Re: Alfred the Racist Dragon [3.5/?]
anonymous
February 20 2010, 15:54:33 UTC
It would not fit. T_T -
The dragon was about thirty feet long, with a huge, heavily-muscled frame and golden metallic scales covering its body. It was blinding, like the sun itself, but a hundred times more breathtaking. It had a long, sinuous neck that whipped around from side to side, as if shaking the remaining leaves from its head. The gigantic wings that kept it aloft beat furiously, and the wind it produced nearly drove the Kirkland brothers to their knees.
Then the dragon let out another earsplitting roar and swooped down on them, claws extended.
The brothers yelled in surprise and fear, scrambling away as the dragon landed in the centre of the clearing. It blinked, seemingly unaffected by its harsh landing, and opened its mouth wide, sending a jet of flame at a nearby tree.
Anrothan and Alastair, headstrong as ever, charged at the dragon with their swords drawn, fury on their faces and battlecries spilling from their throats. There were twin metallic clangs as their swords hit the scales, about as insignificant as an ant bite to the huge creature. It turned its gaze towards them, reptilian lips drawing back to spew fire...
Then it simply roared in pain as a bolt lodged itself between the scales in its neck. Andras, who had thought more quickly than his brothers, had dropped his sword and taken out his favourite crossbow, and was now loading it with another heavy-duty bolt. His eyes glinted steel as he raised the weapon once again to the dragon.
Arthur was frozen in place. His rapier seemed useless in this situation, and being a squire he had no other weapons with him. His brothers were fighting furiously, hacking ineffectually away to distract the dragon from Arthur and Andras. Arthur's mind raced desperately for a solution, anything-
And then his fingers brushed against his belt pouch.
Withdrawing ingredients with shaking hands, he crushed a handful of herbs in his fingers, whispering a levitation spell. A nearby fallen log started to rise off the ground, floating higher and higher, moving towards the dragon and hitting it on the side of the head before crashing. Arthur sighed- it had worked. The dragon was distracted, trying to figure out where the log had come from, and was no longer snapping at his brothers.
His relief lasted, of course, until the dragon looked him directly in the eye.
With a shout, he hurriedly drew out a handful of dragondust, not bothering to measure in his haste. He closed his eyes, throwing the dust, crying out, "Ivahsi yuduin-!"
He was slammed against the ground before he could finish his spell, pinned there by an unbearable weight. He opened his eyes, screaming as he found the startlingly electric blue eyes of the dragon staring back at him.
He had never felt so much terror in his life. He could see himself reflected in the dragon's bright blue eyes- sandy blond hair fanned out, framing his chalk-white face frozen with fear, his mouth still open in a helpless scream.
The dragon's lips drew back in what seemed to be a mocking grin, dripping, sharp teeth grazing Arthur's cheek. Hot breath spilled over him and enveloping him in a terrible blast of heat. He felt faint. Dimly, he was aware of his brothers yelling his name and the clash of metal against metal. Tears streamed down his face. He was sure this was his last moment alive-
Then suddenly the claw tightened around him, digging into the soil. The dragon extended its wings, flapping suddenly and sending the knights falling to their knees.
The last thing Arthur knew was the feeling of flying, before he fainted.
Re: Alfred the Racist Dragon [3.5/?]
anonymous
February 20 2010, 22:29:00 UTC
Please update! I can't wait to see what happens next. I really want to see Arthur's reaction when he sees the dragon in his "human form". Don't know why, but I have this strange fetish of sexy men transformed from something deadly or unhuman ^///^.
Re: Alfred the Racist Dragon [4/?]
anonymous
February 21 2010, 14:39:09 UTC
Sorry for the short chapter- I'm piled with work at school now and I don't think I'll be able to update as frequently. :( To all the reviewers- I love you! I really didn't think this fic would be worth much, but you guys really give me hope. :D
-
Warmth. That was the first thing Arthur noticed when he woke up, muscles sore and aching. He kept his eyes closed, relishing the gentle heat and softness that surrounded him. He sank gratefully into the downy pillows and mattress, letting out a small moan of appreciation at this little comfort so rarely afforded him in his squire training. He smiled at the answering rumble, and drifted off to sleep...
Wait. He furrowed his brow as he thought. Answering... rumble?
