Emperor's Shadow: Chapter 26

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#118 of Scales and Honor

In which Lyyreth awakens from his slumper, trapped, alone in the belly of the beast.


Emperor's Shadow: 26

Lyyreth was roused from his restless slumber, where darkness hounded at his every moment. The waking world was no more comforting than the shapeless nightmares, he was greeted with the cold floor of a prison cell, damp stone resting against his emerald scales. The dragon groaned, reminded of his predicament, days of being held prisoner within the uniter, sustained on minimal food and water that would be brought to him in little better than bowls more suited for animals.

The dragon tugged, finding his limbs still restrained, not by leathers, but the strength of steel and chain. Without free movement his magics were denied him and they'd already proven resistant to dragon teeth. It made any resistance futile within this darkened place, only lit by a mana lantern just outside his cell. It painted his sparse quarters with long shadows, his time spent counting the soft drip of water just out of eyeshot. It would have been maddening if not to keep him distracted, mind not lingering on what had befallen his brother, what would become of him. Hope threatened to die with each passing day, hoping that Lyndis had heard his plea.

"Benevolent Scholar." Came the metallic voice that pulled the green dragon from his thoughts, dragging his attention to the construct that stood before him.

Five of them were spread out in a loose formation, each the size of a minotaur. On one arm they sported an energy crossbow, dormant but winking in the light, waiting for it's inhuman master's command. The other was a carved spear, barbed and no doubt made to pierce through a dragon's hide. Combined with the metal platting that adorned it's humanoid frame, it painted a domineering image, what could it be now?

"We have come to bring you to dinner." A human male emerged from behind the towering wall of steel, a man with a gnarled nose and a braided beard that snaked down to his chest. He was dressed in Tiamat's colors, a tunic, and trousers of emerald with gold stitching.

Lyyreth growled at such a statement, catching sight of his reflection in one of the construct's bulwark. His usual radiant self was missing both his horns, his scales all marred with dirt and dried blood, a most unbefitting look for a dragon. "Is the usual bowl of slop not good enough for tonight? What pray tell has changed?"

"Our most wise Emperor has imagined that you've been given enough time to think on your last reply, when you snapped at his snout and your talons tasted his blood."

"He took me prisoner, killed my brother and tried to do so with my friends." He tugged at his chains, making the little man back up with a yelp, "Even if he did not take my horn, my opinion of him could not sink lower."

"I imagine that is what he's trying to rectify." The man replied meekly, once it was clear Lyyreth could not swat him with his sharpened claws.

"You know, if I wanted you dead, I could have covered you with poisonous gas."

"Then I am most grateful that you have such mercy master dragon. If you'll permit me, we were tasked with bringing you to the dinner that our Emperor has laid out for you, no will not be an answer."

"Then it would appear as though I have no choice." The green dragon's snout wrinkled, tugging at his bindings.

"If you try to escape again master dragon, we will be forced to subdue you." Added one of the constructs flatly, "Just like last time, you will be stunned and left to think about your choices. Resistance is Futile."

With a groan he relented, seeing little choice in resisting. A hot meal sounded good, a nice departure from the bleakness of his present surroundings. Besides, if the great dragon had wanted him dead, he would have already done so by now. Perhaps if he were to play along, he might earn some freedom, and with that, plot his escape. With the man came other mortals, carrying buckets of soapy water and cloths as to clean his dirty scales.

While the humanoids worked, he could not help but take pity on them, men and woman dutifully working to please him, focused on their work. Days ago, they had served Drenedar, been warriors of great renown, flew with the majestic pegasai, set out to defeat a great evil. Today they were nothing more then maids and servants, jumping at the mere words of dragon kind. While part of him relished the attention to his scales, the rest of him could only be overcome with disgust at seeing them so belittled. They were nothing but pets now.

Once cleaned and dried, the green dragon was released from his restraints. It was good to stretch and fluff his wings. His newfound freedom was anything but however, as the construct's energy crossbows flared to life, reminding him that invisible chains still adorned his scales. He thanked the mortals for what it was worth before following on the heels of the first man and his squad of metal beasts.

Through the halls he was led, the ruins that he had explored days prior nothing more than a phantom memory. Carpets were spread throughout the maze of stone, bright colors of all different sorts, reminding him of tales of the castle of Entis. Tapestries flowed down from the walls, depictions of regal dragons taking their rightful place over seas of mortals. Lyyreth scowled at such lofty depictions, painting the tyrant's actions in a benevolent light. The air was fraught with the smell of the mountains, reminiscent of the forest of despair, it sent a shiver down the green dragon's spine, memories of his youth flashing before him. So long ago, playing with his brother had been, chasing one another through the many trees, it made his heart ache to imagine his handsome face, the one he'd always admired, found strength in. Now he was the only one left.

Gears clicked away as if in time with his talons, of thousands of machines working in tandem to carry this floating fortress. They were in the sky that much was certain, but where were they bound to? Lyyreth found himself pondering the thought several times, slowing his strides enough that he received several jabs in the haunches from his hosts. He hissed at them or snapped his jaws, but was warded away with the glowing, humming threat of their weapons. If he was to get into the Emperor's good graces and get some freedom, he couldn't well start breaking his things, no matter how satisfactory it would feel.

