Chapter Text
Courfeyrac did not know how he got where he was now. It had been a pleasant day, they had been out on horseback and Marius had talked about the ball to come, about Courfeyrac's old boots and that he needed a new pair of trousers if he wished to join him and his grandfather – the king – at the high table. And now he was standing on a clearing in the woods surrounding the castle, his calf hurting from the bloody gash the trap had inflicted on him and was facing four dangerous-looking men, wearing leather cuirasses and leather masks while their dragons had surrounded them.
“Please, there has to be a way how we can negotiate this.”, stuttered Marius while the tallest of the men motioned to one of his companions and said in a by the leather mask muffled voice: “Cuff him.”
“You don't know who you are challenging here, you stupid cowards!”, warned Courfeyrac and stepped forward, feeling the sharp pinch of a blade between his shoulder blades immediately.
“And gag this one.”, ordered the tallest, motioning to Courfeyrac, “He talks too much.”
“You don't know who you are kidnapping here.”, warned Courfeyrac, anger boiling in his guts, “You will be hunted like animals if you do that.”
“Do you think we are not being hunted already?”, asked another person, a green shirt poking out under the leather armour, tousled black hair standing up from the wind he had been faced moments ago. The beasts were huffing in the undergrowth behind them, Courfeyrac dreading to look at them.
“You are criminals.”, he snapped back.
“You make us criminals.”, said the man behind him while shackles closed around Marius' and his own wrists.
“So, who gets to take our plunder?”, chuckled the one in the green and nudged the tallest.
“Bahorel.”, ordered the man and nodded to the guard behind Courfeyrac, “Let's go. We've been here far too long.”, he warned then and turned around, striding with long steps to the tall, lean, red dragon waiting by the edge of the clearing, raising a leg obedient to help her rider up onto the saddle on her back.
“Come on, arsehole.”, grumbled the guard called Bahorel and tugged at Courfeyrac's shackles while he pushed Marius hard towards the largest dragon Courfeyrac had ever seen, “Time to go, Your Highness.”
He spat the title in disgust and the two men who had not yet left – the green shirted and one wearing a crumpled cap – chuckled amused about Marius stumbling towards the gigantic animal.
The dragon watched them warily. It was a huge beast and Courfeyrac had never seen the likes of it – not even as First Hunter of the kingdom. It was huge, its shoulder towering Courfeyrac by about a whole meter. It was of a bright orange and ruffled its feather-like scales threatening when they stepped closer. The dragon was long limbed and slender, the claws at the edges of the wings looking more like hands than claws and the snout was long like the beak of a bird.
Marius whimpered and Courfeyrac stepped back a step when the black eyes of the dragon turned to them and she hissed. The big, burly man with a neck like a bull – Bahorel? – stepped to her and patted her nostrils carefully, whispering fondly to her while his fingers were dancing over the scales.
Wind caught Courfeyrac's hair and he ducked when a shadow flew over the clearing. Marius and he stumbled back while the red dragon swung herself into the air. The tall man was half standing in the stirrups, the reigns held in one fist while the long, slender wings of the dragon raised them into the air, hovering over the other two dragons left.
“Hurry up!”, called the man and the dragon darted nearly vertically up into the sky, the man and the animal vanishing in the blue with incredible speed.
The two remaining men strode to a black dragon with the burly body of a race that was called badger catcher. Courfeyrac knew those dragons because he had hunted one down the week before. They were a type three dragon, came in black and grey and were usually to be found in dense woods. This dragon was a lean female, glossy black with blue sparkling eyes and a sharp cut snout, resembling the prey it hunted so happily more in appearance than in danger.
“Always bossing us around...”, muttered the man in the green shirt and used the raised hind leg of the dragon to climb up onto her back behind the saddle, the man with the cap gripping the reins and climbing into the saddle. He shrugged his shoulders and said over his shoulder to the one in green: “You know how uneasy he gets in the open. Need help, Bahorel?”
“Nope!”, called Bahorel who stepped away from his dragon and smirked, “I've convinced Lamia to not eat them so now we should be fine. See you at home.”
“All right!”, called the man with the cap back and pushed his thighs into the side of the dragon, the majestic animal setting off a little more clumsy than the red dragon of the tall man, needing many more flaps of her enormous wings to leave the ground and rise over the trees than the red one. It was an earth-dragon after all.