With a gasp he shot up, tangling himself in the blankets and screaming as he came face to face with the dragon.
The dragon let out a sharp, irritated breath, and opened an eye lazily to examine its panicking captive. It bared its teeth in a ferocious snarl, flicking a tongue out to touch a gleaming fang. Arthur looked around wildly for an escape, but there was none- he was in a cave, and its gigantic mouth was covered completely by the dragon.
An odd white smoke started to fill the cave, and Arthur coughed violently and screwed his eyes shut, sure that the dragon was about to rage at him and swallow him whole for disturbing its rest. When a few moments passed and nothing happened, he opened his eyes only to find the smoke cleared, and in the dragon's place, a young man.
His hair was a shocking blond, the colour of sunlight on the sand, and his tanned skin had the same strange metallic lustre as the dragon's gold scales. His eyes were a startling sky blue, sparkling with intelligence and mischief. A very faint outline of scales patterned his skin, beginning at the line of his jaw and sweeping down the right side of his body, leaving the left unmarked and unblemished. Arthur followed the pattern as it wrapped smoothly around the man, curving down to his hips...
Arthur let out an embarrassed yelp and dove under the blankets, cheeks flaming. He could hear laughter from the dragon-man, as well as the sound of rustling cloth which, he hoped, meant that he was putting on something to wear.
When he deemed it safe to look, he lowered the blankets slowly from his face, eyes wide and mind still reeling from all the surprises he had seen that day. He raised his eyes to meet the man's, and he swallowed nervously, feeling a tight ball of fear sink in his stomach. What was the man planning, and why hadn't he been killed yet? His knuckles turned white, his grip tightening on the blankets as he wondered whether dragons liked to torture their prey first.
"Why, hello there, human," the man spoke, a smile on his face and his tone light and cheerful.
Arthur struggled to speak. "W-what did... what did you do with my brothers? Where am I? Why am I here?" He hated himself for allowing a tremor of fear to seep through his voice.
"Hey, calm down! Those were your brothers back there? I didn't kill them, if that's what you meant. You're in my house, but consider it yours for now. I've got enough stuff to keep you occupied, I think."
For the first time, Arthur noticed the heaps of gold, jewels, and rare precious objects surrounding the bed, disorganized but still awe-inspiring. There was a shelf of old, yellowing leatherbound books; a collection of delicately carved ivory statuettes; a chest with bolts of fine cloth spilling out; and oddly enough, an old and battered water pipe. The treasure seemed to extend until the end of the cave- he couldn't be sure, as it was already shrouded in darkness. He caught sight of his leather vest, armguards and boots, and he realized with a start that he was only in his shirt and breeches.
"I'm Alfred, by the way," the dragon-man said conversationally. Arthur couldn't suppress a shiver of fear at the sudden thought of being killed casually, like this strange exchange. "I think the others called you Arthur, yeah?"
He nodded, and licked his lips nervously. "You never answered my question- why am I here?" He asked again, partly dreading the answer.
Alfred stiffened, then turned his head to give Arthur a gleefully vicious, feral grin.
Re: Alfred the Racist Dragon [5/?]
anonymous
March 1 2010, 15:16:13 UTC
Arthur sighed as he sank deeper into the cool spring of clear water- perfectly clean, Alfred had assured him, with nothing living in it at all- that was tucked into one corner of the cave. The sunlight from the giant entranceway fell in shining strips along the water, blocked by the looming stalactites and stalagmites, lighting the spring in irregular patches. Arthur frowned at the picture he painted- his head and shoulders illuminated in the sparkling water, everything below shrouded in darkness, except for the very tips of his toes. It was a comical sight, if the way Alfred had openly laughed at him earlier was any indication.
Speaking of Alfred... Arthur looked around cautiously. The dragon-man had been eerily quiet, unseen for the past hour or so, probably a good thing considering that their first conversation had ended with Arthur collapsing into a nervous breakdown. He had then shown Arthur around the cavern, proudly pointing out his favourite acquisitions from around the world- French and Indian literature, Italian art, a broken-off part of what must have been a beautiful stained glass window, gleaming weapons, and curiously enough, the old rusted pipe. Alfred had refused to tell him the story of that particular item, preferring to show him instead the view from the entrance way.