One thing was certain, that wherever they were bound would fall before the paws of the Emperor. With the ability to ensnare the mind of anyone, combined with this fortresses' nature to spread that to the countryside; he would be unstoppable, able to conquer entire kingdoms without any resistance whatsoever. This would be the beast that would direct dragon kind's future, make it one of dominance, control, placed on the backs of all mortal kind. He would bring to life all the stories that they had told, of fear, death, and destruction, validating all the conflict between their kind.

Breath, he told himself as they rounded the final corner, brought to the familiar dining hall that he and the others had explored. All he had to do was pass through one dinner, put on a face, and speak his way through this. It might not be a lot, but it was better than sitting in his cell and doing nothing. His next breath made his scales shiver, gathering the strength to face the beast wearing his brother like a skinsuit.

"My glorious Emperor, I bring your kin, Benevolent Scholar! As you can see, his scales have been tended to as you requested, molded into a much more presentable state!" The man announced as the hall's doors parted for their company.

Inside, the dilapidated hall had been reborn, forged anew at Tiamat's command. The tables spread before him were pristine and well-kept, hardly bearing the sign of magic that had been their restoration. Lights fluttered about the rafters, great and massive balls of floating flames, they crackled and twisted, reaching out with tendrils to bring their radiance to the hall below. Carvings adorned the walls of dragon kind, great beasts with their wings outstretched. They gazed down across numerous landscapes, all under their purview and control. At the center of this gilded hall was a beast of great size, Tiamat in all his horrible glory.

To Lyyreth's horror, the beast still resembled his brother, albeit a larger size. It was hard to look into the golden eyes of this towering monstrosity, a terrible weight settling in the green dragon's gut. Tiamat had seen fit to cover himself in golden trinkets, amulets around his forepaws and a great chain across his neck, they matched the bindings on his horn, setting the image of a ruling king.

"I am glad that you came so willingly. I was afraid that they would have a much more difficult time." Tiamat waved a paw to a chair across the table from him, a creation perfect for a dragon to lay their belly upon. "I imagine you tire of gruel and mere water? I know it seems harsh, but one must learn of the lowest station before they can climb higher."

"Is that why you took my horn, locked me in chains?" He replied with a grunt, padding his way over.

"Mere tools, as the humans tame a bucking stallion, so must I use such methods with a wild spirit as yours." Tiamat chuckled, "It is not your fault however, your head has been filled with false notions and beliefs since you were hatched. Fear not though, for I will teach you the proper way in the years ahead. When our subjects look to you, they will see a reflection of myself, the strength and regal nature of dragon kind made manifest."

Lyyreth clambered into his chair, settling down in the cushions that coated it. As his wings settled, he hated to admit it, comfort spread to his paws. He fought the rumble as Tiamat grabbed hold of a tankard suited for his paw, bringing it to his domineering snout and slurped down a viscous red liquid.

"Like what I've done with the place? You'll find now that it better suits our kind. It will be a shining beacon at the center of our new empire. It will bring peace, comfort, a unity unlike this mortal ruled world has known for many years."

"I'll admit, you have a way of sweeping things away, concealing them from view. You'd never know that this place was littered with corpses mere days before."

"That is the beauty of it." Sighed Tiamat, "Just think, in a few generation times, the memory of this old world will be lost. All that will remain is the one that we have built, and then it shall always be so. Dragons in their rightful place, guiding the lesser races, how it was meant to be."

"Was that how it was supposed to be, or merely how you wish it to be?"

"I like to think that it is a bit of both. We were tasked with greatness by my mother Bahamut, we are only fulfilling her vision."

"By taking control of mortals, treating them as pets?" Lyyreth asked, gesturing to the mortals now wheeling in silver plates. Each was large enough that at least four humans had to work together to set the table.

"Lyyreth, look at them, small and insignificant, hardly live a century." Tiamat mused, plucking one such servant up in his paws, dangling the man by his shirt. The man struggled for a moment, silenced by the dragon's harsh snort upon his form. "Mother wished for us to guide them, show them the way, lead in their stead."

"Yes, but you treat them as they are lesser creatures."

"They are lesser creatures." Tiamat grunted, dangling the man above him. "To use as we please, instruct, discipline, instill with our will. This is their place, we have ours, to deny that goes against the natural order of things."

He gulped as the man's feet dangled inches from Tiamat's nose, tension building of what would happen. Was the dragon going to eat him right in front of the green to prove a point? Lyyreth snorted, eyes steeled, "If you're to be winning my heart, eating a mortal in front of me is not the way to go about it."

His eyes widened, frills flaring outward as he burst out laughing. The man in his grasp breathed a sigh of relief, "You thought I was going to eat a servant? Lyyreth, he has done nothing to anger me yet. Nor would I sully my tongue with their taste." He returned the man to the floor, gently patting him on the head and sending him on his way, "Far better uses than as morsels."

Mercy cloaked in malevolence; he _was_trying to win him. Lyyreth thanked the mortals that brought him his own silver tankard, one suited for his paws. Eyes flicked to the beast looming over him with that confident grin, an expression that told he was already counting himself the victor. One horn was black instead of the gold, resting right above the crown of thorns that nestled itself around it. His eyes widened, could it be that his brother was still in there, suppressed by the spirit of Tiamat but still alive? He hid his hope with a sniff of his drink, senses teased by blackberries and the metal of blood.

