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botanistlester · 7 years ago

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Bury Your Flame (3/3)

Summary: After receiving a dragon egg when his grandfather passed away, Phil is forced to ask for help from the local dragon tamer. As he soon finds out, Dan Howell is nothing he’s been expecting. Infuriating, ludicrous, and completely lacking respect, Dan is everything Phil hates. But Phil will do anything to make his grandfather proud, even if that means getting help from the local cluck. Word Count: 17,366 / 45k Warnings: Blood/gore, angst, threats, major injury A/N: Chapter warnings include violence, blood, mentions of throwing up, amputation, and ableism. Ahhh it's finally done!!! At long last! I can't believe it! I've been working on this fic since last June so it feels a bit unreal! Thank you so much for your patience in getting the last chapter up, I had a few things come up that were unexpected so I wasn't able to get it up as soon as I would have liked. I'm just glad I was able to upload it at all! Thank you so much to @dandelionisonfire for your endless support and betaing. I could not have done this without you! I hope you guys liked this fic as much as I did.

part one | part two

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The trek to Dan’s house was a rather long one, both because they didn’t have Dan with them, and also because they were traveling by foot instead of horse and carriage. There wasn’t much talk between them, mostly because Phil was trapped in his own head, worrying about things that he couldn’t change and wondering if he would truly be able to change his father’s mind.

When they arrived at Dan’s hut, his attention was immediately brought to the dragons grazing in the garden, followed by castle guards ransacking the entire place. Looking through his belongings, tearing apart his furniture, searching for anything that would peg Dan as guilty. Ducking behind a tree to watch, Phil could tell by the way that they were yelling at each other from across the yard that they were getting frustrated.

If they had thought they’d find something, they were truly imbeciles. Even if Dan were the culprit, he wouldn’t hide his things in such plain sight.

Phil turned to Lennyx, staying low and locking eyes with her. “I’m going to try to get the attention of Dryas,” he whispered. “We can’t let them know we’re here or I might get in a fight with the guards.” It was supposed to be a joke, but it came out flat.

Lennyx nodded her approval and Phil took that as his chance to start sneaking around. He was hyper aware of his surroundings, looking for any possible way that he could get caught in order to avoid those spaces. He mainly snuck through the bushes, sticking his head out every once in a while to see if Dryas was nearby. She wasn’t.

Phil was growing antsy, wondering if maybe she had been taken into custody. He couldn’t imagine that they’d get ahold of her so quickly due to her size and power, but perhaps the guards could surprise Phil for once.

The worry dissipated when he found her drinking water out of a stream by the mountains. She was a bit further away from the cabin than the other dragons Phil had seen, so the guards were still farther away, searching for notes or hidden plans that they wouldn’t find. It was a perfect chance for Phil to get her alone and speak with her.

“Dryas!” Phil hissed from the bushes. He was only kind of confident that he could actually communicate with the beasts, only ever having talked to Atlas before and occasionally Ophelia. Dryas continued to graze so Phil cleared his throat and tried again, slightly louder. That seemed to do the trick, because Dryas lifted her head and stared right at him, her black eyes causing a shiver to crawl down his throat. He felt like she was staring through his soul. He gestured her forward. “Come speak to me. But stay inconspicuous. I don’t want the guards to see me.”

To his surprise, Dryas walked over to him, starting to eat the grass by the bushes that he was in. From here, he could see the way the sun glinted from her scales and feel the hot breath from her mouth. She didn’t say anything so Phil took that as his cue to go on, even with Lennyx staring at him as though he’d grown two heads.

“The guards have accused Dan of murder and he’s currently being kept in the dungeons until tomorrow, when he will be hanged.” Dryas perked her ears and her scales stood up on end but she did not say anything yet. “Apparently a dragon had murdered a bunch of people yesterday morning. Since Dan is the only one nearby who knows how to train the beasts, they believe he is guilty. The dragon was large and red and breathed fire, so they believe he used you to do so. I do not believe Dan or you could do anything of the sort so I am trying to prove to them that they are wrong. Do you know anything about this?”

Dryas lifted her head and huffed, snuffling at Phil’s hair. She sniffed him and Phil stayed absolutely still while she did so. Lennyx pointed her sword at Dryas, but Phil halted her with his hand. Finally, Dryas sighed and leaned back. “Neither Daniel nor I were accountable for such actions,” she told Phil. Her voice, deep and rich, threw Phil off guard. He wanted to jump for joy, yell that he could understand other dragons, but he held it inside. For now. “I am too old, too weak to fly to the kingdom. My flame is dim and cannot be lit so easily. Dan’s heart is too big and fragile to plan anything out that is so horrible as to murder.”

Phil nodded in understanding. He could feel Lennyx’s eyes on him but he didn’t feel like explaining himself today. “That’s what I thought. Do you know of any dragon that could fit the description and do something like this?”

Dryas nodded and bowed her head. “Aye. Diablo. He is hiding in the Bloodmouth caves. He is dangerous so I do not recommend going by yourselves, Prince.”

“I have to do this for Dan. Is there anything I can do to convince him to give himself up and turn himself in?”

“I’m afraid the answer is not that easy. But you can try. Call upon Calypso to bring you to the caves. She can fly you and your friend there and will be able to protect you against Diablo if need be. However if he starts showing any amount of violence, I suggest you run as soon as you can and never turn back.”

Phil huffed. “I have to do this and bring him back one way or another. I will not face Dan again until he is freed.”

“In that case, I wish you luck, Prince. But don’t say I didn’t warn you.” With that, Dryas turned and made her way across the yard, choosing a nice area in the middle of the grass where the sun was casting a particularly bright circle upon. She curled up there, purring like a cat, and Phil wished he could be that unconcerned.

Phil straightened a little bit and turned to Lennyx so that he could begin to explain the plan. “Dryas said that there’s a dragon that fits the same description who lived in the Bloodmouth caves. His name is Diablo. We’re supposed to ask Calypso for help.”

Lennyx pursed her lips. “And you understood all of that?” she asked quizzically as Phil began to walk once more, scanning the area for Calypso, who he’d seen but never interacted with much.

Phil shrugged. “Dan’s taught me well, I guess,” he muttered. Dan’s name left a bitter taste in his mouth, like he was holding himself back from throwing up all over the grass. He shook his head, trying to snap out of it. He knew that dwelling on Dan right now would do nothing but hold him back. Precious daylight was being wasted every millisecond that he was not on the move.

So he trudged through, buried his inner flames in the deepest part of himself where he would access it later. He stayed focused on the task at hand, scanning the field for Calypso with Lennyx in tow. She was quiet for the most part, the strong and silent type, but Phil appreciated it especially in this moment. She was good to rely on as to not get them both caught.

At last, he found Calypso, sitting to the side of the front door. It seemed as though he’d caught a rabbit and was chewing thoughtfully on the bones, staring at the intruders with slitted green eyes and flared nostrils. Calypso was large, but not as large as Dryas. He was a deep blue colour with black and white flecks that made his feathers look like a galaxy. His wings were mainly made of feathers which then taper off towards his body into what seemed to be icicles, but were probably just elongated scales. He had four legs with long claws dug deep into the ground and long, pointed ears. Phil had heard Dan briefly discussing Calypso before, so he knew that this specific dragon harboured ice powers.

He was certainly terrifying, Phil would give him that. His slitted green eyes made him seem even more so. Phil would hate to be on the receiving end of that stare.

“There he is,” Phil murmured to Lennyx, pointing out the dragon.

He heard Lennyx inhale deeply. “He looks… dangerous.”

Phil shrugged and moved forward, glancing around to make sure the guards were all paying attention elsewhere. “Feel free to back out if need be. It won’t be held against you.”

“If you think I’m backing out, you clearly don’t know me,” Lennyx hissed back, but Phil could tell she wasn’t angry, just on edge.

“You’re very loyal and I’m lucky to have a guard who unquestioningly follows me wherever,” Phil told her sincerely. And then he spoke towards Calypso, raising his voice only slightly. Dragon ears were more sensitive than human ears, so Phil reckoned Calypso could probably have heard them all along. “Calypso! We need your help.”