It was only when Arthur was at the edge of the gaping mouth, uncomfortably aware of the sheer drop of the cliff below the cave and, consequently, of the sheer impossibility of his escape, that he began to cry.
He wished he had never accompanied Alastair on the quest. He wanted to go home, sleep in his own bed, surround himself with his belongings and the familiarity of the castle. He wanted to go back to his brothers. However much he seemed to hate them, they were nothing compared to this, this strong, intimidating not-man who called himself Alfred. Looking down at the tiny trees below the cliff, he realised that the only way he was ever getting out was if Alfred decided to let him go- and at the moment there was hardly any chance of that.
It wasn't as if he was terribly afraid of Alfred, although he had been, in the beginning. He had been utterly terrified, but so far the dragonman had not attempted to eat him, maim him, or even injure him at all. It was almost as if Alfred was going out of his way to check his strength and not scare Arthur into throwing himself off the cliff- although Arthur couldn't think of any reason why he would be that kind. Alfred was being every inch the gracious host, and though Arthur would much rather be anywhere else, he found himself- much against his will- enjoying the happy companionship that he provided.
Heaving another sigh, he pushed himself up on the rocks and reached for the thin, embroidered bathrobe that had mysteriously appeared beside him. Alfred's doing, he guessed. His captor was surprisingly thoughtful.
The bath had relaxed him greatly, and he walked over to the large bed, stretching as he did so. He found Alfred, a dragon once again, curled up around it, breath steaming slightly in the cold air. He was asleep, and Arthur took the time to examine him properly.
The dragon was even more magnificent without terror clouding his eyes, Arthur thought. He could easily see the glittering gold scales, lined in strange, intricate patterns on the dragon's skin. Strong muscles rippled under the scales, leading up to the huge, leathery wings. He reached out a hand and touched the warmth of Alfred's powerful forearm, trailing it down the rough scales until he felt the sharpness of a talon, dangerously cutting even at its base.
The dragon let out a snort, and white smoke clouded Arthur's vision before the man Alfred was standing before him again.
- Sorry for the slow update! I just finished my exams. :) The next part is partially written (it should have been one long chapter, but I wanted to post this already), so don't think I've given up on this yet! :D
-
The dragon was about thirty feet long, with a huge, heavily-muscled frame and golden metallic scales covering its body. It was blinding, like the sun itself, but a hundred times more breathtaking. It had a long, sinuous neck that whipped around from side to side, as if shaking the remaining leaves from its head. The gigantic wings that kept it aloft beat furiously, and the wind it produced nearly drove the Kirkland brothers to their knees.
Then the dragon let out another earsplitting roar and swooped down on them, claws extended.
The brothers yelled in surprise and fear, scrambling away as the dragon landed in the centre of the clearing. It blinked, seemingly unaffected by its harsh landing, and opened its mouth wide, sending a jet of flame at a nearby tree.
Anrothan and Alastair, headstrong as ever, charged at the dragon with their swords drawn, fury on their faces and battlecries spilling from their throats. There were twin metallic clangs as their swords hit the scales, about as insignificant as an ant bite to the huge creature. It turned its gaze towards them, reptilian lips drawing back to spew fire...
Then it simply roared in pain as a bolt lodged itself between the scales in its neck. Andras, who had thought more quickly than his brothers, had dropped his sword and taken out his favourite crossbow, and was now loading it with another heavy-duty bolt. His eyes glinted steel as he raised the weapon once again to the dragon.
Arthur was frozen in place. His rapier seemed useless in this situation, and being a squire he had no other weapons with him. His brothers were fighting furiously, hacking ineffectually away to distract the dragon from Arthur and Andras. Arthur's mind raced desperately for a solution, anything-
And then his fingers brushed against his belt pouch.
Withdrawing ingredients with shaking hands, he crushed a handful of herbs in his fingers, whispering a levitation spell. A nearby fallen log started to rise off the ground, floating higher and higher, moving towards the dragon and hitting it on the side of the head before crashing. Arthur sighed- it had worked. The dragon was distracted, trying to figure out where the log had come from, and was no longer snapping at his brothers.
His relief lasted, of course, until the dragon looked him directly in the eye.
With a shout, he hurriedly drew out a handful of dragondust, not bothering to measure in his haste. He closed his eyes, throwing the dust, crying out, "Ivahsi yuduin-!"