Bahorel tugged something out of a saddle bag and threw it over Courfeyrac and Marius who nearly collapsed under the weight of the chain net. Marius squeaked and Courfeyrac started protesting, but the dragon came towards them, glowering. He ducked and dragged Marius behind his back, ready to protect the prince with his life. Bahorel laughed.
“Unless you want to be sliced into pieces by her claws, I would hold still.”, he said and swung himself into the saddle with ease, not using the offered leg of his dragon. If Courfeyrac wouldn't know better he thought that the dragon nearly rolled her eyes about that little show but she couldn't, of course, she was just a dragon.
The wind from the wings of the – judging from the wingspan and height of the animal – type four dragon threw them off their feet while Bahorel laughed again. The dragon rose, then grabbed the chain net and started dragging.
Courfeyrac saw their chance to escape, because the net lay only loosely over them, the dragon would lift it off, they could run, Bahorel would not be able to follow them on dragonback through the trees, they would flee. But the dragon caught onto a rope and the chain net tightened at the bottom and up they went.
Marius clawed his fingers into Courfeyrac's arm while they were swooped off the ground and dangled in the air, rising ever faster into the evening sky while Bahorel leaned down to see if they were still trapped and laughed when he saw Marius' wide eyes and Courfeyrac's pale face. After passing the tree tops, the dragon sped towards the distant outline of the mountain ridge at the borders of the kingdom. Marius groaned and Courfeyrac struggled to turn to him.
“Are you all right?”, shouted Marius over the noise of the wind in their ears before Courfeyrac could say something.
“Of course, how are you?”, he shouted back.
Marius scowled and pinched his arm like he always did when he was about to reprimand Courfeyrac.
“You were hurt, idiot, I saw the blood. How is your leg?”, scolded Marius and motioned to Courfeyrac's left leg, dangling out of the net, a few splatters of blood colouring the white stockings he wore.
“It's but a scratch!”, said Courfeyrac and waived all concerns off, “We should better worry about what's going to happen to you...”
“To us!”
“I'm not as important as you!”
“And that's not true!”, shot Marius back and glared at Courfeyrac, brooking no argument.
Courfeyrac rolled his eyes and struggled against the net a little to get into a little more comfortable position.
“I know my place.”
“You're my best friend.”
“I'm your only friend.”, smiled Courfeyrac and nudged Marius friendly while the prince rolled his eyes this time.
“Where do you think they're taking us?”, asked Marius and wrapped one hand around one of the chains to stabilize himself.
“It will be definitely no spa-holiday.”, sighed Courfeyrac and narrowed his eyes while the mountains came ever closer, “But it could be a skiing trip to a log hut in those mountains.”
Marius shook his head about Courfeyrac who did not even loose his quirky sense of humour in the face of the threat they were facing right now. And that was what Marius liked about him. If Courfeyrac would not be as positive as he was, Marius would have probably flipped out by now.
After a few more moments, the mountains were so close that Courfeyrac feared his foot would hit one of the tops. The dragon manoeuvred majestically through the air and was heading towards a vast mountain that looked like its top had been ripped off, leaving a topless pin. The dragon descended further and further until Courfeyrac saw a crack in the surface of the pin where the dragon was heading. Hoovering over the crack, Bahorel looked down and gave commandos to the dragon who was slowly and with a lot of flapping descending into the crack.
Courfeyrac and Marius could not believe their eyes as they passed the crack and found themselves in a dome-like cave within the mountain, flickering electric light flooding the vast space in which they were still descending. Courfeyrac could see the red and the black dragon by the side of what seemed to be the landing space, the red one proudly sitting on her hind legs, chest puffed out, neck long, head cocked while the black female lay on her belly, legs crossed, head placed on them, close to nodding off.
When the chain net hit the ground and the dragon above them let go, both dragons looked interested and the black one even licked her lips. Courfeyrac shuddered and thought about the cow they had seen a type two dragon had killed a few days ago: guts ripped out and scattered over the space of four square meters and wondered if those men would let the dragons eat him and only keep Marius as hostage.