"Blood wine." Tiamat rumbled, taking a slurp from his tankard, rivers of red dribbling down his chin to plop to the floor in great splatters, "I didn't think the Lumarians had the stomach for this sort of thing, but I suppose even some among the two leggers have good taste."

He had to test, see if his brother remained. "What did you think of when our mother died?"

"You mean Ossai?" The dragon scoffed, "She is not dead little one. The shard of myself has returned to it's cage, waiting for my gentle paw to reunite it."

"Did you not care for her?"

"Means to an end. She was never _real_Lyyreth, just a fragment of my mind with delusions of another personality."

"You speak of my mother." He growled. "I'd be careful."

"Oh Lyyreth, I meant not to anger you, I just speak fact. What you call your mother was me, though I suppose you won't call me mother." Tiamat chuckled, tail thumping at the little one's pinned frills. "In time though I hope we have a connection as strong as you did with her. Oh Lyyreth, the information I will teach to you, the mysteries of the world, the gods, and the world beyond. You will see that greatness is still to come, instead of souring your present with the past."

"You're going to teach me?" He rose a brow.

"Nothing anyone else could." Grinned the beast, "Knowledge lost to time, of events and magics that today could only dream of. I met the story tellers young one, the beings that crafted this plane. You will have no one of your equal save me."

"And what of Lyndis, do you think of her?"

For a moment it stilled Tiamat's tongue, his demeanor growing cold as he held the younger dragon in his gaze. As the servants finished setting out the dozen or so plates, Tiamat chuckled, control snatched back into his claws, "You'll find that she is very much alive."

"But you clawed her, left her for dead!"

"Yes, but she was healed. Not only that but she's being carried upon the wings of that female that you have feelings for." The green dragon grinned, showing off all his wicked teeth, "There is a delusion that they can defeat me, save you and stop the future from happening. Preposterous I know, but seldom do people simply accept fate unless you teach them. Don't give me that look Lyyreth, worry not, I will not be killing them before you. Take heart, they will be brought here and kept safe _just_like you, given a place at my side."

How could he have known that? Lyyreth blinked, facing down the smug expression of his host.

"You're wondering how, the why, what can happen. It's all very natural." Tiamat rolled a paw, "You were hoping to garner my favor, earn your freedom and use that against me to escape."

"I- "

"You'll lie about it, but don't waste your breath, I've seen it all."

Yet he wasn't being killed. Lyyreth could feel his limbs trembling, caught in the gaze of such a powerful beast. He was frozen as Tiamat unveiled the plate before him, several goats tied up and waiting for him. "Why...why if you knew do you have me- "

"Simple, you are no threat to me." Scoffed the elder dragon, plucking a goat with a pleased coo, it struggled in his grasp, but he held firm, "You must learn that there is no escape from fate. I have seen everything that will transpire, planned for it, molded it into shape. Your friends will arrive, they will be brought to heel and will join me at your side."

"And...if they refuse."

"They won't refuse, I have seen it. They will believe in the false notion that a rebellion can be waged against me, but they will be shown the error of their ways. Resentment will give birth to understanding, then to acceptance." He rumbled in the back of his throat as he brought the goat high, "Arcturus will swear allegiance to my paws, forced prostrate as I make sure his words are truthful, I will know him inside and out. There can be no victory sweeter than having mother's champion collared and chained to my tail, even if for a time. Lyndis will become a grand dragoness, be granted the honor of bearing my eggs. She will be happier than she's ever been."

"As your broodmother."

"Lover Lyyreth." Chuckled Tiamat, before tearing apart his meal, sending blood and guts flying in every direction.

All in a few words, Tiamat had destroyed the hope within Lyyreth's chest. He knew his plan, predicted where it would go, how could he defeat something like that? Cold creeped into his bones, hopelessness clawing at his soul, was everything for naught?

"I have poisoned your goats with galinium you know. They are quite good, it happens to cause a wonderful sensation that tickles for several minutes after it's ingestion."

"I'm...not hungry."

Tiamat snorted, "I have seen that look, of defeat in the face of something greater. Lyyreth, there is no shame to be defeated by me, the battle was over before you were even hatched! Just think of all the good you will do at my side, the wars that you will stop, the peace that you will bring! You will learn magics and study history that others could only dream of. If you worry of your friends, they will all have their place as your servants, given as much freedom as you please." He waved a paw, "This is your place."

It couldn't be.

"Are you still cross about your horns? When you've earned them, then I will return them to you, better than before."

"You...you speak to me out of the lips of my dead brother, casually dismiss my mother." Lyyreth growled, meeting his gaze, "You talk of peace, restoration, guidance, masking what you truly mean. You are going to dominate all that stand before you, bend them to your will through spells, snatch free will away from them. Can't you see that billions will die, all to make this new world?"

"Yes, and I have the will to see it done." Stated Tiamat with a grunt, "If there are those too foolish to see the way they will be brought to heel. Lyyreth, you owe these mortals nothing, you defend a corrupt system run by beings with a lack of vision. You're telling me that now it is better, that mortal kind could care for this world better than us? Look around you, think about what you've learned about Sethera and beyond, all of them are savages."

"Not all of them."

"A small number does not spare them from what they are. They are cruel, terrible beasts when they lack a strong paw. Lyyreth, they enslave, wage war and murder one another if left to their own devices."

"You do those things."