Calypso glanced towards them, narrowing his eyes. There was a bone in his mouth, drool leaking onto his jaw, and Phil could see a row of razor sharp teeth. “What do you need, human?” he growled, completely unwelcoming.

Phil deserved it probably. He was the one on Calypso’s property right after his own guards showed up, no Dan in sight. The dragons all had every right to believe their master was gone due to Phil’s own hands. So he gave Calypso the rundown, told him that Dan was in possession of the King, scheduled to be hanged. He needed to get to the Bloodmouth caves to see Diablo and ask him about the murders. More specifically, how he needed Calypso’s help.

Calypso laughed and stood on his four feet. He spat out the bone and swished his tail, which had long blue spikes at the end. “And why should I help you, a mere human, after my homes have all been destroyed by human hands? After you keep destroying the things I hold close to me? I fear I do not care about the people in your dear Lilium. You’ve done nothing for us.”

Phil bowed his head and he got on his knees, showing complete submission and trust for the beast. His heart was roaring in his chest, hoping to everything that is holy that Calypso would agree no matter how much he hated humans. “I believe that you would not like to see Dan undergo an unfair death, and neither would I. I… care about him.” He didn’t know how to say that he loved Dan without sounding too gay. “Plus, it would save you guys as well. Once Dan is gone, you will surely be executed as well. If we can save Dan, I assure you that no harm will befall you and you will be granted anything that you desire.”

Calypso hummed, which sounded more like a low growl. He blinked shrewdly at Phil, and then turned towards the hut. “Stay there,” he ordered. Phil stayed put, watching as he poked it head in the hut. There was a lot of shouting on behalf of the guards in there, but Calypso seemed unbothered. He emerged again with a sword trapped between his teeth, which he then trudged forward and dropped it in front of Phil. “Take that. You’re going to need it.” He glanced back at the door, where guards were beginning to run out in pursuit of the dragon with a freaking sword. “Now hop on my back, both of you, before they can stop us.”

Phil cursed under his breath and flung forward. There was no time to explain to Lennyx as he harshly grabbed the sword, holding it in a death grip with one hand. He motioned for Lennyx to follow him, and then Calypso was bowing his head, allowing Phil to mount him. Phil grabbed onto one of his spikes, careful not to slash out with his sword, and hoisted himself onto Calypso’s back. When he was safely on top of him, he reached a hand down and helped Lennyx up as well.

The guards began to yell, now having full sight of him. Phil chuckled and glanced over at them, recognising a few of them. He smirked as Calypso began to flap his wings, the burst of air knocking the guards off of their feet.

They gaped at Phil as he rose into the sky, and then he waved heartily. “If you see my father,” he yelled to them over the sound of the wind, “tell him his son said ‘fuck you’!” And then he took the sword and pointed it at them, clinging with one hand onto Calypso. He was probably insane, but just this act made him feel more powerful than he ever had before. Sitting atop a dragon, a guard behind him, flying in the air with a sword and his hair wildly blowing around his face.

He couldn’t help but believe it’d be better if Dan could be there with him as well, though.

“That… was amazing, Phil,” Lennyx said as soon as they reached a higher altitude, away from the yelling and screaming of the guards below them.

Phil kept his eyes on the ground, watching as the guards fell over one another, trying to scramble over each other as though they couch reach them with their own two feet and hands. Phil scoffed at them, dropped the sword to his side. “It was nothing,” Phil said nonchalantly. “The most important thing is that Dan is safe. I don’t care about anything else.”

“You know,” Lennyx said a bit softer. As soft as she could while still being heard over the sound of Calypso’s wings anyways. “You’re different now than you used to be. You used to be very cold and unapproachable but now it feels like you’re warmer and full of intense love for the people you care about. I never would have thought that you’d find that in someone like Dan, but I’m glad you did. You constantly surprise me.”

Phil didn’t know whether he should be offended by the comment or grateful. It was as though she was putting down his personality but also complimenting him at the same time. He decided quickly that he was too tired to argue and just nodded his head, looking out at the horizon. “Thank you, Lennyx.” The sun was beginning to set, sinking below the mountain line, bringing Phil’s stomach with it. They didn’t have much time at all. The sky was awash with blood and Phil closed his eyes so he didn’t have to imagine it being Dan’s blood washed over the cobblestone in the village centre.

Instead he focused on the feel of the wind against his face, the flap of Calypso’s wings, the way the air was cold and thin. He focused on the weightless feeling, of how he was flying for the first time in his life. Flying wasn’t something he’d ever done; they left that to the birds, instead traveling by horseback to their neighbouring kingdoms. He’d never thought he would fly either, yet here he was, on the back of a dragon, trying to save somebody else’s world.

For a split second, time didn’t feel real and Phil felt as though he’d descended to a separate dimension.

He leaned his head forward, resting it on Calypso’s neck. He sighed and let the coolness of the scales soothe him out of his anxious thoughts and tried to focus on literally anything except for Dan.

Luckily for him, it wasn’t too much longer until Calypso started to drop from the sky, pulling his wings back and actually doing a nosedive towards the ground. Phil gripped onto Calypso’s spikes so that he wouldn’t fall as his stomach catapulted into his throat, choking him and making him gasp for air. He didn’t like this feeling at all, as though he were going to puke all over Calypso’s back, which would surely ruin him and earn him a bite to the leg.

They landed with a large crash, one that split through several trees and made the ground shake between them. Calypso didn’t even flinch, and Phil admired that he was such a strong beast, one that didn’t seem to be easily hurt. Dryas was absolutely right when she said that Calypso was the right dragon for a job such as this. “We’re here, humans,” Calypso grumped, lowering his body closer to the ground so that Phil and Lennyx could hop off of his back.

As he did so, Phil glanced around at where they’d landed and felt his hair stand up on his arms. They had landed in a forest, one that was completely dark despite the lack of leaves on the trees. The trees were all pale white, the bark peeling off into curled spikes. There was a heavy layer of ash on the ground and no visible shrubbery in sight. Turning his head to the right, Phil found himself staring at a large opening in the side of a cliff, one that towered over him to make him feel like the smallest creature in the world. He could not see inside, and there was a stench coming from it that was equivalent to raw meat.

For a moment, Phil considered just leaving and never looking back .He didn’t need love, did he? He could just go back to his fancy home and live a great life with good food and comfortable pillows. He didn’t need to be here, risking his life for somebody else by charging at a dragon that was obviously far too big for him to fight alone. Dan could make it out of there by himself, right?

But then Phil sighed and grit his teeth, steeling himself. No. He needed to be strong. He’d come so far and he couldn’t turn back now, no matter how badly he wanted to. He would never be able to live with himself if he just left Dan to die, much like Dan’s mother did to him when he was only four years old. Phil wanted to be the best person that he could possibly be for Dan, so he was going to do no matter what it took to get Dan out alive. No matter how badly he got hurt, he wouldn’t be finished until he was done with the mission or dead.

He turned to Calypso and Lennyx, smirking. Looking at the two of them, heavily armoured, made him feel underdressed. He should have thought about this, should have dressed more appropriately instead of just wearing easy to move in clothing and a chest plate, but there was nothing he could do about it now. If worst came to worse, Calypso and Lennyx would take care of it for him. “Okay, so how about Lennyx and I go inside together first. Calypso, stay on guard for now. If you hear any funky business coming from inside, then assume the worst and barge on in. We don’t know if this dragon is going to go along with us easily or make it hard for us.”

Calypso nodded and sat down. Amongst the trees, even he looked small. “Aye. I would not go in there expecting the best, though. From what I have heard, Diablo is a vicious beast. I am unsure if even Dan would be able to tame him.”

Phil’s heart sped up and he needed to just relax. How was he going to defeat such a powerful dragon if not even Dan could tame the beast? He shook his head slightly. He couldn’t think of that right now, he just had to do it. “Gotcha. I’ll be careful.”

He looked at Lennyx and nodded at her, earning him a nod back. They were both as ready as they would ever be. Lennyx wasn’t showing anything in her gaze except for sharp determination, as though nobody would be able to get past her. Phil was positive that everybody could see the nerves brimming underneath his skin, spreading through his veins like murky poison.