Hands closed around the chain net while the orange type-four dragon landed in the back of the cave and Bahorel slid down. Courfeyrac looked up when the weight was lifted from him and saw the man in the green shirt loosen the net from them. He did not wear the flight-mask anymore and smiled wickedly at Courfeyrac.
He was barely older than himself, had the shadow of a dark beard on his cheeks and chin and a nose that looked like having been broken multiple times. His green eyes were glinting mischievously under too dense eyebrows and his hair was a mess of untamed, black curls springing around his face. In other circumstances, Courfeyrac could imagine that he was a good man to have a drink and a laugh with.
“Look at our little birdies, all scared by the big, bad net!”, pouted the man and laughed while Courfeyrac growled at him.
“Stop talking crap, Grantaire.”, commanded the tall man striding towards them again while his dragon straightened up even more now that her rider was around.
“As you command, oh Fearless Leader.”, teased the man obviously called Grantaire and dropped a curtsey to the tall man who glowered at him.
“Feuilly”, snapped the tall man and the fourth of their captivators came forward after patting his dragon's black snout, “You get those two to the cells. And lock them up properly.”
Feuilly, the man with the cap which was now wedged under his arm, came forward and seemed horrified while he watched the tall man cross his arms slowly and in a slightly threatening way.
“Enjolras, you don't mean...?”, stuttered Feuilly and went white as a sheet, his freckles standing out against the pale skin under the flock of ginger hair.
“What do you think we have the chains for if we never use them?”, snapped Enjolras, seemingly growing tired of the reluctance of his companions.
“I thought for nice little sex games...”, mock-sighed Grantaire and crossed his arms, leaning against Bahorel's upper arm who had stepped to the group now, chuckling about the remark of the shorter man.
“Shut up, you idiot!”, snapped Enjolras and glared threatening at Grantaire who just chuckled and raised his hands to fend off the anger of the blond man who was actually looking even more gorgeous with dangerously glinting blue eyes, his sharp cut face with the high cheekbones and angelic features nearly glowing in the raw light of the flickering electric lights.
“If you're done discussing how to detain us, could we please go on and figure out what you want?!”, asked Courfeyrac a little too cheeky because the threatening eyes were now glinting at him.
“No one was talking to you.”, snapped Enjolras and stepped towards him, Marius taking a step back behind Courfeyrac while Enjolras was towering over Courfeyrac. He was looking up in the blue eyes, not flinching, unblinking. He saw that Enjolras was used to people backing down from that stare and there was a short second of insecurity flinching over his face.
“Well, if you wouldn't be shouting that much, I wouldn't have mistaken you not talking to me.”, stated Courfeyrac in a very calm voice and saw the redness rise in Enjolras' face about his tone, “If you want to lead, you clearly need to work on your managerial qualities. Less shouting, more guidance.”
“Careful, Hunter.”, snarled Enjolras, his eyes glinting dangerous, his face red from anger.
“I've only just started, Goldilocks.”, grinned Courfeyrac while Enjolras opened his mouth to snap at him again when a shape darkened the opening of the cave.
Enjolras looked up as well as the others. The most humongous dragon glided through the air down into the cave. Courfeyrac was not sure whether it was a female or male dragon but nevertheless he was totally in awe. The dragon had the physique of a humongous panther, the scales were midnight blue with darker and lighter specks lingering all over the muscular body. There where hints of gold glinting while the dragon landed smoothly, intelligent eyes scanning the little assembled crowd while it lifted a leg to help the rider slide down the muscular paw to the ground.
He was tall, maybe as tall as Enjolras, but stronger built. His shoulders were wider and more toned than Enjolras' and his shoulder-to-waist-ratio made Courfeyrac's mouth go dry. He kept striding towards them with long, forceful steps and dragged the leather mask from his head while approaching them. And if Courfeyrac had had troubles with his shoulder-to-waist-ratio and his ridiculously sexy long and finely toned legs, he was utterly lost now.
That dragon rider was the most gorgeous, most beautiful and definitely sexiest man Courfeyrac had ever seen and he had lived at the court for at least four years now. His skin was the colour of caramel, his eyes were of the colour of ebony and his hair – trimmed to a fashionable and absolutely perfect undercut – looked so soft in the light of the flickering bulbs that Courfeyrac's fingers twitching from the urge to run through that hair. His heart was speeding and he did not really know that his mouth was standing agape until Grantaire pushed it shut with one finger.