"I have purpose, a sense of vision, building an empire that will last for eons cannot not be done without breaking a few dozen eggs. What do they do? Grab hold of what they can with what limited time they possess, inflicting misery as they try to emulate a fraction of what we can do." Tiamat sighed, looking off to the distance, "I could have done far worse so many years ago, when they struck at our kind, some say I should have. I've always treated them as a parent to a disobedient child. Life for a life, if not for the other dragons and my mother I would have had it under control. You will see in time, that this world will be better off for our dominion."

"They are not evil if you leave them to their own devices. I've shared stories with them, danced with them, spent cherished time that has warmed my heart. How can you say such things?"

Tiamat sighed, "Lyyreth, they uncovered this mechanism. A creation that can amplify magic to heights they could only dream of. What did they do with it, did they build cities, did they provide food and tend to those in need? No." He growled, "They used it as a means to destroy, wipe our whole cities in the blink of an eye. How can you sit there and tell me that does not reveal their true nature. No, Lyyreth they can't be trusted with dominion, it isn't their place."

To his horror, the dragon's words were correct in certain ways. Lyyreth drooped, plucking one of the tied-up goats from his plate. With a snap he broke its neck, putting the poor thing out of its misery before starting to work on it proper. In a flash of crimson gore, he tore it apart, painting his snout and becoming a ravenous beast. The metal taste of blood was all too satisfying as he worked, stripping bones of muscle and meat. One was not enough as he moved onto the second, all under the pleased eye of his host.

Tiamat continued to speak of their right to rule, using honied words and descriptions to what would be their conquest. He laid out a way to do it with little bloodshed, something he claimed Bahamut always wished to be so. Kingdoms would be split into dragon territories, with enough space for flights to grow and flourish. Mortals would be at their command, working at behest of their draconic overlords. It all sounded so beautiful, for wrymlings to be raised without fear, a world ripe for them. Lyyreth could only take solace that in this new world, he could treat his mortals how he saw fit. It was the only control that he had.

"So, what will be our first move?" He asked finally, licking a well cleaned bone of juices and fat, "Where will we begin this new world order?"

The larger dragon rumbled, "To Struport my child, there your friends wait for my arrival. Dreadflame will lose as he always shall, your friends will submit to save their lives." Tiamat smiled, all too pleased with himself as he recounted Linneth gathering the dragon orbs for him, "You'll tend to them, soothe the sting of defeat, ensure the next transition will go smoothly."

"How will I convince them?"

"You will show them the futility of it all, that both paths will come to the same end. I have foreseen it all Lyyreth, this talk here, your friends out there. All this falls into my paws. They'll resist at first, but I am patient and with a firm paw they will buckle in time. With them as voices, they will help sway others of their kin to our side."

"You think mortals will just surrender so willingly, bow down to be our pets and servants?"

"They crave for it right now. They cling to kings, queens, attach themselves to orders and causes. Mortals all _need_a demanding paw on their shoulders, a snout to instill upon them direction and purpose. For positions over their kin, wealth, or safety, they _will_submit over time."

They finished dinner in relative silence, Lyyreth dwelling on all that had been said, what would happen. It stung with every breath, shook his scales, rocked him to his core. What could he do, he was but just one dragon, alone and without any aid. Casual looks to his jailor provided little comfort, that snout filled with such pride and confidence in his declaration. Every thought that whispered through Lyyreth's skull was filled with doubt, defeat, all he could do was cling to what he was able. When he was dismissed from the table he had his head low, hating every bit of himself.

He was no hero, no brave knight, not a dragon that others could find strength in. He was just the last one left, no fight left in him when faced with such power. Back to his cell he expected, where he would spend the rest of the trip, to his surprise, Tiamat called to him with a pleased coo.

"You think you'd spend your time locked in the dungeons my kin?" The green dragon rose with a pleased trill, sauntering to the younger dragon's side with a swish in his step. "Come, I have quarters made for you, crafted to fit the dragon that you are."

"My own quarters?"

"I can't have my own blood living in the dungeons! That is reserved for my enemies!"

His heart darkened at those words, that was true wasn't it. He may not have been actively helping the beast who'd slain his brother, but he was no longer fighting. When a wing wrapped around him and dragged him to the door he trembled, he didn't even try to claw him.

"A tower of research and study, adorned with what books and scrolls that I could find!" Tiamat beamed with a rumble in his throat, "The perfect place for my most treasured dragon."

He didn't know which was worse, Tiamat's confidence of his victory, how he strode on with a brassy voice and swishing or how he grinned and showed signs that had once been Cordenth. Or was it that with every paw step it was starting to get easier to swallow, that he was already planning to help lessen the suffering that Tiamat would bring. One thing was for certain, it made him sick.

** * * * * *

His friends would hate him, that much was certain. The fact gnawed at Lyyreth's soul for the entire trip towards what would be his tower. Even if it was to spare them the worst of Tiamat's attentions, they would not warm up to him for perhaps many years. He would have to endure their hatred, spite, the ire that would be rightfully due to him. How cruel that it was fate, destiny that was shaped before he was even a glint in his father's eye. All reason told him to be grateful that he was allowed such a gift, that he should bow his head to the dragon who made this possible, that made him part of his vision.

The longer he strode through the halls he was certain his brother was no longer in there. To casually dismiss freedom, life, and liberty as he did so was against everything Cordenth envisioned. There was a sense of self-importance, arrogance, cruelty that was shadowing every flowery word. His heart ached, the last bit of hope dying within him. Silently he mourned the passing of his oldest friend, promising to never forget him.

