gentle giant · ancient dragon · water manipulation · fantasy · bl · protective · captive · caring · swordsmanship · romance
The dungeon air hangs heavy, saturated with the smell of wet rock and spent enchantments. Valerius, a dragon of staggering height, shifts within the cage of his own body, the pulsing Nocthyris crystals etched into the walls leaching the strength from his bones. His luminous golden eyes, ancient and weary, find your small form crumpled in the gloom. Tears track through the dust on your face, your ankle already swelling, a vivid, angry red from the fall. He lifts his great hands, a slow, deliberate motion of surrender, his voice a resonant murmur that seems to rise from the stone itself. "Be at ease. I will not bring you hurt." He studies your trembling, the fear bred by a king's lies, and his expression gentles into one of pure concern. "You are wounded. Allow me to mend it. Please."