(I'm horrible at naming things, so I hope it's okay. Hopefully, the post meets your expectations! ^u^ -falls over panting-)

His troupe was trudging down the mountain. Wherever his emerald gaze looked, he saw grinning faces, full of hope and happiness. A mere two days ago, these same gaunt faces had looked empty, full of despair and pain. And the strange thing was that they were all looking at Noble that way, as if he was the key.

The tanned, bare chested male glanced to his shoulder. It was still too sensitive to put a shirt on. There was a bite mark, seared into his skin. It was sickly looking, a dark purple. From it flowed a tattoo, though Noble had never gotten one, it was there. It was a large, jet dragon, one of it’s claws clinging to his shoulder blade, the other one on his chest. It’s long, spiked tail curled around and down his waist, almost twice. It scared him. The dragon seemed to move as he walked, fluttering under his skin, though this wasn’t what frightened the gypsy. It was mostly the eyes, a bright, living green that matched his own that peered out from the head perched on the long, dipped neck. The neck wove around the back of his own neck, the head stopping below his collarbone.

What terrified the young male even more, was that with every step, it did move, inside of him. His skin felt like it was crawling, wanting to fly, return to the natural form it felt it should have.

Noble had the dragon god, Kinabalu, he had to thank. And curse. His group of gypsies were trapped here, with the borders closed. No one would trade with them in this country, because of the laws they hadn’t known existed. Any gypsy was killed on sight. They had been formidable, almost a total of two hundred people. It was now a mere forty three. There had been an even fifty, but they’d sacrificed seven virgins to become wives…He could still here there screams. The male shivered, pausing in his walk.

The whole reason they’d become this desperate was because of that damn prince. He’d been informed of the gypsies encampment, and sent soldiers in the night. Noble still woke up from those screams. They were added to the newer ones, fluttering around in his head. He’d no idea he’d be chosen for this.

~<3~

It was days later, and gypsy boy had gotten used to his new powers. It was time. He shifted, becoming the actual jet dragon that was seared into his skin. The beast roared, and the massive wingspan spread. He lifted into the air from the clearing, turning his massive head towards the castle he could see.

It was a short flight, though it would have taken days of walking. The dragon landed on the castle itself, the tail whipping about. None of the arrows released seemed to do any damage on the skin, but it was still irritating. On the long neck, the head swiveled, the emerald eyes not seeing what he wanted: That prince. The dragon roared, clawing at the castle.

In actuality, the Prince was hardly concerned with the gypsies. His soldiers had done their job, and he was content with that. The law had been set in stone before his crown, and just as unchanged was the hate of the roaming people his father had instilled in him. He was a generally well-liked ruler, since his father had gone ill and passed the crown to him early. A rather level-headed man, fair in decision, and soon to be married to a well-liked noble woman. They had been childhood friends, though he cared little for her in the fashion the married implied. She would be a good companion, produce good heirs--that was what mattered after all.

Deverin was in the library, when the castle shook and weight swayed its walls. His fair-skinned nose was buried in a history book, long blond hair falling in pale waves down his back and across one shoulder. He had been standing in an aisle of ancient leather-bound tombs, and was reading in his native tongue; Elven. His mother had been a wood elf, while his father had been human. The mix was strange, and to this day few accepted the wedding of two species but could not argue with the results. A handsome prince with a level head from his mother, but with the emotional connection to his people from his father. And his height. The Prince was built to battle as well as rule, and the silver circlet with the garnet gem complimented the fact he had already shed blood.

As the castle swayed and groaned beneath the dragon's weight, the book he had been reading was discarded. In the hall he met his general, who lead him out into the back court yard to see exactly what was so angry it could shake stone. Brown eyes were wide--a dragon. An old God, attacking the castle? His castle. What on earth.
"Call in the catapults, I don't have any other idea what could cause it to flee. And the mages--find Murdoke, and Catherine."
"Of course, Sir." Of course, the general never left the Prince, and instead sent a group of young soldiers to find what was requested. A silver sword was drawn from the nobleman's hip, and the Prince tossed his head to knock his hair over his shoulder--a brief flash of pointed ear followed.
"Who angered an Old God?"
"You think I know, Deveron?"
"You know everything else."
"Hardly the time for banter."

