Who has ever seen a pouting angel? His expansive wings lie flat and limp against his back as he lies face down on a pillow. Looking at them up close as you sit next to Luhan on the bed, you realize, they’re not completely white, but have little blonde freckles spotted all over them, especially closer to the top. His voice comes out muffled against the pillow, but when he raises his head, you can hear him more clearly. “They’re going to send me to someone new, soon. I should have known it was going to happen, but I liked being here with you.” The news was harsh to hear, but you still managed to smile, though it was tinged with sadness at the corners. “Aren’t you the one who’s supposed to comfort me? I’m the one losing my guardian angel.” You fingers trailed wistfully over the strong feathers which adorned his back like a cape to protect him from the world. ‘I’m going to miss you. But you helped me to get away from that darkness I was in. I’m happy now, and stable, with good friends.” When he flipped over and sat up to look at you, his expression was more hopeful. “I know. They wouldn’t reassign me if they didn’t know you were going to be okay on your own.” He leans over to hug you tightly. “You’re going to be amazing.”
A/N: Many thanks go out to my beta, my graphic designer, and the Mulan to my Ruby, Biana (aka @biancaros3 ). Without you, this fic wouldnt be what it is today. And thank you to everyone who has continues with this story. And if you catch the Galavant reference, kudos to you. ;) Enjoy!
the next four days, Killian and Emma’s developed a routine.
morning, Pestilence would escort Emma to the dining hall and where she and
Killian ate breakfast with each other. From there, Killian took it upon himself
to show Emma even more of his palace. Even though he never had any visitors,
each wing of his expansive castle held nearly twenty rooms, each modeled after
a different gemstone or precious metal. The Rose Quartz room was quite possibly
her favorite, then the Sapphire, and then Tourmaline. Emma currently occupied
the Emerald room, but because he felt it might have seemed too dark for her, he
created the opal bed and armoire to brighten it up for her. Killian asked her
if she wanted to switch to any of the other rooms, but she declined. That was
the room that he had picked out for her—the one that he painstakingly crafted
items for her stay—so felt too attached to leave.
one is your room?” Emma blurted out in the middle of their exploration. She had
no idea what came over her, asking such a personal question like that. She felt
so embarrassed, but he simply smiled at her, and said, “My room is actually on
the first floor.”
The storm howled with the force of a dragon’s wings, wind and rain battering the stone relentlessly. The old dragon stared out at the storm, his heart beating in time to the incessant lightning strikes and their following rumbles of thunder. He was sitting in what had once been the gate to a castle. The castle had been built on a outcropping in the side of a mountain, with a long, winding road the only way up to the gate, and had been one of his conquests when he was younger and the fire in his belly burned brighter.
The castle was connected to a system of tunnels large enough for a dragon to move freely through them, even a dragon of his size. He was proud of his size, the great strength that resided in each of his limbs. He was proud of his scales, the same shimmering color as the gold coins that filled his treasure room. He was proud of his wings, two leathery expanses each twice the length of his massive body when unfurled. He was proud of his fangs and claws, sharp enough to tear through metal and stone with ease. Most importantly, he was proud of his breath, his fire that could melt anything.
But for all his pride, he did little. He was old, and raiding towns and villages no longer held much pleasure for him. His treasure horde was larger than that of any other dragon he knew, and he had no need for more. He could now sleep for decades before the hunger in his belly forced him to hunt. These days his time not spent in deep sleep was spent watching.
This night he watched as a large group of humans, royals he guessed from their attire, struggling through the storm. They moved along the base of the road that skirted the edge of his mountain, no idea that a dragon lived in the old ruined castle above them. He supposed they could have made a good meal, but he was not hungry, so he let them past without trouble. He turned around and stomped deeper into his tunnels, down to his treasure room deeper into the mountain.
What he did not know was that one of his smaller tunnels, though still very large for humans, one long forgotten since he had stopped being able to fit through it long ago, opened up near where the procession was moving. Not could he have possibly imagined that a small human could find this tunnel and find their way into his treasure room.