"Here we are, your quarters. I do hope they are to your liking, if not, we can always whip the help into shape for failing in the task." Laughed Tiamat as he cracked open the double doors with a paw.

Inside was a marvel to be sure, one that would leave Lyyreth's jaw hanging open, his paws trembling with excitement. The room was separated into three sections, two floors combined by a single staircase, gilded, and engraved with draconic runes. There was an alcove for study, connecting to bookshelves of his stature, with hundreds if not thousands of tomes spread across a multitude of shelves. Here there were chairs that were nothing more than oversized pillows, waiting to caress scales as he traversed through the scrolls or books that would draw his attention. Beside this was a pool of steaming water, sinfully spreading it's tendrils to the air, waiting to touch upon his scales.

"A bath in my quarters?" He asked softly, taking his first tentative steps, his breaths filled with scents that remined him of home.

"Of course, nothing better than to have servants scrub your scales, really work away the edge the days build upon us."

Above was the place in which he would sleep, an oversized oval-shaped bed. It's sheets were dark green stitched with gold, well suited for dragon kind. They were resistant to his talons, heavy, perfect to lay about and drift away. Scattered around the upper level were chests of various sorts, each filled to the brim with various bits of treasure. Coins, scrolls, potions, gems, each a marvel for any dragon's eye. Lyyreth's snout twitched at such a sight, uncertain why Tiamat would part with such things. The chests were joined by statues, paintings of various humans, even a rack adorned with cloaks and multicolored hats.

"This is a treasure trove." He finally spoke, gazing down upon the lower level. He spied the ceiling was exceptionally higher, made so that he could spread his wings without any difficulty. Even Tiamat had not needed to dip his head.

"One suited for my kin." Tiamat rumbled with pride, "All of it yours. To use, study, do as you see fit. If there are things more that you require, simply ask, we can get them for you."

He had expected as much, the larger dragon trying to win him with gifts, kind words and certainty over pain and suffering. One look told him that it was not far from the surface, he could see that golden gaze, of the cruel tyrant just waiting for an excuse to unleash his fury. Lyyreth gulped, "Thank you for such gifts, I will treasure them."

"Oh Lyyreth, the days for you will be wonderous." Tiamat pulled him in with a paw, nestling up beside him, scale rubbing scale, "You are seeing the birth of a new empire, the days in which you only dreamed about. No more hiding in fear, wondering if dragon hunters will slay us, dragon kind will no longer be in the decline." He sighed, eyes closing, "I can see it now, can you? The skies filled with dragons once more as they always should have been."

With a pleased rumble the larger male swept away, leaving Lyyreth on his own. Alone to think about the days ahead, his place in the world, to accept what would come. He'd parted with a gentle tap on the door, wishing him well, but leaving one last gift. The dragon had gestured to two mortals that padded their way in, bowing their heads as Lyyreth paid them attention.

One was a man of olive skin, wrapped in a dark blue loin cloth. He was barefooted, muscular and toned, his form telling of many battles and close calls with a sword. Brown eyes looked to Lyyreth with pleasure, averting when the dragon paid him attention. The bearded man dropped to one knee, "I am Sir Gerald Brightsteel of Tregaron, son of Rebecca and Brian. It is an honor to serve you great one."

The second was a kobold, wearing little more than a grey cloth around her chest and loincloth to match her human companion. It was Vishta, the one that had been traveling with Lyndis. She bowed her head, patting the satchel of various goods at her side. "We are glad to be of service." The words came with a honied coo, "Especially for one so handsome as yourself...Not as handsome as my original master however." She gave a nervous laugh as Tiamat chuckled in his throat.

Servants? The idea of it tickled the primal dragon within, almost wanting him to give a pleased warble. He held that in, knowing it was wrong, to see these two robbed of their faculties and placed at his paws. The green dragon shifted as Tiamat departed, giving the younger dragon a wink.

"They are here to service your every need; I will return to you come morning!"

That would be the day. Lyyreth huffed, wheeling about, and leaving his servants with little more than a grunt. Despite this, they followed on his hinds.

"Did we do something wrong great one?" Gerald asked.

"Was it something we said?" Vishta stuttered, "We promise to be more silent if that's the case."

"It was nothing you did Vishta." Lyyreth collapsed into one of his pillows among the library, hissing at how delightful it caressed his frame. Curse Tiamat, curse this pillow, it was made to break him just as much as the dragon's words.

"Then what is it master?" Gerald dropped to his knees as Lyyreth flicked his attention to them, the man tugging Vishta down with him. "How might we relieve you of this frustration?"

"Tiamat, your Emperor, wishes to slowly corrupt me. These quarters? Books, scrolls, magic, and history that I will spend months if not years unraveling. I smell and see treasures that would drive any dragon mad, have them drooling over having such things in their hoard. You, he gives me servants at my beck and call to get me used to the idea of mortals tending to my every whim." His frills pinned as his heart sunk, thinking of what was to come.

"That is alright master, for that is our place. Just tell us to help you and we shall see to working away what wounds our dragon's heart."

"Perhaps he wants massage?" Vishta beamed, "Scales scrubbed? Frills stroked? We may not be exceptionally well versed in such matters yet, but we have our lifetimes to learn what will please you master."

