nothing but the squabbling of children.
"Come now, didn't you know? The victor takes the spoils. The victor claims the glory. The victor makes his demands. I have been bested in fair battle... so until your victory fades from my flesh, ancient law dictates that I am your servant. Do you understand what this means?"
He did. Darkon understood immediately. To have the god of this age under your command, even for a short time, was a tremendous thing. The things he could accomplish - the things he could take credit for - were mind boggling. Had The Dragon dressed himself demurely for this purpose? Surely this was no trick, right?
Will he destroy me again?
Darkon observed him closely. The Hero didn't seem begrudging in the least. In fact, overall, he seemed quite pleased with everything - Darkon included.
Darkon would take his chances. He leaned back into the chair. He made his voice demanding. The Dragon fastened his helmet and fell into his role just as easily.
"Knight, how long until your wound heals?"
"Three days, your Majesty"
"Kneel."
With perfect manners, The Dragon knelt before Darkon's chair as if it were a throne. He extended a hand; Darkon allowed him to kiss the signet ring.
"Dragon, I'm going to run you ragged."
"My leigue, you are welcome to try."