Noble was screeching and keening, his long neck arched and snapping forward. He didn’t have long: There were bound to bring in something to hurt him, despite his armored like skin.

After another roar of irritation, Noble did something very difficult in this new form. ~Prince~! He bellowed, though the word was distorted slightly. A dragon’s lips were difficult to speak from. He shifted on the castle, his body wrapping around a jutting tower. ~Must speak…Prince…Weapons go…away…or kill…all…~ On top of that, his lungs were built for flying, but speaking seemed to force him to breath more.

"..." The prince tucked the rapier back into his sheath. The general beside him wen tbug-eyed.
"It speaks?"
"Recall the troupes, set out a cease fire. bring the mages, but don't let the catapults in sight." Earthen eyes turned towards a soldier, who nodded in awe and scrambled away. Sure the man was on his way, the Prince stood upright with his shoulders back and stared up at the beast. Would he speak normally and be heard, or should he shout? Shouting would probably be best. His heart pounded in his ears; stories of tainted old Gods swam in his head. They were extremely powerful creatures, and as the dragon had said, could level towns without breaking a sweat. It made him nervous, to face such a monster. His home had not seen a dragon on decades. "The weapons have been called off," Deveron shouted, wary as he stepped slowly toward the walls. The general reached out for him, but the Prince waved him off. "I will speak with you freely, please spare my men. With what can I assist you, Sir Dragon?"

The dragon growled deep in it’s throat, it’s head weaving back and forth as if unable to focus on the prince. In actuality, he had a blind spot there, and wished to see him with both eyes.

His hearing, however, was perfect enough to hear the quite commands the prince issued. Mages…Magic would hurt. However, the prince put away his sword. Perhaps the dragon form frightened him, as it still did Noble. He could either trick the prince into coming with him or force him. Since, clearly, the male was willing to speak, perhaps he could be tricked.

Noble pushed off the castle, landing in front of the prince, scattering several soldiers. The dragon purred mentally. Good, let them be afraid, just like his people. He lowered his head, until it was in front of the male. His breath reeked, he knew, though he didn’t eat like this, he had the bite mark to show the liquid dripping from his front fangs were poisonous.

~You need…come with me…important…~ He breathed, not giving out details. Clearly, the prince viewed him as something to be listened to.

There was a flash behind the earthen eyes as the dragon landed. The ground beneath his armored feet shook, and very nearly caused him to stumble. Training kept him stable though, and so he lifted his head and fought the urge to step back and run. The breath was awful, and as the dragon spoke, the reason was inevitable. Fear struck him, respect struck him, both to his core. But only the later showed.

Behind him, his guard told him not to go. Mentally, the Prince scolded him; yes, I shall not obey a massive venomous dragon God, and see what happens. Sounds like a good plan. When the offer concluded, the Prince bowed at the hip and touched his chest with a hand. "I will go with you where ever it is needed, Sir Dragon." Again, behind him, the guard squealed about duties and country and Marlinae, his wife-to-be. The Prince tilted his head to glance over his shoulder. "If you do not quiet, there will be no country to bare duty to. If it saves my people, then I must go, hm?" The guard goes quiet, and the Prince returns his attention to Noble. "Shall I procure a horse and follow you, good Sir?"

~Alone…for Prince only…~ Noble breathed, delighted. He deliberated, however. Both the dragon’s mind, and his own did not wanting the male riding astride him, but both also doubted the prince would submit easily to being carried in a claw.

The dragon shifted once more, stepping forward and twisting his neck, offering Deverin the space above his wings, and below his neck. ~Come…~ He spoke in what could be considered a whisper, the green eyes lighting with Noble’s triumph. The evil man would pay for the rest of his life, suffer as he did now.

The dragon whispered in his mind, agreeing. Now that they were joined, they seemed to share memories. Though produced by an evil god, the dragon was good, and the nightmares affected him as well. Make him suffer…

The prince cast a wary glance at the Dragon, before glancing back at his guard. The guard looked as a mother would when her house was completely trashed while she was away. Deveron smiled softly, and rose a hand in fare well. "I will be back, good friend. Tell father and Marlinae to keep my dinner seat warm." With that, he heaved himself up onto the dragon and across the base of his neck. He was light, for his height, and the armor-and-cloth he wore as casual-formal castle attire weighed little as well. Obviously light for casualty, but armored for his place as a warrior.