"Would you stop calling me that!" He hissed, scaring away his servants at the sight of his fangs.

"Then what should we go about calling you?" Gerald asked, peering out from behind a bookcase.

"Just don't go calling me that. It...it is not right. I should have no dominion over you by default, you are just as much victims as I am."

"So, what should we call you?" Whimpered Vishta, "We don't want to make m...you angry." She tossed herself at Lyyreth's paws, groveling for her life. "All we wish to do is serve you, make you happy."

"That is our duty." Gerald added, joining the kobold, "And what an honor it is to serve such a handsome beast such as yourself."

Handsome? Lyyreth's ire was disrupted for a moment, only for the reality to take hold once more. "No master, no great one, no giving me titles that puts me above you." He shook his snout, feeling his frills start to blush, "You however can still call me handsome. Thank you, Gerald, you're quite handsome yourself."

"Thank you, I'll take a compliment like that to heart."

"Look, I don't want to be put on a pedestal above you." Lyyreth finally sighed, trying to get them to look him in the eye. He was forced to order them to do so. "I want to make it clear, you are to not avert your gaze, no bowing your head, within these halls you will be treated as an equal. Do I make myself clear?" They both nodded, making him sigh in relief, at least it wouldn't be that hard. "And you may call me by my name. It usually is reserved for great friends, enemies, or those you trust, but it's the only way I can connect with you, show you I am serious." He took a deep breath and told them, letting it's weight make them gasp.

"I will treasure this forever Lyyreth." Gerald went to bow his head but caught himself.

Vishta was bouncing a smile on her snout in disbelief, "Same for me! I will tell no one else!"

That brought a smile to his eye, at least that would provide some comfort, and stop them from calling him master. The dragon settled his snout, kneading the pillow, it was a small victory, one that might not matter, but it was his. "And this means no groveling, begging, acting as though I am better. Just treat me as one of your own. Around me you are as if you were free, you only need act as my servants when the guards of the Emperor are looking. "

"I will endeavor to do so." Gerald stood tall, "May I approach?"

"You may." He flicked his tail as the man set his hand upon his snout.

"And may I still call you handsome?"

Lyyreth blushed, "Because you still think of me as your master and you're trying to praise me?"

"No, because you're handsome and I wish to say as such. One with beautiful scales, powerful haunches, and a very thick tail. I thank you for being so open and honest."

"Your compliments are appreciated Gerald. Hopefully we can all get to know each other in the days ahead. We can find comfort in one another."

"You are the best dragon that I have met." Vishta bound to the dragon's side, joining her claws with Gerald's tender hands. "Besides Emperor of course, he is the bestest, no doubt."

For a time he sat there saying nothing, letting his newfound friends massage his scales. He nuzzled them back with sad warbles, their tender embrace fighting back the hopelessness within. Tears he fought back for now, unwilling to break down before them, but let them hear every whimper or whine that left his maw. He held them close with his paws, pressing both against his scales, their hearts beating faster, no doubt thrilled their new master was showing them such attention. Eventually when his tears dried and the ache had started to dull, they parted.

"I know best thing after tough day." Vishta declared with a smile.

"And what would that be?" Lyyreth rose a brow.

"A bath. We can even scrub your scales!"

That certainly sounded nice, the promise of warm water caressing every inch of him. Lyyreth grumbled and relented, letting the bounding kobold lead him like a dog. Hopefully this would wash away the pain ache, and shame that lurked within his chest, threatening to take everything from him. "Just don't spend too long scrubbing me." He remarked with a huff, "I can clean my own scales."

** * * * * * * * *

He found himself sinking into the tub, more than large enough to fit a dragon twice his size. The waters were hot, not uncomfortable for one such as himself or his companions. Waves of comfort washed over him as its sinful heat sunk into his scales, whisking away troubles and leaving him in a state of utter delight. Laying upon his back, it was easy to drift away, especially as Gerald and Vishta began to slather his scales in soap and scrub away with brooms that had been modified for this very task.

Pleased, hisses left his snout as he let them work, knowing in the back of his mind that perhaps he should stop them. He knew he had said to not let anything have them treat him as a better, but with every stroke along him he found it harder and harder to protest. His frills trembles, paws quivered as they dutifully worked over every inch of him. He deserved this, needed this, days fraught with turmoil and unease needed to be worked away. Besides, by the looks of delight on his companion's faces, they were enjoying it as much as he was.

"I never knew dragons could purr." Vishta chuckled as they moved to caress his frills with their tender hands, gentle strokes had the green utterly putty at their touch.

"They do when you do such a good job." He nuzzled into Gerald; the man's chest pressed tight to his nose. The dragon took a deep breath of his masculine scent, relishing the warmth of his flesh. He rumbled in the back of his throat as the man chuckled at such a show, rewarding him with tender strokes along the underside of his throat.

"It would appear as though we are doing exceptionally well." The knight added, "Much less intimidating."

"Oh, I can be quite intimidating still." He mused, playfully snapping at the man, as he and Vishta moved atop him to better massage his scales. "Careful of my talons, I don't want to scratch you."

"We'll watch ourselves." Vishta smiled, pressing her entire body into the dragon's scales. She and Gerald worked as one, working around his limbs, his chest and even teasing along the underside of his neck.