As they turned to make their way into the cave, a loud bang to their left alerted them to the presence of somebody else there with them. The noise was like thunder, so loud that it split the sky, and Phil automatically glanced up. His eyes widened and he immediately jumped, grabbing Lennyx and pushing her out of the way as a large tree fell right where they had been standing. They fell to the ground, a tangle of limbs and armor, and Phil felt it as his shoulder made contact with the hard forest floor.

But there was no time to waste, Lennyx immediately grabbing and his shoulder and pulling him up to a standing position once more, where they stared at the fallen tree with trepidation. Phil raised his sword in front of him, glanced around, an attempt at finding who had made the tree fall.

It didn’t take him long to find out.

A dragon stepped over the tree, coming to stand a few paces in front of them. His eyes were completely black and looked like jewels shining against dark red scales. When he breathed, smoke came out of his nostrils, and long red wings stretched into the trees. Claws sunk into the earth below, easily ripping into the ash and soil with no problem at all. He was giant, bigger than Calypso, and Phil had never been more terrified in his entire life.

“What are you doing here?” the dragon, which Phil assumed was Diablo, growled out. He huffed and Phil could feel his hot breath against his face, the way he smelled like fire and burning wood.

Phil raised his sword in front of him, backing away slightly so that the beast wasn’t so much in his face anymore. His voice came out a lot stronger than he felt, and he could hear Calypso behind him, feel how he was stood protectively behind him just in case Diablo attacked. “I came here to ask if you were the dragon who murdered people in my village,” Phil told him. “Did you or did you not come to Lilium yesterday morning and slay my people?”

There was a beat, and then Diablo leaned his head back and laughed. Black teeth protruded from his gums, purple saliva dripping down his chin. “Lilium? Is that what that dumb was called?” he mused when he stopped, shoving his face towards Phil and sniffing him. Calypso snarled and Lennyx bared her weapon at him, but Phil waved them back momentarily. “And if it was me? What will you do then?”

“You have two options,” Phil told him. He hoped he came across as someone strong, as someone who would not let anybody walk all over him. He had no doubt in his mind that he didn’t come across like that. What had happened to the old Phil, the one who was thick as steel and didn’t let fear into his heart? The one who could make peasants tremble in their shoes? Since when had this new personality taken him over and made him soft? He didn’t quite know if he liked it. “Stand on trial for your wrongdoings or be taken by force.”

“By force? Is that supposed to scare me, human? Are you trying to threaten me?”

Phil nodded, standing defiantly as Diablo breathed into his face, leaving a layer of soot on his cheeks and nose. “I suppose I am.”

Diablo growled, taking a step forward. Phil was forced to take a step backwards, bumping into Lennyx as he did so. “I don’t take orders from pitiful humans,” he rasped out, eyes lit with black flames. If Phil hadn’t known better, he would assume that he was staring straight into the eyes of the devil. “Leave my caves at once.”

“I’m not leaving unless you come with me,” Phil shot back, and then Diablo was jumping forward, mouth open as he tried to take a bite out of Phil’s flesh.

Lennyx pushed Phil out of the way this time, slamming them into the ground, and then Calypso was catapulting himself at Diablo with a loud snarl. It was a battle between fire and ice, red and blue, as they tussled on the floor. Both dragons were roaring loudly, causing the tree branches to shake and the nearby crows to squawk and fly away. Phil scrambled away from Lennyx, looking for his sword that had fallen out of his grasp. He found it only a meter away and picked it up, but there was no reason for him to because it seemed like Diablo was currently busy trying to take care of Calypso.

So he watched instead, on his feet, sword pointed towards them just in case he needed to use it. He watched as they lashed at each other, ripped through each other’s skin with their claws, nipped at each other’s throats. They were both similar in fighting styles, which was interesting because Dan’s dragons were all typically non-fighters. And yet Calypso fought with passion, with anger and danger. He used his ice powers to freeze areas of Diablo’s body and would then bite the area, causing orange blood to spurt onto the ash.

The way he fought reminded Phil of Dan, most of all. The way that they played dirty, Calypso nipping at Diablo’s back legs until he was limping. In return, Diablo would melt the ice from his skin and blow fire across his scales, turning them a shade of blue that was so dark it was almost black. It seemed painful by the way Calypso howled and fought back even more viciously, snapping his teeth at Diablo and trying to tear into his flesh.

A particularly hard bite into Calypso’s leg had him collapsing with a loud cry, struggling on the ground as Diablo’s teeth tried to rip him into pieces. It was then that Phil decided to spring for action, knowing that if he just stayed back and did nothing, Calypso would get seriously hurt.

He bolted forward, letting out a battle cry as he launched himself at the creature, sword above his head. He didn’t get far before Diablo was swiping at him, causing him to dodge out of the way, narrowly missing him by a hair strand. And then both he and Lennyx were lashing out at him with their weapons, trying to confuse him by using their size to their advantage, weaving around his legs like a couple of pestering cats.

For a moment, they were doing good. They weren’t getting hit, dodging all of Diablo’s hits so narrowly that Phil didn’t know how they were even dodging them. Even though Phil’s lungs were burning and it hurt to breathe, Phil made sure to keep running, to keep lashing out, at least until Calypso could get some of his strength back and deliver the finishing blow.

It was going fine. Up until Phil did the worst thing that he could have possibly done and tripped over his own two feet.

It happened all too quickly that Phil was blindsided by what was happening. His foot caught, proving his clumsiness, and then he was falling forward, hands flying forward to break his fall onto the ground. He never reached the ground, because suddenly there was a tight, painful grip around his leg, teeth sinking through his skin like butter. He screamed as the pain became overbearing, as white-hot stab through his flesh, bones crunching under the strength. Diablo lifted him up like that, not biting through fully even though he was definitely able to, but instead using that as leverage to lift him and throw him across the clearing.

He hit a tree at full force, but he didn’t even feel it. All he could feel was the excruciating pain in his leg, a pain so terrible that he couldn’t even put it into words. He wanted to tear his leg off, as though that would make it all better and the pain would no longer be there. He wanted to go back in time and stop himself from pursuing the dragon by himself without Dan. And if that was impossible, then fighting the dragon without tripping would also be good. But now he was crumpled on the ground curled into a ball and holding onto his leg like he could stitch himself back together with just his hands.

There was too much blood. Leaking through his fingers, dripping onto the ground and staining the ash a disgusting brown colour. He couldn’t hear anything anymore, too focused on himself that he couldn’t make sense of Lennyx when she suddenly appeared at his side, grabbing his face with two hands and screaming in his face. He could barely even see her face, his eyes blurry and the edges of his vision slowly going black, like there was ink slowly dripping into his eyes.

Lennyx turned and said something to Calypso, and Phil saw Calypso jump towards Diablo, sending a blow to his head that was so hard that Diablo collapsed to the ground, shaking his head. Then Calypso was dashing forward, bowing down and allowing Lennyx to lift Phil onto his back, keeping him in place by wrapping steel arms around his stomach.

Phil was losing too much blood; that much was obvious. He couldn’t take his eyes away from his wound, how his trousers were torn, showing the blackening flesh underneath, the deep gashes that were so deep that Phil didn’t even want to think about it. There was blood everywhere, not seeming to stop flowing, making red drip down Calypso’s scales, a bright contrast to the blue scales.

He grimaced weakly and closed his eyes. He couldn’t look anymore.

Phil woke up slowly, as though he were trying to wade himself out of sluggish swamp water. His body was sore all over and he could hardly move, his hands dead at his sides, his back pressed against something soft.

Despite having been sleeping, Phil felt exhausted. His eyes hurt and felt swollen, like big lumps of flesh on his face. He didn’t want to open them, but he could hear some hustle and bustle around him, could hear someone whispering close by but couldn’t make out the words, but he didn’t have the energy to even try.

He took a deep breath, tried to lift his head, but ended up just groaning instead. His neck hurt and his head was just as heavy as his arms and legs were. Why did it feel like there were weights on him, crushing him, keeping him in place?

