Had a plotbunny about what would happen if Hans went all murderous angry dragon and Edvard got to see the result.



His 11 brothers.

Their families.

Their children.

All dead.

He never would have thought that Gustav, the finest swordsman in the land and Theo, who had always seemed larger than life and almost invincible would have fallen, but they did-

And here he was.

The last of the Princes of the Southern Isles.


Not quite the last.

The last was looming over him right now - a huge red, scaled monster with massive terrible bat-like wings and claws like spears.

In trying to prevent that cursed prophecy, all they had done was ensure its fulfillment.

His brothers had paid the price for their part in creating the monster.

Now, Edvard would pay the price for his inability to stop them.

His right stump ached - some reminder of the fire that had taken it so many years before. He stared up at the dragon, shivering despite the flames that flared all around him, searching for any trace of Hans, of the brother he had failed and saw nothing but a predatory, reptilian glint in the creature’s green eyes.

Despite the overwhelming, almost paralyzing fear, Edvard managed to swallow and rasp out what he thought would be his last words.

“Go ahead,” he whispered, “Finish what you started.

He closed his eyes and waited for death.