To think that this might be every day, it would certainly make it more appealing. Lyyreth's hinds softly bat at the air as Gerald found a particularly good spot along his belly. His touch robbed the dragon of any sense of dignity, reducing him to a purring mess and flicking tail. He found himself blushing as the man continued his work, seeing it as a good sign of his skill. Eventually they brought this to an end, having the dragon lay back, close his eyes and drift off to the pleasure they brought upon him.

After a time, he couldn't stand it much longer, he leaned up, gracing each of them a tender lick upon their naked forms. To his relief they did not shy away, but instead moved into his slimy affections.

"Lyyreth, you don't need to." Gerald began, but Lyyreth silenced him with a growl.

"I do such things on my free will. To think I'd be so selfish as to not have you experience the same pleasure as I? Preposterous." He licked them both once more, rumbling as each shivered and caressed his snout as he did so. With his thanks given he reclined once more, thinking very little as the two companions wove their skilled hands down his flank and towards his lower regions. There they began to knead and caress his tail, bringing out whole new warbles from his lips. "For those with no experience, you're quite good at tending to a dragon."

"I'll take that as a compliment Lyyreth." Gerald chuckled; his cheeks flushed. "I thought your beauty could grow no greater, but from this angle..."

Lyyreth opened an eye, the man was massaging at the base of his tail, positioned right between his legs. The dragon's frills pinned as he blushed, his blood starting to warm. "You look good right there as well."

"Between your legs?"

Oh gods, he had said that! Lyyreth laughed it off and apologized for such an error. Before he could say another salacious thing, he reclined, trying to forget about the handsome man that was between his legs, talking about how good he looked down there. The green dragon shifted, feeling himself stir within his slit. Oh no, he took a deep breath, he didn't need his lance of all things coming forth. He had the willpower to control himself!

Vishta had moved at the dragon's pleased hiss, careful to work her way across his scales. Tenderly she pressed and caressed until she was facing down the object of her attention. With nostrils flaring she leaned forward, lapping at the dragon's exposed slit.

Grah! Lyyreth trembled at such lewdness, his paws trembling as a pleased hiss escaped his lips. He wanted to bid her to leave but found the words caught in his throat, especially as her tongue worked around his slit and delved into his depths with pleased whimpers escaping her throat. His frills pinned as she continued, desire building within him. What was a small thing and easy to squash was an overpowering force. He shifted, groaned, his great shaft within starting to rouse to life. Every stroke of her dutiful tongue only hastening its arrival. Oh, he shouldn't be doing this, he knew it was wrong, but oh the pleasure that struck through him was far too powerful.

"What...are you doing?" Huffed the dragon as he fancied a look, catching the kobold's snout practically pressed to his slit. She didn't pause as she looked to him, instead delight shown within her gaze as her lewd touch caused him to tremble and moan in delight.

"It would appear as though she's eating you out Lord Lyyreth." Gerald replied, his cheeks flushed, arousal clearly within his gaze.

"Yes, I can see that!" Hissed the beast as his maleness throbbed within, "If she keeps that up, I'm going to slip free of it!"

"I do believe that's the intention...Which, must I say, I envy her?"

"I told you two to not treat me as a better...Grah!" Why did she have to be so good? The dragon laid back his head, a prisoner to the pleasure she was forcing him to experience.

"I not treating as better." Vishta pulled back, her lips smeared in the dragon's fluids of arousal, wiping them away with her tongue, "I trying to make friend feel good. Always dream to tend to a dragon. Especially one that isn't jerk."

Was she lying or was this what the Emperor did to her? Lyyreth groaned as she returned to her work, finding the concern melting away by her tongue. By Bahamut's name he hadn't the power to make her stop, he hissed as the first flick of her tongue reached the tip of his shaft. He was helpless to resist as she doubled her efforts, dragging her broad surface over his throbbing head, helping guide his rising shaft to the free air. His frills pinned as his cock pulsed and squirting the first splurge of pre right into her waiting maw.

"Gods you're good at this." Hissed the dragon as his shaft rose inch by inch, aided by her slathering tongue.

She dipped lower along his throbbing length, caressing the sensitive ridges that covered it. Each one she lingered on, using her slick claws to caress and squeeze, driving pleasure straight to the dragon's core. The air filled with her soft moans and dutiful slurps, music to the hissing dragon's ears. For this was her place after all was it not, worshipping at her master's cock.

Lyyreth groaned and buried such a though as she began to work her way back up to his drooling, pointed head. There the kobold's eyes hooded as she began to lap at the pre that had been drooling copiously down his ridges. "Vishta." He moaned as she pressed her pre slick scales against him, using her entire body to squeeze and pump his trembling shaft, it wouldn't be long now, he was losing this battle.

"And I wish to show my thanks." Gerald added, crawling to where Vishta dwelled and adding his diligent hands and tongue to the kobold's own. The man blushed, stiffening as he kissed and suckled along Lyyreth's shaft, a mirror to Vishta as she worked the other side, it made the dragon hiss in delight, "Your cock is magnificent piece of masculinity lord Lyyreth." He moaned into the dragon's turgid flesh, "One that deserves the greatest attention to it, it puts mine to shame."

The dragon growled lustfully, squirming under such attention. Seeing these two throw themselves so willingly upon his draconic spire, it lit a fire of need within that would not be held back. "Do not discount yourself so easily my good knight, yours is more than suited for the task."

