Dragons and Cross-dressers – Chapter ten
The next time Francis opened his eyes, he was floating.
He tried to blink in surprise but was even more surprised to discover he didn't have eyelids.
Or eyes.
Or a face.
Or a body.
Or anything really.
He was just mentally floating as the scene before him played.
It started off with a beautiful blonde girl of about 5, finding a large plain looking egg. She was extremely dazzling in appearance, drawing the eyes of any young boy that pasted her. Her light green eyes were only focused on the creamy egg though in curiosity and care. She stroked the smooth beige shell in wonder. He watched her roll the egg back to her simple peasant home.
The image dissolved and resolved again with the egg hatching. A small red snout poked from the egg, followed by a head with its eyes closed. The blonde girl stared at it in wonder, smiling a breath-taking smile. The red dragon's eyes fluttered open. The easily recognisable emerald eyes came into view.
It was Iain's birth.
Or hatching as it were.
The red creature stumbled clumsily from the shell and into the girl's open arms. She giggled happily and stroked his scaly head, touching the small strange twisting black horns. She then placed a shiny silver pendant around his ruby neck.
The imaged switched again to that of the same girl but older, she was 16 or 17 playing with a 4 year old who looked at her was absolutely adoring eyes. He had red hair, pointed ears and bright green eyes. He had an unusually innocent smile as he gazed up at her lovingly. The adoration was clear.
Francis looked at the girl. She had amazingly grown even more stunningly beautiful. She was gorgeous, almost like a human goddess. She had a strange book with a magical symbol on the front, showing that she probably knew some magic. She had most likely been the one to teach Iain.
Francis soon realised that this was probably the woman who raised the dragon. The red head probably considered the striking blonde as his mother. He quickly realised that these were the red dragon's memories.
Iain was showing him his very precious memories.
The image disappeared again and reappeared as the blonde being 20 something and Iain being about 7. She aged much quicker than the dragon. She was dressed in white at a surprisingly grand and magnificent wedding for a peasant.
The nobleman quickly recognised the stoic, German man she was marrying as a king of a close-by country. He had long hair with a singular braid and green eyes which were slightly darker than hers. Francis watched as the red haired child over see the wedding from the church's rafters, obviously not allowed in the actual wedding.
He waved at his mother when she glanced at him. She smiled warmly and waved back subtly. He broke out into a wide grin, happily watching her.
Francis blushed at the sheer virtue and happiness of the beaming boy. He was just so different from the colder, older self who didn't seem to love any one strongly.
As the scene faded, the blonde wondered what happened and how this explained why he had the prince in the tower. He hadn't even seen the prince appe~
Another image appeared of the blonde holding a baby to her chest. She was dressed regally like a queen now, and in her thirties. The king was behind her, hugging her nervously with a blush on his face like he was unsure of what to do in the situation. The baby boy in her arms had light blonde hair and thick eyebrows. The 12 year old dragon was leaning over him shyly. He smiled at the child and petted him.
Francis could recognise the baby as the very young prince. If his mother bore the prince, that meant that Iain and the Prince were actually like brothers. He watched a few later scenes of the boys playing together happily. They had gotten along very well as children.
When the prince reached 4 years old though, something happened in this strange retelling of Iain's life with his brother and mother. A strange Italian man appeared in one of the memories. He was tall with brown curly hair, strong looking and unusually handsome.
He had approached the dragon in the garden one day, while he was basking in the golden sun. It was clear that the red head had a natural dislike for him, like an instinct. The Italian appeared friendly, mainly asking questions about the Queen, which Iain avoided or shrugged to.
But something seemed off about the brown haired man.
Suddenly the man just swung a sword at Iain's head.
He dodged it out of pure instinct and luck.
When he realised what had happened, he hissed angrily at the man. He was just about to attack and possibly kill this man when the brunette laughed.
The tanned man claimed it was just a joke to test his speed.
The dragon looked doubtful like he thought it was a lie but wasn't sure.
It turned out to be a lie….
A week later the man reappeared.
This time he came to talk to the queen.
He was deceptively good-looking, almost too prefect but not in the same way as the Queen. He stared eerily at Iain's mother as she watched Iain play with the young prince. They talked a little but it was tense.
The 12 year old dragon was holding a hare doll and pretending that it was hopping around the baby blonde. He looked up though when the two adults started arguing.
He stood up, telling the other boy to stay on the floor away from the fight. The dragon stood between the tanned man and the prince protectively. He kept looking worriedly at his mother. The blonde looked very angry.
Suddenly she slapped him.
The man paused before his face contorted in anger. The Italian man transformed unexpectedly, forcing the Queen to step back.
She looked terrified as the handsome man became a bulking, black troll like monster. It had huge claws, glowing venomous yellow eyes, huge teeth, thick black skin. It was ugly and like a stereotypical monster, the complete opposite of his other form.
It grabbed at the comparatively frail blonde who struggled and fought against him.
Iain leaped at the creature's back, his human form growing wings, a tail, horns and claws. It clung and clawed at its back, trying to force it away from his precious mother.
The monster just swatted the boy away with his powerful free arm.
The dragon flew back against the wall, landing with a sickening crack.
Francis could see his eyes widen in unfamiliar pain. The Queen tried to reach out to him, begging for him to be safe. The prince had begun to cry loudly. His loving older brother and kind mother were being hurt by this strange beast.
Suddenly Iain was back attacking the troll again. His human form was gone completely now. The difference in strength between this form and the last was obvious. The small red dragon was now more of a challenge for the monster.
He had to release the gasping Queen who crumpled without the creature holding her up. The dragon was clawing at him. He was only the size of a large dog at this age. The monster was still stronger than him.