The whispering stopped, and then there were footsteps. They stopped beside him and then soft fingertips were running along his jawline. Another soft whisper, this time his name in the form of a question. Probably asking if he was awake.

His tongue was thick in his mouth, practically useless as he tried to speak and found that he couldn’t. He swallowed and tried again but only another groan came out. He applauded himself on the back for that. At least he was able to make noise, because he couldn’t seem to do much else.

It took him a long time before he was able to move even slightly. At first, it was just a flick of his fingers, followed by a sharp inhale from the person beside him. Then he could scrunch his eyebrows together, could move his wrists, move the toes of his right foot. He fluttered his eyelashes, attempting to open his eyes, and it took him another few tries to actually open them.

He squinted against the bright lights that blinded him. Why was it necessary to shine a light in his face while he was asleep? That totally defeated the purpose of sleeping. Yet he stared at the light anyways, blinking heavily, trying to sort his thoughts out.

He could tell that he was on a bed of some kind. It wasn’t his bed, that’s for sure. It was cushioned, but not nearly enough. Quite lumpy, in fact, as though the mattress was lying on metal. He found that the reason he couldn’t move his body was because his arms, chest, and thighs were bound to the bed in a restricting way. He tried to yank on them but found that they were too tight and he was too weak to be able to do actually move against them. He couldn’t really feel anything below his waist, his body somewhat numb, but he figured that it was probably just because he had been laying for a long time. That happened sometimes.

When he turned his head slightly, he made eye contact with a pair of brown eyes. They were staring at him intently with worry, the boy’s face in a light frown. His hair was a mess on the top of his head. Phil wondered if his hair was also a mess. Why was this man standing at his bed? Where was he? Why was he not in his own bed?

The man stepped forward slightly and bent down so he could look closer at Phil. He cleared his throat lightly. “How are you feeling, love?” he asked, and suddenly everything rushed at Phil with full force. “You’ve been asleep for four days.”

Dan. This was Dan. The man whom he loved, the man who had gotten put in jail for something he didn’t do. Phil recalled a dragon being mentioned, a fight with his father, a kiss. He recalled going to actually see the dragon and fighting it as well. He remembered being bitten and thrown. He didn’t remember much else.

Phil shook his head and furrowed his eyebrows, really looking at Dan now. His arms were cuffed in front of him and there were a couple of guards standing behind him against the wall. Dan looked cleaner than Phil last saw him, wasn’t in a jail cell, was alive. “Where are we?” Phil rasped out, tugging at his binds. “Why are you here? Why am I strapped to the bed? Where’s my father?”

Dan let out a long sigh and there was something off about his facial expression. He was smiling gently, far too gently, an expression that Phil had never seen on him before. Yet, something about that grin was tight, as though he was stressed out, holding something back. Phil wanted to hit him, to tell him to just spit it out already, but his hands were bound and there was no way he would be able to.

All he could do was stare at Dan, panic welling in his chest because there was something wrong, something that Phil couldn't help with. “Phil,” Dan breathed and then leaned in, pressing a gentle kiss to Phil’s head. They heard the slice of metal as swords were pointed at Dan, to which Dan turned a hard glare at them and told them to mind their own business. When they lowered their swords - after confirmation that this was fine by Phil - Dan slowly laid down and wrapped himself around Phil’s body. He was gentle, too gentle, practically spooning Phil’s side and laying his head in the crook of his neck.

Phil could feel Dan’s breath against his skin, a gentle reminder that he was here, that he wasn’t dead, that Phil wasn’t dead. Or was he? Was this heaven? Was Dan the person to greet him to the afterlife? “Are we dead?” Phil whispered, turning his face to nuzzle his nose against Dan’s forehead. The movement made his bones crack but it was worth it.

Dan laughed but his voice was watery and thick with tears. “Not quite, I’m afraid,” he mumbled out, trying to sound teasing, but only sounding small and pathetic. “I suppose I should update you.”

Phil would nod, but that hurt too much, so he just said a small, “yeah.”

Dan kept his face buried in Phil’s neck as he spoke, voice muffled by his shirt. He didn’t have his arm around Phil’s stomach, but it was clutched in the blanket at Phil’s side. Maybe he was just afraid to hurt him too badly. Phil was just happy to have him like this. “You disappeared for a long time to go fight a dragon on behalf of me. When you were finally brought back to the kingdom, you were completely unconscious and you were losing so much blood after being bitten. Lennyx tried to explain that you’d gone to fight Diablo to set me free, and it was rather convincing considering you were passed out from blood. So as you were getting some… surgery done,” Dan hesitated on the word and Phil was too out of it to stop him and ask what that was about, “your father came to my cell and told me that my execution was suspended for a while, as well as my holding in the cell. He told me I was able to see you in the healing room and I was able to sleep in a guest bedroom, but I have to be cuffed at all times and I have to be heavily guarded. At least until you can give your side of the story and propose another option.”

Phil closed his eyes and hummed. “Good, that’s good,” he replied dreamily. “And Diablo? What are we going to do about him?”

“I could probably train him if your father would let me. But we have to hold the suspension until you’re all better.”

“All better!” Phil scoffed, eyes flying open so he could glare at the ceiling. “I am all better! I’m peachy keen! I feel great!” To show this, he wiggled his entire body. He wiggled his arms, his waist, his head. His legs were still numb, but if he concentrated enough he could move them. Wait no, he could move one leg.

He tried to wiggle the other leg, thinking hard about the area and telling his muscles to obey him. His thigh moved slightly, but as it did, excruciating pain shot up his leg and through his entire body as though he’d just gotten an arrow shoved into his knee.

He screamed, tried to move his arms to put pressure on the area that hurt, but he couldn't. He lifted his head and glanced down at himself, trying to see why his leg was hurting so much. It didn’t really do much because there was a blanket over his body, but the area where his left leg should be was surprisingly empty.

He gaped for a moment, too shocked to think, too shocked to act, and then he began to thrash his body. He wanted to get out of these restraints, wanted to shove back the covers and show himself that his mind was just playing tricks on him. He had just gone through some terrible trauma, of course he’d be freaked out about that. He didn’t actually lose a leg. How ridiculous would that be? A prince without a leg! He couldn’t even imagine!

Gentle hands on his shoulder pushed him back, his vision filled with nothing but Dan all of a sudden. Dan was frowning sadly, eyes melancholic and full of pain, as though he knew exactly what was happening and why Phil was losing it. “Hey look at me,” Dan said calmly. Phil looked at him, vision unsteady, blurry. “It’s okay. It’s okay. I’m here for you and you’re going to be okay. We’re going to get through this.”

“Dan.” Dan stopped, closing his mouth with a grimace. Phil took a deep breath. “Where the fuck is my leg?”

The question made Dan’s eyes begin to tear up, his eyelashes sticking together with the droplets. “Diablo’s bite was really bad, Phil,” he whispered.

“So they cut off my fucking leg?!”

Dan shook his head, then did a weird thing where he tried to nod and shake his head at the same time. Then he was full on nodding. “It was either that or you didn’t make it, love. It was the only option.”

With a burst of anger sidled with fear, Phil exploded. His chest was on fire, his entire face was red. His eyes were wet and his teeth hurt from gritting them. His entire body hurt. What kind of prince was he? “A prince!” he laughed aloud. “A bloody prince! Can you believe it? Can you believe that I can still earn the title of a prince when I’ve screwed up so badly that I lost a leg? How good of a son I must be! How wonderfully proud of me that my parents must be! And how sorry you must feel, knowing you have to spend your days with a broken prince. If you wanted to back out now, I wouldn’t blame you. You deserve better than this.” Phil nodded to his body, eyes catching on the flatness around where his leg was supposed to be. From what he could see, it seemed he didn’t have a leg after his knee.

Dan made a pained noise that kind of sound like a growl, his eyebrows furrowed. “I know that you’re frustrated and upset. You have every right to be. But don’t you dare think I’m going to leave you or that I deserve better than you just because you lost a limb. My feelings for you aren’t as shallow as you seem to think they are.” He seemed hurt, sitting on the edge of Phil’s bed without touching him. His face was crumpled and it was almost like he was trying to hold back tears.