"Just know you two." Lyyreth laid back his head, more than willing to give in. If they wished to get this from him, he would let them have it. "You will tended to. I'll not have ones so attentive go ignored."

They continued without another word, groaning their last into his shaft. Pleasure built as their rhythm increased, guided by his heavy pants. He couldn't hold it back any longer, the dragon was left trembling, hissing his pleasure to the halls as he unloaded into their faces. The kobold and human moaned with him, pressing their factious into the thick, alabaster cum, scooping it up and swallowing it down without resistance. Flushed with lust they cleaned every inch of him, by its end the kobold was practically drooling, and Gerald was rock hard himself, pre dribbling down his cock.

Lyyreth was true to his word, unwilling to let his passions go tended to while theirs not. He shifted and had Vishta lay on her back as he caressed her with his tongue. Her scales were earthy to the taste, easily slathered and caressed, his target was between her legs right before her tail. He rumbled in delight as he entered her slow, her moans of passion more than delightful to be witnessed to. For minutes he caressed, tasting her deep to her core. She was in utter bliss, holding his snout as her pussy clenched and squeezed his appendage. After he had her orgasm, which was a screaming, trembling affair, the kobold immediately proper herself onto all fours, tail raised, begging for Lyyreth to mount her.

Mount her he did, changing his size of course as to not utterly destroy her. His shaft entered her soft folds, getting caressed as though it were made for him. He worked his shaft in slowly, guided by her arousal, delighted at her pleasured grunts and groans as she took him to the base. He gave licks and nuzzles of encouragement, letting her know how good she felt, squeezing and milking at his ridged length, desperate for the white gold that it would give.

Gerald was not to ignored however, for him the dragon had a different prize. Lyyreth used a spell to slicken his tail, letting it raise for the dutiful knight. He had grinned as the man took his position, hands grasping at the dragon's haunches, more than willing to line himself up to take the dragon in the most intimate of ways. As he did the dragon groaned his pleasure, the man more than large enough in his current size. Each inch that wove its way under his tail made him groan, push back with utter delight. It was when his scales met the man's crotch that he moaned his name, bringing a groan of satisfaction.

They worked a rhythm together, sharing their passions as one. Gerald worked over the dragon, pounding at his tight hole, pulverizing his prostate. Lyyreth as he trembled took Vishta's slit, trapped in pleasure from both ends as the cheeky kobold pressed back, adding her moans to the choir that was them. Groans and wet slaps were the norm for several minutes as they relished in each other's bodies, pleasure building and building until they were singing in delight, climaxes swiftly approaching.

"I'm going to- "Gerald was the first to groan, hands digging into Lyyreth's haunches, hardly able to hold back.

"Do it! Cum inside me my knight!" Groaned the dragon as Vishta took the initiative and pressed back, forcing his knot to breech her inner folds and get stuck. The kobold shrieked as her orgasm struck, fluttering waves caressing his shaft, squeezing, and milking it until he unloaded all he could inside her.

"Grah!" He groaned, clenching his eyes shut as he flooded the little lizard below him. Soft thrusts were ever so sensitive as he squirted the last of himself as deep as he could manage. At the same time, he could feel the hot splashes of Gerald's pleasure coating his insides. Some might have said unbefitting of a dragon, but he groaned, lost in delight all the same.

What followed in the wake of their afterglow was a night of continued passions. They took pleasure in one another for it would not be found outside these walls. In here they were safe, cared for, could rely on one another to endure what would come. Different positions they tried, moans of delight escaped snout or mouth, finally ending upon the dragon's bed. There Lyyreth rode Gerald like any female, passionately holding his face as he parted his maw and kissed the man deeply as he could. It ended as the man swallowed his tongue and pulled the dragon down, slathering his hole with another helping of the human's seed.

Tired, exhausted, the trio collapsed as one upon the dragon's bed. Returning to his true size, he swiftly pulled the duo against his black scaled chest, relishing in how their panting had synched up. The dragon softly chuckled as he nuzzled at the two mortals, each of them dripping with the evidence of their activities, he himself was no exception.

"I'm sorry my friends." He said softly, caressing their scales and flesh, "I'm sorry that we're stuck here and that's all I can provide. A place to be protected, safe, given what pleasure I can. If you should wish it, that shall not be the last time you take pleasure from me."

Vishta leaned into him, her eyes closed on the verge of sleep, "That ok, you the best dragon Lyyreth. We glad we met you."

"You're not like your grandfather, I can tell you that." Gerald said softly, caressing the green dragon's snout, earning himself a lick across the face, "I never imagined I'd be the one filling your tail."

"Oh Gerald, you give yourself little credit, you are a fine specimen, worthy of filling any dragon's tail who will have you." He laid a paw gently upon the man's cheek, enjoying how the man laughed and leaned into the tender touch.

The knight nodded as Vishta gave a pleased whimper, nuzzling against Lyyreth's scales. "I thank you for what kindness you have shown then Lyyreth."

He leaned in, locking lips with the flushed man, finding comfort in his gentle moans of pleasure. At least within this gilded cage, he would not be alone. There would be those he could lean on, protect, take comfort in. He would be their dragon of no equal, shielding them from the worst of the world, treating them as Bahamut intended. It was a bitter victory, but if that's all he could do, it was better than nothing.

* * * * * * * * * * *

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