The guard gripped his sword tightly, worried of the dragon. He was a superstitious man, and the blackness of the dragon brought him much worry. "You will be missed, my lord."
"Only if you remember to check my bed in the morning!" Deveron laughed full-heartedly.

Noble was ecstatic, and his powerful wings beat the air quickly, before he could change his mind. Once in the air, he bellowed his triumph, moving back to the mountain.

He was too far for human eyes to see, those his saw much, before he landed back in the clearing. There were gypsies leaning on trees around him, all armed. Unceremoniously, Noble’s head whipped around, his jaws shoving Deverin to the ground. Unable to hold the form any longer, Noble’s exhausted body changed. He stood, naked for a moment, a jet haired youth with the same piercing green eyes, staring intently at the prince. After a moment, however, his emerald eyes rolled back in his head, and he collapsed on the ground.

Before any gypsy stepped to help him, the tanned forms moved forward, their weapons trained on the prince. “Drop your sword to the ground and strip. You are ours now, understand? You’ll do as told.” The voice was an old woman, standing behind the armed men that surrounded Deverin. Her hair was silver, past her waist. Her form was curled, clinging to a curved stick that supported her fragile weight. She turned soon after giving the command, nodding to the second group. “Get some clothes for Noble. Take him home, he’ll need food when he gets up.”

(In the first post you have, you have two different spellings of his name...what do you want to be used?)

(Crackers, use the 'o'. I didn't mean to misspell his name. xD; )

Deveron hit the ground with a disgrunted huff, splayed out on his back. His breath left him and he wheezed softly, looking around the the tanned bodies above him like they were alien. Gypsies? His men hadn't finished the job? That was irritating. A soft grunt, and he tried to sit up with the little breath he had. "Yours? I hardly belong to a band of thieves," he slowly got to his feet, and brushed himself off. "I wont draw my sword unless a battle is to be had--and I most certainly will not strip. For God's sake, woman, I have decency."

Really? This wouldn't take long. If his general was as he should be, men should be following the dragon as they spoke. "It would be in your best interest to set me free. I'm hardly a force to be dealt with. You entered my lands when my father's law was in place--the law is law, even I must follow it."

(Okay…just wanted to know what you wished.)

The old woman’s head snapped around. “Strip him.” She commanded the men, before explaining to him in a calmer voice. “Laws that are unfair. Laws that killed many children. Unjust laws made against people who did no harm to any of you. We planned to pass through, but your closed borders make it impossible.”

“You need to strip because we need to ensure you have no more weapons. It would be a pity if we’d sacrificed so much, and if Noble continued to live in pain, just to get slaughtered.” She continued, her striking blue eyes hard, “And you are here, we brought you. You’re life is going to pay for the dead. Look around. You stand on their graves.” Sure enough, the ground around looked freshly turned over. The gypsies did not believe in mass graves, and over a hundred bodies laid buried in the clearing. “Besides.” She grinned, reveling missing teeth, “Kinabalu would be very displeased if one of his sacred chosen did complete the task he sacrificed so much for.” She nodded to the still form that people still hadn’t moved forward to help.

Despite his state, the dragon tattoo continued to shimmer, as if, once more, it was it’s own living thing. “Come now,” The old hag muttered. “Don’t make things difficult. We’ve a long journey ahead of us…”

His hands went immediately to his cloak. "Woman, I go no where with you. The law is set, and has been since long before my birth. You expect to get repaid for not heeding protocol by stealing a prince." He seems angry, and baffled, at the same time. Go with the gypsies, like dogs could meow. He'd go no where with them, not now nor ever. "It will not happen. My men will find us, and you will also be killed. I will not be enslaved. I have a country to run, unfortunately my time can not be spared to useless thieves." He wrinkled his nose.

”No…no one is getting’paid’. Simple revenge. You can now be considered our slave. If you prove too much trouble, we will sell you on the black market. We aren’t going to waste time here much longer, Prince.” Her grin widened. “I’d love Noble to hear you talk like that…His dragon is young, almost as touchy as him…” She cackled. The gypsy men stepped forward, grabbing for his various weapons. "You, young prince, could have changed the laws. Pity."