Immediately, Phil felt bad. He didn’t mean for his words to come out like that, of course he didn’t. He was just not in a good space right now. Who would be, after losing a limb? There was a feeling in his chest as though he was going to explode, his heart beating so fast that he wondered how it hadn’t stopped beating completely. He swallowed down the bile rising in his throat and tried to reach out for Dan. He couldn’t. “Dan,” he whispered instead. Dan hummed but kept his head downturned. “I’m scared.”

And that was when Phil truly broke down.

Before, he was angry. He was blaming himself for not being able to protect himself or the person he loved. He was angry because there was no way he could protect his people when he became king if he couldn’t even protect himself, if he couldn’t protect Dan. He was useless.

Now, he was just sad. Losing his leg felt like he was losing a part of himself. He wanted to be the best person that he could for Dan, and he didn’t know how he would be able to live up to those expectations when he was now only half human. He could feel a hole begin to gape in his chest, a feeling of emptiness, and he didn’t know how to deal with that.

The way that he dealt with it, apparently, was by taking in a deep breath and then letting it out with an onslaught of tears. Like a dam broke, Phil couldn’t stop himself from crying. He was full on sobbing, choking on his tears, his breath, trying to reach for Dan to just hold him, but he was strapped to the bed with nowhere to go. He felt hysterical, like he couldn’t calm down. He felt like the world had dimmed and cast him into darkness, stripping away everything good in his life piece by piece.

Like a spot of sunshine in the gloomy world, Dan was hugging him, crushing Phil to his chest as best as he could when Phil was strapped down. His arms were under Phil’s shoulders and his face was buried in his neck again. He rubbed his sides, whispering that everything was going to be okay, that he was going to stay with him no matter what, that they were going to figure this out together. Dan told him that while he understood Phil’s worrisome thoughts, that his newfound disability didn’t make him any less of a prince, didn’t make him any less worthy. He told Phil of all the great things that disabled people had achieved in the past, and it made Phil think that maybe, maybe everything would turn out okay.

“I need to see,” Phil gasped out. “I need to see what I look like.”

“Phil…” Dan started warily. “Do you think that’s the best thing for you right now?”

Phil shook his head. “I need to see. I need to see what I look like, Dan. Please.” He needed to tell himself that this was real, that this wasn’t a nightmare, that things were going to be different from now on.

Dan sighed sadly and sat up. His eyes were so red that he looked like some sort of dragon himself. A sad dragon, maybe. When he stood up, he bit his lip, staring down at Phil, at his leg, like he was thinking about what to do. He ran a hand through his hair. “Okay,” he said. And then, “okay,” again. With quivering hands, he reached over Phil’s body and slowly brought the blanket up, rolling it up so slowly that Phil wanted to yell at him to just hurry up already and quit building it up. He didn’t, though. He couldn’t talk.

When the blanket was fully lifted, revealing Phil’s leg - or, lack of leg - Phil felt dizzy. He inhaled, staring at the empty space, at the bruising around his knee which tapered into nothing. Phil took in a few more deep breaths. It was okay. He could deal with that. He had no leg. But that’s fine.

He threw up over the side of his bed, all over the floor.

“Oh dear,” Dan said automatically. He grabbed a tissue off of the side table and started to clean. It didn’t really do much, but it was a start. “Are you okay?”

Phil glared over at Dan. “Does it fucking look like I’m okay, you fucking fuck?” he asked sarcastically.

Dan hummed and looked him over with a frown. “No, I suppose not. But you do seem like you’re feeling better if you can joke like that.”

That was slightly true. Puking always made him feel a bit better because it made him feel less nauseous, made him feel physically lighter. He hated throwing up, thought that there was nothing worse than that. He may have to change that opinion because losing a leg was pretty bad, but at least he was done throwing up. He scoffed and tilted his head back to glare at the ceiling. “Maybe my sarcasm is just a coping mechanism,” he muttered, which was also true. “Where’s my father? I want to speak with him.”

Dan froze and stared up at him from the floor where he was still trying to clean up with a single tissue. Did he not understand that that wouldn’t work? That he needed to use more than just a single tissue to clean up a mess like that? “Your father? You want to speak with him?”

Phil grit his teeth. “Guards! Go get the King for me, please.” As one of them scrambled out the door to fulfil his request, Phil turned his head to look at Dan. “And you. Provide me with cuddles immediately.”

With a light laugh, Dan abandoned the tissue on the floor. He walked over to another room for a second and Phil heard a sink running before he was returning and gently lying next to Phil. He laid with Phil much as he had before, head in Phil’s shoulder and body spooning Phil’s side. Because his hands were still cuffed, he couldn’t do anything with them aside from bury them into Phil’s blanket. He sighed comfortably and pressed a kiss to Phil’s collarbone, just a small one that made his skin buzz with electricity.

“It’s going to be okay, right Dan?” Phil asked quietly.

Dan nodded and gave his confirmation by nuzzling his nose into Phil’s neck. “Of course it’ll be okay. We’re Dan and Phil. We can get through anything.”

Phil could feel his chest squeeze and he willed himself not to cry again, instead laughing wetly. “God, when did we get so cheesy?”

“It’s supposed to be cheesy,” Dan murmured. And then they fell quiet, drinking in each other’s presence.

Since Phil had woken up in a state of confusion, his thoughts had been going too quickly from one thought to another. He hadn’t had time to really think about anything, to be thankful that they were both alive, that Phil’s father seemed to finally be sparing Dan’s life. Phil was still in a state of shock about his own limb, but it could have been worse. Much, much worse. He could have been dead. He could have lost Dan. He could have lost Lennyx.

Everything that could have disappeared in an instance was still here. Dan was in his arms, Phil was (mostly) intact. Maybe things could work out still. Maybe his leg should have been the least of his worries.

Their quiet time was interrupted by the door opening and Phil’s father walking inside. Dan tried to straighten up immediately, but Phil turned his head and bit his shoulder, showing that he wanted him to stay. He did, but he kept his eyes on alert, staring at the King warily.

Phil and his father gazed at each other for a long time, both frozen. He didn’t really know what he wanted to say, and it seemed as though his father was in the same boat. It was obvious that the King had been under immense stress, hair a mess, eyes red and cheeks blotched. He sniffed and wiped his nose with his sleeve, which he never would have done before.

Finally, the King let a few tears fall as he walked over to his son. He engulfed both Phil and Dan in a hug, one that was careful because Phil was hurt, but a grand one nonetheless. “I’m so glad that you’re safe, my child,” the King whispered. “I should have listened to you from the start and this would not have happened. I’m sorry for ever doubting the two of you.”

Now, Phil was tearing up as well. All of his anger at his father seemed to melt away, replaced with guilt and ultimate sadness. He wanted to hold his father back, wanted to wrap his arms around both of his favourite people. “Can you unlock my binds so I can properly hug you?” Phil chuckled, voice cracking.

The King laughed and nodded, pulling a key out of his gowns. He made quick work of Phil’s binds, letting Phil stretch out his body, bones cracking after not moving for so long. And then Phil was properly wrapping his arms around both Dan and his father, holding them close, afraid to let them go as though they would disappear.

“Don’t think that this is your fault,” Phil told his father. “You were only doing what your citizens deemed best at the time. I was the one who decided to go out and fight that dragon, not you. You wanted to protect me and protect your kingdom. Even if you did so in the wrong way, I know you were only trying to do what was right.”

They hugged for a long time, just dwelling in the fact that everybody was okay, that ties were mended, that there was no more bad blood. Of course, Phil felt guilty for how he had reacted, even though he knew it was well deserved. Either way, he was glad that his father had apologised because it gave him some peace of mind.

When his father parted from their embrace, he sat on the edge of the bed opposite from Dan, who immediately settled back into Phil’s side. This time, Phil was able to put an arm around him and keep him close. “So you saw the dragon, right? And it wasn’t Dan’s?”

Phil shook his head. “Aye. This dragon was large and red and breathed fire, but his name was Diablo and he is incredibly violent. I asked him to leave Lilium alone and he did not listen, had put up a fight instead.”