He was slammed against the ground before he could finish his spell, pinned there by an unbearable weight. He opened his eyes, screaming as he found the startlingly electric blue eyes of the dragon staring back at him.
He had never felt so much terror in his life. He could see himself reflected in the dragon's bright blue eyes- sandy blond hair fanned out, framing his chalk-white face frozen with fear, his mouth still open in a helpless scream.
The dragon's lips drew back in what seemed to be a mocking grin, dripping, sharp teeth grazing Arthur's cheek. Hot breath spilled over him and enveloping him in a terrible blast of heat. He felt faint. Dimly, he was aware of his brothers yelling his name and the clash of metal against metal. Tears streamed down his face. He was sure this was his last moment alive-
Then suddenly the claw tightened around him, digging into the soil. The dragon extended its wings, flapping suddenly and sending the knights falling to their knees.
The last thing Arthur knew was the feeling of flying, before he fainted.
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should be
Hot breath spilled over him and enveloped him in a terrible blast of heat.
That is what I get for doing this in the wee hours of the morning. XD Sorry to all the grammar sticklers out there (like me XD).
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You're awesomeness makes me want to cry...
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-
Warmth. That was the first thing Arthur noticed when he woke up, muscles sore and aching. He kept his eyes closed, relishing the gentle heat and softness that surrounded him. He sank gratefully into the downy pillows and mattress, letting out a small moan of appreciation at this little comfort so rarely afforded him in his squire training. He smiled at the answering rumble, and drifted off to sleep...
Wait. He furrowed his brow as he thought. Answering... rumble?
With a gasp he shot up, tangling himself in the blankets and screaming as he came face to face with the dragon.
The dragon let out a sharp, irritated breath, and opened an eye lazily to examine its panicking captive. It bared its teeth in a ferocious snarl, flicking a tongue out to touch a gleaming fang. Arthur looked around wildly for an escape, but there was none- he was in a cave, and its gigantic mouth was covered completely by the dragon.
An odd white smoke started to fill the cave, and Arthur coughed violently and screwed his eyes shut, sure that the dragon was about to rage at him and swallow him whole for disturbing its rest. When a few moments passed and nothing happened, he opened his eyes only to find the smoke cleared, and in the dragon's place, a young man.
His hair was a shocking blond, the colour of sunlight on the sand, and his tanned skin had the same strange metallic lustre as the dragon's gold scales. His eyes were a startling sky blue, sparkling with intelligence and mischief. A very faint outline of scales patterned his skin, beginning at the line of his jaw and sweeping down the right side of his body, leaving the left unmarked and unblemished. Arthur followed the pattern as it wrapped smoothly around the man, curving down to his hips...
Arthur let out an embarrassed yelp and dove under the blankets, cheeks flaming. He could hear laughter from the dragon-man, as well as the sound of rustling cloth which, he hoped, meant that he was putting on something to wear.
When he deemed it safe to look, he lowered the blankets slowly from his face, eyes wide and mind still reeling from all the surprises he had seen that day. He raised his eyes to meet the man's, and he swallowed nervously, feeling a tight ball of fear sink in his stomach. What was the man planning, and why hadn't he been killed yet? His knuckles turned white, his grip tightening on the blankets as he wondered whether dragons liked to torture their prey first.
"Why, hello there, human," the man spoke, a smile on his face and his tone light and cheerful.
Arthur struggled to speak. "W-what did... what did you do with my brothers? Where am I? Why am I here?" He hated himself for allowing a tremor of fear to seep through his voice.
"Hey, calm down! Those were your brothers back there? I didn't kill them, if that's what you meant. You're in my house, but consider it yours for now. I've got enough stuff to keep you occupied, I think."
For the first time, Arthur noticed the heaps of gold, jewels, and rare precious objects surrounding the bed, disorganized but still awe-inspiring. There was a shelf of old, yellowing leatherbound books; a collection of delicately carved ivory statuettes; a chest with bolts of fine cloth spilling out; and oddly enough, an old and battered water pipe. The treasure seemed to extend until the end of the cave- he couldn't be sure, as it was already shrouded in darkness. He caught sight of his leather vest, armguards and boots, and he realized with a start that he was only in his shirt and breeches.