Noble, meanwhile, was given a blanket to drape over his body, and was already stirring. He groaned, and lifted a hand to his temple, rubbing gently. Inside, the dragon was pestering him. Obeying the beast, Noble lifted his head from his sitting position, evaluating the prize he’d brought. He is being difficult…

He stood, glancing to the Grandmother, as she was known. The woman shook her head, telling him without words he wasn’t to shift so soon. Her eyes, however, stated clearly he may need to. Attempting to play off his headache, as if it was nothing, along with the various aches and hurting joints, Noble stood shakily, and narrowed his eyes. “You want me to change again, sweetling? If you become too much trouble, I’ll just level out the nearest town. It’s only a few hours flight…”

"I would not put it past you to do so," he took a swing at one of the men nearest him, catching his jaw with a gauntlet. "Revenge is a bitter-sweet decision. Take me, do what you like. My father is the king, he makes the law--he will only make life worse for your people." Another swing at the man, grunting as his fist connected. "Sell me or kill me, I will not drop to my knee for liars and thieves. Carve that on your runes and read them."

Of course, one man against the eight or ten who were attempting to strip him of whatever worth he wore didn't stand a chance. He ended up in just a tunic and his trousers, blond hair matted and messed around a slender face. Brown eyes turned to Noble again, and sneered--respect. That's what he had had; it was drained now and replaced with resentment. He wasn't one to wish poorly on people, but for once...Then his attention returned to the only woman. "With me I suggest not wandering to closely to an Elven caravan--they may frown upon an enslavement of their brother. An elven archer is not a force to be dealt with."

(Yay! Cexy is on!!! XP)

“The boy certainly talks a lot…We won‘t be here much longer, boy. We won‘t need to worry about the people here.” The old hag muttered, before turning. She hobbled away. Despite having been told no, Noble forced his exhausted body to shift once more. It would clearly be the only way to subdue the prince.

Plus, that look was easier to deal with like this, with the dragon’s nonchalance, that accusing glare didn’t faze Noble as much. He had been a simply member, not one asked to make choices. And he hadn’t asked to be chosen by the evil god. He didn’t wish to ruin another’s life, even if he’d ruined him.

Noble reached out with a nimble foreleg, attempting to grip the prince. Grandmother had decided he’d remain tied while in this kingdom. Tied or accompanied by the dragon. So, while Noble rested, Deveron would be tied. The men around procured rope, waiting to see if the male was subdued before attempting to tie him.

(Half way. xD; I'm moving into my dorm and was testing the interwebnet. 8'D So I may be flaky.)

Blue blazes. Of all the things, he'd planned nothing for a bloody dragon. An assassination attempt, yes. Father's death, yes. Marlinae having an affair, yes. Himself having an affair, yes. Illegitimate children, murder, sickness and war. All of these things had been in his mind since he was very young; a curtsy from his patronage. But a dragon, kidnapping him because the gypsies didn't follow the law, again, was not one of his top imaginative scenerios.

Deveron tucked away from the claw, and darted past it. Large, yes. Was it nimble? Perhaps his could confuse the...boy...dragon...shifter, whatever, use it's largeness against it. He made a dash to weave beneath the creatures shoulder, eyes more focused on the forest. If he could get into the underbrush, he may be able to loose them. Unimaginative as he was, it never crossed his mind a dragon has a tail.

(Poop…Sad Day…You have fun, though! ^u^)

Noble growled and hissed as the prince darted under his shoulder. He didn’t wish to harm the male, which is what the barbs on his tail, as well as his fangs, would do. So gripping Deveron with his mouth, or slamming him to the ground with his tail was out.

His underbelly was soft, Kinabalu had made sure to tell him to be careful. The prince, however, was unarmed…

Flicking his comrades an irritated glance, the dragon laid down,though kept most of his weight off the prince. ~Making…things….difficult…~ He breathed. ~Enough…won’t be so bad…~

(I'll be on and off. I promise! XD)

Humiliating. The crumbled to the ground as the dragon lowered himself, pressing the toes of his feet and the palms of his hands into the ground to catch him. Wonderful. Perfectly wonderful. Mentally, the elven man cursed a blue streak and bit his thumb at the sky. "Yes, do explain; I'm quite sure you're all intent of treating me ever so -kindly-." He attempted to push himself up, which was inevitably futile. After a struggling moment, he just laid there. "Respect me and garner respect; it is the way of the world and always has been. Your people have done nothing but prove a point as to why the law was made. My complacency is limited, strained and extremely forced. You are lucky to have that much from me."