His father nodded and sighed in relief. “Okay. Okay, that’s great. I believe you.” He turned to look at the guards, urging them forward. “Release the tamer’s cuffs please.” As they did so, he began to address Phil once more. “I was so worried that I’d lost my only son. If something like that had happened, I would have never forgiven myself.”

Phil pursed his lips and closed his eyes. He was suddenly exhausted. “It’s over and done with, so let’s just move past that, yeah? Let’s talk about what’s going to happen now that I don’t have a leg and I can’t move without feeling like death is greeting me.”

“Right.” The King leaned back, ran his fingers over Phil’s leg. “Our best scientists are working with technology right now to see if they can make a fake leg for you. We’ve never tried anything like this before so it could be years before you have something like that. In the meantime, we have medications and a physical therapist to help to get back on your feet- erm, foot.” He corrected himself. Phil laughed bitterly. “We have a wheelchair to help you get around, but other than that, nothing’s changed. You’re just going to have to be bedridden for a while until your wound fully heals.”

Phil nodded. He didn’t expect any less. He hadn’t even expected to be able to have any sort of limb there anymore, already accepting that this was going to be his life now. For now, he would just have to learn how to live his life like this. With so much support on his side, it didn’t seem as scary anymore. “And Ophelia and Atlas? Can they be released now?”

“Yes. I had the guard go get them for you so it shouldn’t be too much longer until they are brought here.”

Just as he said that, the door burst open once again and an excited, large, dragon was flinging itself at Phil. Phil let out a frightened scream as it landed on his body, beginning to lap at his cheeks and his hair and every piece of skin he could reach. It felt like Phil’s chest was getting crushed and the pain was back in his body tenfold. It was like a cat stepping on his balls except ten times worse because this was a dragon over a hundred pounds and his claws were gripping at Phil’s soft stomach, trying to keep leverage. “Atlas!” Dan scolded, pushing him away. “You’re hurting him, you big oaf. If you want to be close to him, sit at his side, not on top of him.”

Atlas bowed his head and apologised, curling up in a ball by Phil’s head and resting his chin on Phil’s forehead. It was awkward because he was so large that he was hanging off the bed, but he didn’t seem uncomfortable, so Phil didn’t make him move. Ophelia, on the other hand, was sitting on Dan’s shoulder, licking his ear in a way that made him giggle. He whispered a few words to her, something that sounded like he was saying he missed her, that he was glad she was okay.

Phil smiled sleepily, suddenly tired. Even though he’d practically just woken up, he had already been through an onslaught of emotion. He had been scared, filled with sorrow, had been calm, then panicked, and now he was just ready to sleep. He allowed himself to drift, thankful that everything seemed as though it would be okay, that things were finally falling into place.

But most of all, he was glad that the family seemed to be back together.

The days went by slowly and Phil felt like he was dying of boredom. He couldn’t really do anything when he was lying there like a useless lump, waiting for his body to heal, and there was nothing for him to do aside from read and sleep and occasionally cuddle with Dan.

Dan was great. He came every day to tell Phil stories, stories about his life, stories that his mother used to tell him, gossip that he’d heard around the kingdom. And when Phil was able to get out of bed, able to move around as much as he possibly could, Dan was right there by his side, carrying him around on his back or helping him whenever he stumbled with his crutches.

Phil found that he liked when Dan helped him bathe the most. Apparently when he wasn’t feeling good, he craved the intimacy of another person at all times, and bathing together was a good way to sustain him.

The first time Dan drew Phil a bath, he had been embarrassed. He’d needed help getting out of his clothes and into the tub, but he had never been naked in front of another person since he’d been a child. He felt too exposed, too vulnerable, and so he asked Dan to join him, needing that little push to make him comfortable.

The thing is, he wasn’t nervous about his body. He knew that he had a nice body, lean shoulders, a little tummy that definitely deserved kisses from a certain person. He was mainly nervous because Dan was going to be looking at him, looking at all that he was. Dan’s history, one could say.

Dan agreed to his proposal easily, giving Phil a light kiss. It was enough to calm him down a little bit, his shoulders relaxing as he allowed himself to strip from his robes, sitting on the floor so he didn’t have to struggle to stand. The cold air hit his chest like a icy fingers tracing over his skin. He lowered his lashes and looked at the marble flooring as he released his clothing onto the floor. He could feel his cheeks turning red with heat, could feel Dan’s eyes on him, and he didn’t want to see his reaction. Was he thinking that Phil’s body could be better? Was he liking what he was seeing? Phil didn’t know. He didn’t know if he wanted to know yet.

Before Phil really had time to think about it too much, Dan was removing his clothes as well, revealing the tanned skin of his chest. It was littered with scars, some deeper and larger, others tiny and more minor. There was a large scar that ran down the length of his side, from ribs to his hip, and Phil wondered what that could have possibly been from. It was easy to see that Dan was no stranger to the wrath of an angry dragon, and yet he still loved the creatures like they were his own children. Phil didn’t quite understand, but he’d like to one day.

Dan’s body was absolutely beautiful. He had scarred skin that looked a bit like connected constellations. His skin was sunkissed and toned from working in the fields and training his creatures. His hip bones and clavicles were clearly visible, and Phil didn’t think that he had a kink for bones until then, but apparently he did. His hips were smooth and rounded and his thighs seemed so soft that Phil wanted to just run his hands over them, wanted to worship Dan’s entire body from his head to his toes.

Phil gulped when Dan smirked and raised his eyebrows. “Am I making you nervous, my Prince?”

“You always make me nervous,” Phil murmured, looking up and making grabby hands at his dragon tamer. He puckered his lips as Dan reached for him, helped him up by lifting him by his armpits, and holding him close. Their chests were flushed together, making Phil blush. He’d never been naked with another person before and it was quite embarrassing, but he liked the feeling of being so close to Dan, of his hands on his bare skin, supporting him, keeping him standing.

Dan leaned forward and pressed their lips together in a sweet kiss, pulling them closer to each other. Phil couldn’t breathe. All he could feel was Dan surrounding him, his warmth, his breath against his lips. It was innocent for the most part, no tongue involved, just a gentle kiss that told Phil how much Dan adored him. Aside from the fact that they were naked, there was nothing sexual about it. Phil was living for it. If he could just stay like this forever, he would be happy.

But his leg was getting tired from standing on it, his thighs starting to shake, so Dan pulled away with a huffed laugh and gave him the fondest expression Phil had ever seen on him. “Let’s get you cleaned up,” he murmured, nuzzling their noses together. “You’re a mess.”

“I’m not a mess, thank you very much,” Phil grunted, but he allowed Dan to help him into the bath, setting him on the side of the tub and holding him up as Phil swung his body around and sank into the warm water. He hissed as the hot water nearly singed his skin off, but it was a nice sting. It’d been a long time since he’d been able to take a bath, mostly cleaned up with a cloth in his own bed. So this was nice, this was much needed.

Dan followed closely, settling behind Phil so he could wrap his arms around Phil’s stomach and hold him close to his chest. “I made this water too hot,” Dan grumbled, wincing a little bit as he completely submerged.

Phil shrugged. “I like the feeling of my skin being burned off,” Phil replied sarcastically. “Couldn’t you tell? After I got my own leg burned off? It’s a kink of mine.”

Dan splashed some water at him. “You’re the worst person in the world,” he muttered, grabbing a cup from the side of the tub and filling it with water. He told Phil to lean his head back against his chest, and Phil did, allowing Dan to pour the water through his hair.

Conversation ceased between them as Dan began to run shampoo through Phil’s hair. Phil decided that the feeling of Dan’s fingers running through his scalp with gentle care, his nails sometimes scratching at his scalp, was the best thing in the entire world. He relaxed completed, his head tipped backwards, allowing Dan to wash out his hair and put conditioner in it. He was in absolute heaven and nothing could ruin this for him.

As Dan began to soap Phil’s body, making sure he was nice and clean all over, Phil started talking, words tumbling out of his mouth before he could stop himself. He didn’t really know where these thoughts were coming from, but he was suddenly curious, bathing with Dan making him more brave and open to discussing deeper topics. “Have you ever wanted to see your family again?” he asked quietly. “Just to see how they’re doing? If they’re alive and well?”