It fought and swung in annoyance at the young dragon, eventually catching him.
The red scaled being struggled in its grip, trying to break free. The troll took a wing in one hand and pulled. Francis flinched when he heard the awful snap, following by a screaming roar of agony and tears. It laughed at the pained and pulled harder, meaning to pull off the wing completely.
The flesh was torn and it began to bleed.
Suddenly a blonde hurled herself at the monster.
The queen distracted him enough for the dragon to scramble away in a panic with a limp bloody wing.
The monster, angry at losing the opportunity to de-wing the dragon swiped a huge clawed hand at the queen, striking her delicate body across the chest.
She screamed in pain.
The dragon screamed in rage and tears as he watched his precious and beloved mother fall to the ground.
The prince was silent now as he fainted from shock.
The monster suddenly turned to the prince. It had a new target, now that its previous one was dead.
The dragon charged in fury. The red head was determined not to lose another precious family member. He attacked carelessly, determined to take revenge. The monster was surprised by the sudden intensity of attack. He fell back in surprise. It lifted it hands up in defence but was too slow.
It lost a yellow eye to a black claw.
It cried out in surprise.
The dragon didn't stop. It bit the monster and clawed at it.
Suddenly voices were heard from down the corridor. The monster quickly disappeared, fleeing the room out of the window. The last words from its mouth were swearing to the dragon that he would come back for the Prince in return for losing an eye.
The dragon collapsed exhausted, transforming back to the form of a naked, 12 year old boy. He pulled himself over to the bleeding body of his mother. He shook her shoulders like he was trying to wake her, crying large loud tears and calling her name. He wailed in distress at the sudden lost.
Francis felt a stab in his heart as he watched the boy beg for his mother not to die. He hugged her to his chest, as the first of the soldiers entered.
They gasped in shock at the scene before turning their weapons on the boy.
Francis suddenly knew what was going to happen.
They were going to blame Iain for the Queen's death.
It was clear by the distrust and fear in their eyes. They had rushed to the room after hearing the queen scream. When they had entered, what they saw was the naked form of a recently changed dragon, splattered with blood, leaning over the dead queen who had died from a swipe of large claws.
The boy, who was smeared with the blood of the queen and monster, clung to the queen desperately as the soldiers approached warily with swords and spears raised. The blood was sprayed up his body and across his face which was smudged by his sorrowful tears.
It did seem like he was the one responsible to the soldiers, though he tried to explain in non-understandable hiccups what had happened.
The closest one suddenly lunged at him with a screech. He jumped back in fear and soon the rest attacked.
Iain didn't try to attack any of them back though.
He just leaped back, avoiding the swinging swords and stabbing spears. After a few moments of being attack ruthlessly, the dragon turned and ran. He grabbed the limp body of the blonde prince and sprinted for the window.
The red wings burst from his back but one was crooked as he jumped out of the window.
Francis watched in fear as the dragon flew lop-sided with a limping wing. Since he couldn't support his weight plus the young prince's weight with the broken wing, he ended up gliding down at an awkward angle from the high window.
He flew in between gliding and falling for miles, his grief fuelling his will-power to go on despite his broken body's protests. Occasionally he would plummet and it seemed like they would crash, only for him to barely rescue it from a messy end.
He was soon out of the kingdom and into the next.
Eventually the exhaustion and pain took over and he dropped from the sky. He crashed through the tree line, hitting branches and twigs as he fell. Francis watch as the red head stumbled in his landing, making sure he was the one to hit the ground hard instead of the Prince.
He stood up, checking that his brother was still unharmed and safe. The red haired boy was covered in lots of tiny cuts which were unnoticeable because of the blood.
Once he was safely on the ground, he ran.
He had already left the kingdom where he grew up, chased out because of his mother's death. He had no reason to return. The only thing he knew was to protect the toddler in his arms from the monster.
He held his unconscious younger brother to him tightly. He kept running though, with occasional tears streaming down his cheeks until the sunset was quickly approaching. He finally fell back against an old oak tree and burst into loud tears.
He didn't know what to do now, that was obvious. He had spent his entire life being protected and looked after by his mother.
Francis willed himself to try and hug the red head in comfort but this was a memory. He could do nothing but watch.
After a while, working out his tears and sadness, the boy stood again. He wandered blindly through the woods as the light began to fade.
Soon he came to a small meadow. In the meadow were the destroyed remains of a large tower. It had crumbled so it was just half of a tower, lying around the grassy area.
To Francis, it looked like a dump.
However, the red head looked at the place in wonder like he had found a haven.
He stumbled to the nearing large grey brick and placed the unconscious prince beside it.
The boy then drew a circle, much more complicated than the one he would use in the future on Francis.
When he was done, he tore open his arm clumsily, not caring about the amount of damage done. The blood gushed onto the ground, activating the magical circle. The whole place glowed brightly. The building began re-assembling itself until it was a new tower, the one which existed today with the prince inside.
"I promise I will protect you"
I promise.
This was why and how the prince was in the tower.
The flash backs started to continue, filled with him fighting with the prince as their relationship fell apart from the stress and the loneliness, but the French man had had enough.
"Iain… I've seen enough…"
He felt the world go black before he opened his eyes again.
(A/N – I am not a Grandpa Rome hater. In fact I love him! But he and Scotland have some really really bad history together so it's only natural that he would be Scotland's enemy. I needed a bad guy. Sorry Rome!
This is actually kinda similar to what happened in Scotland's real history with Rome and Britannia's death. (Though it is actually sadder and more heart breaking than this story! Sorry Scotland – I'm a sap for men with broken pasts…. TT^TT)
REVIEW PLEASE!)