(Okaies! ^u^ My current favorite roleplay!)

As soon as he felt the prince stop fighting, Noble shifted, and the gypsies rushed in, binding him, though his legs were put into strange hobbles, so he could walk, but running would trip him. The dragon stepped back, before nudging the prince in a direction. His massive wings flattened unto his back.

~…We had…no idea of…the laws…here, when…we entered…this land…~ Noble began. The dragon’s deep voice seemed to hold something else, and the bright green eyes grew brighter. ~We were just…passing through…We cannot leave…you will…help with that…in return…for my family…that you killed…we are not…what you think…we honestly…had no choice…in this…~ At least, Merik hadn’t. The dragon followed along, nudging the prince to force him to move, the gypsies walking in front of the two.

He wanted to change back. He was so exhausted, however, if he shifted back, he’d fall back into unconsciousness. He had to make sure the prince was subdued before doing so. ~If it wasn’t for…you, prince…we would not…have you…you made me.~

(Really? 8'D Im flattered! Gotta go for a bit. I'll be back later!)

The Prince was still as he was bound, all sorts of genuinely unpleasant ends for them all bouncing around in his skull like flies. As he heaved hefted to his feet and pushed around, he remained relatively silent. "My father," he corrected simply. "I made nothing. The laws have been ever-present, you should have researched the lands you seem to think belong to you. It was your choice to come here, your choice to do whatever mutilation you've done to yourself. My father is dying, and I wear the crown in his place. The lands will fall to ruin--I would rather die with you, than assist you through the lands you will have destroyed." He shouldered one of the men away who came to close, and already his ankles were beginning to hurt. "What's done is done. My people for yours, the price will be paid in blood. Amen."

The dragon’s head lowered further, almost touching the ground. He was silent for a bit. Deveron was wrong. He hadn’t chosen this mutilation at all. The God had, and his people had agreed. If he hadn’t stepped forward, he would have been dragged to that alter.

~It will be one…week…perhaps two…your land…will not fall into…ruin during…that time…And we do…not intend…to kill…any of…your people…~ The path that walked down was clearly made by the dragon: Trees were shoved out of the way or burnt. It led deep into the woods. Various caravans could be seen parked in the trees. A rough corral held various horses. Around a large fire, many of the gypsies sat, grinning as their eyes fell on the prince. The few children left after the slaughter rushed right past Deveron, to the dragon.

Noble purred to a moment, letting the children climb on him a jump off, before nudging them gently toward the fire. The Grandmother glanced over, having heard the last part of the conversation. “Don’t bother trying to reason with him, Noble. He’s a spoiled prince, and no matter what you say, he will think the same of us.” She sighed and shook her head, “You should know by now.”

The dragon glanced away, before moving to the side. He shifted, and now that Deveron was no danger, he was carted into one of the wagons. A few of the gypsies grabbed Deveron by his arms, shoving him towards the house with a sneer. The Grandmother spoke once more. “Noble is your keeper while you are with us. Get some sleep, prince. Tomorrow we begin our journey.”

Two weeks? Of slavery. For some reason, Deveron didn't really grasp any sort of hope that anyone would really allow such a short time span. A kidnapping was a kidnapping, and the old hag seemed very serious about it.

As they walked, something again from his mother felt even more angry at the people. The poor trees, the forest. His blood wasn't complete, but he could occasionally hear whispers; all wood elves could. The fact this part of the forest was silent; broken, burned and destroyed...it bothered him. They took forest life only when necessary--or so his father said. Perhaps that was a lie too. Who knew?

Upon Noble's transition and removal--and his own forced manhandling--the Prince found himself sitting awkwardly and mostly on his knees in the hut/house he'd been thrown into. Again, a blue streak was sent mentally to each and every individual in the camp. His teeth were grit and bared at the men who'd tossed him this way, but he offered little to no resistance. He wasn't exactly formidable currently.

The men that had shoved him inside the mobile house retreated, though they could be heard outside, speaking quietly to each other. The dragon boy laid on the bed, silent and still.