Dan paused his washing, making a pitiful noise in the back of his throat. It didn’t seem like he was too upset, just more taken off guard. “I suppose I’ve wondered,” Dan replied, slowly starting to wash Phil’s body again, leaving soapy suds all over his skin. It smelled like fancy lilac and vanilla, which made Phil hum with the familiar comfort of it all. “I’ve wondered how they’re doing. If they’re alive. If they think about me ever, if they think I’m dead. For a long time, I was pretty angry at them for what they’ve done to me, how they just abandoned me like that in the mountains. I don’t quite understand why they would do something so feeble if I was going to die anyways. So I suppose I’d want to meet them again just to get a little closure, you know? Just to ask them why.”

Phil nodded and slid further into the water, washing away the soap and watching as it made bubbles rise to the surface. He expected nothing less. He would assume that Dan would be pretty angry with them, but would have questions that only they could answer and would want to know how they were doing. If he was the last Howell alive. “I can understand that,” Phil murmured quietly. “I can’t imagine how hard it would be to just keep wondering your whole life.”

Dan stopped soaping Phil’s body and they relaxed instead, his arms around Phil’s tummy and his chin on his shoulder. He pressed a light kiss to Phil’s neck and squeezed him tightly. “It stopped being so hard,” Dan told him honestly. “I found a new family, with you and my dragons.”

The admittance made Phil fond, his cheeks blazing red, and he cuddled into Dan’s chest, soaking up his warmth. He figured he could stay here the whole day if possible, if the water wouldn’t get cold, if they didn’t have obligations. “You’re a cheese.”

“I’m your cheese.”

“Sadly I’m lactose intolerant. I don’t want your cheese.”

Dan bit his shoulder in response, leaving imprints behind, and Phil was smiling so widely that his cheeks hurt. He was happy in that moment. Despite all of the bad things that had happened, he was happy. He thought he could be happy like this, if he was by Dan’s side, nothing else mattering to him. He needed to start doing things for himself, needed to start living his best life. He’d started that mantra when he’d first started courting Dan, and he was going to keep trudging on no matter what.

With Dan by his side, he felt like he could do anything.

The days moved on. After a few attempts for Dan to talk some sense into Diablo, the King decided it would be best if they banish him from the land, using all of Phil’s dragons to drive him away. Phil feared that he would return, but the dragons promised to protect the Kingdom to prevent that from happening.

Phil was finally getting used to life as a disabled man. His father had made him these fancy golden crutches to be able to get around, but he much preferred riding on Atlas everywhere he went. The dragon was getting big. Too big. Sometimes he had trouble getting through doors, but he managed. He became Phil’s trusty steed, helping Phil out by moving him from place to place when he struggled with his crutches or when he was just being lazy.

There were the good days, and there were the bad days. The good days composed of laughing and sitting with Dan on the mountains. Dan would show him all of his favourite caverns, would pick berries from the trees, and they would have mini picnics with the food they found, the fish they caught in the rivers, the mushrooms they picked. The bad days were bad, but Dan was still there. When Phil woke up screaming, his vision filled with fire and fangs and blood, Dan would be by his side, holding him to his chest and assuring him that everything was okay, that he was safe. Sometimes Phil’s leg would cause him so much pain that he could barely think, curling into a ball on his bed and crying until there were no more tears left and his face was swollen. These were the days that weren’t easily cured or forgotten, but he got through them, kept trying to live on, and slowly it started to get easier.

After a long time of living like this, it became clear to Phil that he didn’t want to separate from Dan. They were comfortable together, trusted each other with their lives. They could both lean on each other when they were having a bad day, and they became each other’s strength when all was weak. Dan was the single rose blooming amidst a field of dandelions, casting Phil’s world with unexpected beauty and peace that he’d been searching for his whole life.

It was apparent that Dan felt the same way, spending the majority of his time with Phil. He showed it through his small touches, the way he would brush their noses together and sigh deeply, eyes closed like he was thanking the gods for giving him such a precious gift. He would show it by bringing Phil small gifts that he’d found in the mountains, everything from small crystals to fossilized creatures, immortalized in stone. He would show it by kissing Phil softly, lips a simple whisper against Phil’s skin, a drastic difference to the typical wildness that he always tried to show off.

With each passing day, Phil longed for a mundane life where he could just run away with Dan, live in the mountains with their dragons, and be truly and utterly happy. He wanted to live away from responsibility, away from the kingdom, and just live, free to be himself in any way that he can.

With Dan. That was the important part in this whole fantasy of his. If Dan wasn’t involved, then Phil didn’t want that.

He brought it up to his father nonchalantly over dinner, staring into a bowl of lavender soup. Normally this was his favourite dish, but he was just stirring the liquid around in his bowl, watching the purple liquid splash onto the porcelain sides. His father had asked what was wrong, and Phil couldn’t keep his fantasies inside of his head anymore, instead blurting it out for everyone to hear. His father, his mother, the maids.

His parents made surprised noises in the back of their throats and they were quiet for a long time, staring at each other. Phil’s known them for long enough now - his whole life - to know that they were having a full conversation with that look. He continued to stir his cooling soup, lost in his own train of thoughts, wondering if maybe he shouldn’t have brought up the fact that he wanted to run away with his person at all.

But then his father, calm smiles, a hand reaching over to put his palm over Phil’s own trembling fingers, told him that they understood. Told him that they had an idea, one that Phil could follow through with if he wanted to, as long as Dan was okay with it as well.

Phil’s heart swelled with feeling, his eyes watering, and then he was crying into his soup while his mother came behind him and wrapped her hands around his shoulders, whispering how proud of him that she was. Phil had never been quite a cry baby ever, but he found that he was grateful for everything that his parents did for him, so overwhelmed with it that he was sitting at the dinner table with fat tears rolling down his cheeks because he finally figured out what happiness felt like.

He brought the idea up to Dan that night, while they were eating wildberry ice cream and watching the sunset, casting bright pinks and oranges in the sky like a watercolour painting. Dan’s body was a warm presence against his own, their shoulders pressed together. Atlas was halfway laying on Phil’s leg, occasionally licking into his bowl of ice cream, and Phil had given up on pushing him away a while ago. He ended up holding his spoon out for Atlas to lap at in between each of his own bites, that way they could share the damn ice cream the right way.

Phil had turned his face into Dan’s shoulder, nuzzling into him and pressing a light kiss there. His heart had fluttered in his chest as he thought about what he and his parents had talked about only hours before. Then, he was putting the bowl onto the ground, giving it up to the claws of Atlas, as he crawled onto Dan’s lap. He hugged him tight and Dan put his bowl on the ground as well, that way he could weave his arms around Phil’s waist.

They stayed like that for a moment, breathing in the scent of each other’s skin, until Phil couldn’t hold it in anymore and quietly asked Dan about his parents’ idea.

The look Dan gave him was raw, full of complete and utter adoration. His eyes sparkled in the evening sky, more beautiful than the sunset overhead, and his face was filled with awe. “You’d want to do that?” he asked, and Phil was nodding without a second thought. As soon as his parents had brought up the possibility of Phil living together with Dan on Rose Mountain, Phil hadn’t considered any other options.

There were a few more precautions, thanks to Phil’s standing, and he mentioned that next, his hands beginning to shake with both excitement and nerves. “If we wanted to do that, we’d have to go through a binding ceremony, though. Since I’m a Prince, it wouldn’t really look good on me if I ran away with some guy, you know? So a binding ceremony would help justify it, I guess. Basically it’s just us promising our souls to one another, that sort of thing. But if you didn’t want to do that yet, I wouldn’t be upset, I know it’s sudden-.”

Dan cut him off with a soft kiss, completely ignoring Atlas when he stole Dan’s bowl of ice cream as well. “Stop talking,” Dan breathed against him. His hands were rubbing soothing circles into the small of Phil’s back, and it made Phil shut his eyes and swallow, trying to slow his breathing. “You don’t have to use the moving out thing as an excuse to bind our souls together, my Prince. Even without the aspect of you moving to Rose Mountain with me, I’d still want to do it.”