"I'm Alfred, by the way," the dragon-man said conversationally. Arthur couldn't suppress a shiver of fear at the sudden thought of being killed casually, like this strange exchange. "I think the others called you Arthur, yeah?"
He nodded, and licked his lips nervously. "You never answered my question- why am I here?" He asked again, partly dreading the answer.
Alfred stiffened, then turned his head to give Arthur a gleefully vicious, feral grin.
"Oh, you'll find out soon enough."
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Lol, Alfred ganked Ivan's waterpipe. I think it'd be hilariousif one of Alfred's treasures was super magical lube stolen from France 8D
Poor Arthur. If only he had his unicorn friends to save his virginity~ Please update soon :3
Btw, have you posted this on the fills page? I don't remember seeing it.
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Thank you for your comment as well- yes, I had to throw the water pipe in somewhere! :D
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I love this fill, f5ing all the way!
CAPTCHA says 'lavishing great'
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ReCaptcha: Govern hotness (Ohohoho I like where ReCaptcha is going with this~ ;D)
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Arthur sighed as he sank deeper into the cool spring of clear water- perfectly clean, Alfred had assured him, with nothing living in it at all- that was tucked into one corner of the cave. The sunlight from the giant entranceway fell in shining strips along the water, blocked by the looming stalactites and stalagmites, lighting the spring in irregular patches. Arthur frowned at the picture he painted- his head and shoulders illuminated in the sparkling water, everything below shrouded in darkness, except for the very tips of his toes. It was a comical sight, if the way Alfred had openly laughed at him earlier was any indication.
Speaking of Alfred... Arthur looked around cautiously. The dragon-man had been eerily quiet, unseen for the past hour or so, probably a good thing considering that their first conversation had ended with Arthur collapsing into a nervous breakdown. He had then shown Arthur around the cavern, proudly pointing out his favourite acquisitions from around the world- French and Indian literature, Italian art, a broken-off part of what must have been a beautiful stained glass window, gleaming weapons, and curiously enough, the old rusted pipe. Alfred had refused to tell him the story of that particular item, preferring to show him instead the view from the entrance way.
It was only when Arthur was at the edge of the gaping mouth, uncomfortably aware of the sheer drop of the cliff below the cave and, consequently, of the sheer impossibility of his escape, that he began to cry.
He wished he had never accompanied Alastair on the quest. He wanted to go home, sleep in his own bed, surround himself with his belongings and the familiarity of the castle. He wanted to go back to his brothers. However much he seemed to hate them, they were nothing compared to this, this strong, intimidating not-man who called himself Alfred. Looking down at the tiny trees below the cliff, he realised that the only way he was ever getting out was if Alfred decided to let him go- and at the moment there was hardly any chance of that.
It wasn't as if he was terribly afraid of Alfred, although he had been, in the beginning. He had been utterly terrified, but so far the dragonman had not attempted to eat him, maim him, or even injure him at all. It was almost as if Alfred was going out of his way to check his strength and not scare Arthur into throwing himself off the cliff- although Arthur couldn't think of any reason why he would be that kind. Alfred was being every inch the gracious host, and though Arthur would much rather be anywhere else, he found himself- much against his will- enjoying the happy companionship that he provided.
Heaving another sigh, he pushed himself up on the rocks and reached for the thin, embroidered bathrobe that had mysteriously appeared beside him. Alfred's doing, he guessed. His captor was surprisingly thoughtful.
The bath had relaxed him greatly, and he walked over to the large bed, stretching as he did so. He found Alfred, a dragon once again, curled up around it, breath steaming slightly in the cold air. He was asleep, and Arthur took the time to examine him properly.
The dragon was even more magnificent without terror clouding his eyes, Arthur thought. He could easily see the glittering gold scales, lined in strange, intricate patterns on the dragon's skin. Strong muscles rippled under the scales, leading up to the huge, leathery wings. He reached out a hand and touched the warmth of Alfred's powerful forearm, trailing it down the rough scales until he felt the sharpness of a talon, dangerously cutting even at its base.
The dragon let out a snort, and white smoke clouded Arthur's vision before the man Alfred was standing before him again.
-
Sorry for the slow update! I just finished my exams. :) The next part is partially written (it should have been one long chapter, but I wanted to post this already), so don't think I've given up on this yet! :D
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