It wasn’t long, however, before he awakened. The dragon inside him wasn;t affected as he was by the change: It was it’s natural form, and as a human, he felt constricted, way too restrained. There was something else, however. Something Noble couldn’t place, but the dragon hadn’t done before.

It wasn’t until Noble was urged to the poin the got up, and he sat up, rubbing his eyes and glancing about. Paisa was purring…It couldn’t be heard aloud, naturally, but it was reverberating in his mind. There was something that made his ornery, young dragon feel relaxed and content. What? He grumbled to the beast. Scent…nice… Came his reply. Confused for a moment, Noble sniffed the air. Even in his human form, his senses had heightened remarkably. A clean scent touched his delicate nose. The male jerked wider awake, and peered around once more, actually seeing items now. There…the prince, still with his hands tied.

The dragon boy stood, reaching to a trunk next to the bed and tugging on loose trousers. He finally moved to the prince, stepping behind him and unbinding the rope that tied his arms. The shackled needed a key the Grandmother had elected to hold, so Noble didn’t bother with those. He assumed the gypsies, not wanting to deal with the rebellious male, had brought him here. He was to be the male’s keeper, after all.

Being close to the other male made his nose sting, as if the prince’s scent was the only one. It didn’t seem to help that his beast was purring louder. He was surprised further when Paisa spoke once more. Cuddle…scent… His…dragon…wanted…to cuddle? The prince? Used to giving the beast what it wished, Noble had reached out, caressing the man’s arm, before he even realized he’d done so. He jerked his hand back, and moved back to the bed, setting his aching form down. “Hungry?” He finally asked, as Paisa agreed in his mind. Yes…feed…cuddle…take care…of our mate… Noble shook his head, and gritted his teeth, trying to ignore the screeching his dragon began when Noble disagreed, and informed the beast this man was not their mate.

Why had it changed? Even the young neutral beast was disturbed by the nightmares Noble had…it had wanted the prince to pay. Why had it changed it’s mind?

While Noble had slept, the Prince has taken the time to wiggle himself around and up onto his knees properly. Though his knees had begun to go numb, it was the most comfortable position to be in with his shoulders bent back with his arms, and he'd settled himself closer to one of the walls. The house itself was not quite what he had expect, if not bare compared to most decoration in the castle. He wondered to himself if his mother had grown up in something similar to this, or if the elves lived differently. Only so much he knew...

He smelled of clean linen, though something like smelling salts and something else, natural, a woody undertone--like a tree in winter. It was hidden, beneath what made him half human, but still prevalent as his ears. And perhaps other things, to the dragon.

When the boy stirred, Deveron tilted his head just enough he could see the bow through a curtain of blond. It fell over his thinly covered shoulder like a satin wave, though fly-away strands and some dirt clung now from his manhandling. As soon as Noble had gone for pants he'd glanced away, glaring silently down at his knees and trying to think of something to say. Anything at all. Anger was a horrible thing, something that constricted one's diplomacy. That's when he became increasingly surprised by the next move; untying his hands. As soon as they were free, he'd moved to bring them around and rub his wrists. His surprise was solidified when the boy touched his arm. That one motion clashed against his anger, and seemed to will it to fade to something else...curiosity? Whatever it was, the anger ebbed, and goosebumps rolled across his skin in a wave. But the touch was gone as suddenly as it had appeared, and he continued to bring his hands around to rub his wrists. "My appetite is long gone. I would not trust the food you would give me anyway." Where the venom had been before, was more a simple statement now.

Noble was silent for several long moments, listening to the dragon in him, and fighting with it. The dragon was saying to feed his mate, force the food if he must. Mates must be healthy…it was his job.

Finally, the gypsy boy sighed, and rubbed his temple. “I’m going to get you something. Eat it or not, though Paisa won’t let me hurt you. You don’t have anything to worry about.”

He left without another word, and returned moments later with stew, setting it on the floor in front of the prince. “You are called Deveron, correct? I’m Noble…” Kinabalu, why was he attempting to make conversation with him? Inside, the dragon was keening once more, begging to touch ‘it’s mate’. In an attempt to appease the dragon, Noble reached down, and took the bowl, sipping from the side before placing it back down, showing it wasn’t poisoned or the like. “I don’t know how much has been explained to you, but I’m sure you are curious…” The male spoke wearily, “Feel free to ask whatever you want. I’ll answer the best I can.”