Phil hid his face into Dan’s neck, trying to hide the emotional tears threatening to fall from his eyes with a huffed out laugh. “I wasn’t sure if you’d want to,” he replied wetly.

“How could you think that?” Dan murmured, running his fingernails down Phil’s back softly. “I adore you.”

The conversation following was one of quiet whispers, talking about their plans. Plans for the future, plans for the present. Dan asked Phil if he would be happy living a mundane life in the mountains, and Phil didn’t have to think about it before saying he would love it. They talked about what would happen once Phil’s parents passed away, how he would inevitably have to take over the family throne once more, if Dan would be okay living in a castle with disgusting politics and people watching their every mood.

Dan chuckled and shook his head at the question. “Normally? I’d hate that,” he admitted. “But since I could have you, and we would still have our Rose Mountain house, I think I could get used to it.” He said ‘our’ so easily that it made Phil’s chest physically ache, and he ended up crying once again, which made Dan start to cry as well because they were a bunch of babies and they had never thought a happiness like this would have been so attainable.

The ceremony was held only a week later.

It wasn’t big, Phil didn’t want it to be. It was held in the courtyard, away from the prying eyes of the Kingdom, only a select few able to see the binding ceremony. There was a fountain in the middle, one made specially for Dan and Phil that had a large dragon spouting water in the middle of it. Flowers were everywhere, from roses to lillies to lavender, and Phil even had a few sweet peas tucked into the pocket of his suit jacket. The sky was the colour of bluebells, the sun sitting high in the sky, and Phil could feel himself beaming from where he was sat on the edge of the fountain.

Atlas was beside him, waiting for the moment where Phil would tell him he had to stand up, and then he would be helping Phil walk across the courtyard to where a bird bath was sitting, vines crawling up the sides and feeding into the dark purple liquid sitting inside the pool. That was where the King would bind them together, and Dan and Phil would promise their souls to one another. Phil could barely look at it, his nerves getting out of hand, so he stayed by the fountain instead, distracting himself by talking to the people around him, the people who were just close friends and family.

The moment Dan showed up, the small crowd went quiet, and Phil couldn’t help but twinge his lips up with both pride and uncertainty as Dan gaped at him, gaped at the people that Phil was talking to, and then, with stumbling steps forward, Dan gasped out a small, “Dad? Mum?”

The woman who was standing next to Phil, Iris, with long brown hair cascading down her back in curls, held out her arms. “Daniel, my son,” she said warmly, and her brown eyes filled with tears that were matching Dan’s own. “I’ve missed you so much.”

And then Dan was running - stumbling - forward, almost blindly, launching himself at his family that he hadn’t seen in over a decade. Dan’s family was large, larger than Phil’s. Alongside his parents, he had five living siblings: Luna, Chai, Marigold, Juniper, and Clover. Phil would later come to find that Dan’s eldest sister, Daisy, had passed away the same night that she’d brought Dan to the mountains, and Iris had believed Dan to be lost along with her. Their second youngest son after Dan, Durian, had fallen victim to the King not soon after.

But right then, the view was bittersweet, with all seven family members hugging Dan and crying into each other. (Dan wouldn’t admit this later, but he had definitely been the one crying the hardest out of all of them). The family had been reunited after long last, and Phil hoped that this would finally ease the hole in Dan’s heart where his family should have been.

After the family finished up, Dan made his way over to Phil and brought him into a large hug, nearly crushing him. “Thank you,” he whispered into Phil’s ear, and Phil just squeezed him back harder, unable to say anything because he feared that he may start crying again.

The ceremony started not long after, Dan’s eyes still slightly swollen from his tears, but he was grinning, his entire face glowing with the sunshine. He was wearing a nice white suit that had been made especially for him, gold fabric sewn through it that made him resemble a flower. There was a violet tucked in his pocket and another one tucked behind his ear, one that Phil had placed there himself.

The King stood with them, all facing the bird bath, and he started to speak, thanking everybody for being there for Dan and Phil’s binding ceremony. He went into a long, sappy speech about how Dan and Phil had met, leaving out the tiny details about how Phil hated him, leaving out the whole murder trial thing. It made Phil want to roll his eyes, but he didn’t, instead staring at Dan with a small smile stuck on his face. Dan met his eyes and beamed back, and he was so, so beautiful.

The King told them to hold hands over the purple pool and they did so without question, Phil holding onto Atlas with his free hand for balance. Phil had seen many binding ceremonies, but never had he thought he’d be performing in one. Dan’s hand was soft in his, but Phil gripped it tight, making Dan chuckle under his breath as the King brought out a white ribbon.

“With this ribbon, I will bind you until the stars go dark and the universe is no more,” Phil’s father said, wrapping the ribbon around their hands and tying it into a bow. This part had always made Phil snicker before, thinking that it was like wrapping a present, but he wasn’t laughing now. Now, he was smiling, his heart beating so fast that he was worried it was going to give out before the ceremony was over.

When he was done tying the ribbon, Phil’s father put his hand over theirs and started to push it into the purple liquid. “The pool of purple you see below signifies the universe.” Phil knew that it wasn’t actually the universe, was really just a bunch of purple flowers mashed up in some water, but he let himself dream for a moment. “The liquid will dye the ribbon, signifying the binding of two souls. The universe is recognising that you are becoming one with each other, and that it must not tear you apart. For from now on, you will no longer be two souls, but one.” With that, their hands were submerged in the water and Phil closed his eyes, feeling the warm liquid lapping at his skin, feeling the tightening of Dan’s hand on his. He imagined that his soul really was combining with Dan’s, merging them together so they could never be apart.

After a moment, Phil’s father lifted their hands out of the pool. Their hands dripped lilac water and the ribbon was stained a beautiful violet. The King told them to each grab a ribbon end and pull, until it was falling away from their hands, sharing that even though the ribbon was now gone, their souls were still in tact. “You can now exchange gifts,” the King said.

Phil reached down to grab a box that Atlas had been holding in his mouth. He gave it to Dan and swapped it out for the box that Dan was holding out to him. Nervously, they unwrapped their presents together, and Phil let out a stunned breath as he stared down at his own gift. It was a brooch, one that was in the shape of a dragon, the dragon resembling Atlas and made out of pretty red and white jewels. In the middle, engraved in gold were two small letters, an H and an L.

“It stands for Howell and Lester,” Dan explained to him, his face red as he nervously began to open his own gift. He seemed pleased with himself, the adoration on Phil’s face showing that he had loved his present. But Phil had another trick up his sleeve, wanting to make Dan blush just as bright as he had.

When Dan finally took out his own gift, everyone gasped in surprise and Dan’s mouth fell open.

He held a very delicate crown, one that Phil had gotten made especially for him. It was made out of gold and dragon scales that Dryas had spared especially for Phil. There were rubies woven into the gold, making it look elegant, shining in the daylight sun. Phil smiled to himself as he reached across and took the crown from Dan, placing it on Dan’s head himself.

“For the new King of Rose Mountain,” Phil murmured softly, eyes twinkling. “My King.”

“You’re so sappy,” Dan told him quietly, but his cheeks were the colour of the roses surrounding them and Phil knew he didn’t mind in the slightest.

The ceremony came to an end with Phil securing it with a kiss. Normally that wasn’t a necessary means at all during this sort of thing, but Dan looked so cute with his crown on that he couldn’t help himself. Everyone around them just smiled and cooed, and they laughed when they pulled apart, Phil hiding his burning face in Dan’s shoulder.

That night, after filling their stomachs with the finest food in the kingdom and after drinking enough to make them feel dizzy, they returned to Dan’s - their - hut on Rose Mountain. Crickets chirping in the air and the soft snores of sleeping dragons greeted them, enveloping them in a soft aura of comfort.

If Phil turned around, he would be able to see the glowing lights of Lilium, the pinks and purples and golds that made up his home. He would be able to see the castle and the blur of the courtyard, awaiting for his return home. There was a certain comfort that came with it, knowing that Lilium would be there for him, waiting, until the day that he would return as King, Dan in tow.

But for now, as Phil turned and kissed Dan softly on the lips with a content sigh, he knew that this was where he was meant to be.

Home.

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