“Tell me this is not true!”, half whined the new arrival as he approached Enjolras, “Tell me you didn't kidnap the heir to the throne and his...”, the man turned to Courfeyrac and he felt how he blushed and was staring with wide eyes while the rider looked him up and down once, raised eyebrows, blank face. He dragged a pair of glasses out of his trousers and put them on, looked at Courfeyrac again and continued with a short shake of the head, “His man-servant!”
Courfeyrac nearly chocked on the wrong title and spat: “Excuse me?!”
Everyone was turning to Courfeyrac now – Enjolras infuriated, the sexy new arrival surprised, Grantaire close to tears from biting back laughter, Feuilly and Bahorel annoyed and Marius terrified – who was staring at the new arrival. He raised his eyebrows and said: “I am not a man-servant. I am Courfeyrac, First Hunter of the realm and whipping boy of his Majesty Marius the First.”
The man was looking at him for a moment longer, then he turned to Enjolras again and asked: “Didn't we agree on a more moderate approach to this, Enj? Didn't we talk about talking to his Highness first and not just kidnapping him? What happened to more moderate, less threatening?”
“And where did us get this approach?”, asked Enjolras heated and straightened up in front of the new arrival, “We are hiding away in a mountain, Romeo and Lucky haven't been out in two months for they're top of the black list and we can not show our faces in public ever again because of this system, because of their superficiality. I think we are past the point of talking. We need to act!”
“This goes too far, Enjolras. Nobody should be hurt by our actions.”, said the new arrival calmly and watched Enjolras glare at him surprised, then gesturing at Courfeyrac and Marius.
“Are they hurt? Do they look to you like they are hurt?”, asked Enjolras and stared the man down, “Because they aren't. We didn't do anything to them.”
“That doesn't look like nothing, Enj.”, said the new arrival and pointed at Courfeyrac's leg where the blood slowly dried on the gash.
“That was not us!”, protested Enjolras and motioned in an annoyed gesture to Courfeyrac, “It's not my fault if he's too dull to look out for traps!”
“Hey!”, exclaimed Courfeyrac and intended to step towards the blond man, but Marius clawed his hand into his velvet doublet and held him back, motioning with his chin towards the red dragon in the background who had gotten up when Courf had made a threatening move towards her rider. Courfeyrac glared at the beast but backed down, turning back to the argument in front of him.
“It really wasn't our fault!”, cut in Feuilly, “It wasn't even planned. We went out to empty the traps and when Swoboda landed, his horse reared up and threw him onto the trap.”
The gorgeous rider examined Feuilly's face thoroughly who did not look away until he got asked: “Really?!”
Grantaire groaned and nodded exaggerated while he nearly chanted: “Yes, he's telling the truth! Did Feuilly ever lie to you? Can we please lock those two up now and go on to get some wine?!”
Both the new rider and Enjolras were shooting reprimanding glances at Grantaire – although Enjolras' look was just a little bit more venomous than from his companion – but Bahorel laughed and stepped forward, hinting a bow at Enjolras.
“I'm with R and volunteer to take them to the cell until we know what to do with them... My suggestion by the way: Swoboda and Lamia are almost always hungry!”, grinned Bahorel mischievously while Marius paled. Bahorel laughed even more but grabbed Courfeyrac's elbow to lead him away.
“And please have Joly check on his leg!”, called the rider after them and hesitated in the dome-like cave while Enjolras, Grantaire and Feuilly blundered to a tunnel to their left, followed by the black badger catcher and Enjolras' red dragon. Courfeyrac kept glancing over his shoulder, watching the rider watching them until his dragon nudged his shoulder with its snout, demanding his attention.
A few moments later, Courfeyrac and Marius had been locked up behind rusty iron bars in a very narrow cave, laid out with rushes and straw, like a birdcage. Courfeyrac kept standing, his hand curling around one of the bars while Marius slumped down on the ground, sighing a little resigned.
While Courfeyrac kept staring out into the tunnel – barely feeling his bloody gash – his thoughts lingering with the gorgeous eyes, the fine neck and the thin lips of the nameless rider, Marius cleared his throat and asked quietly: “Do you think Feuilly spoke the truth? About how they found us?”
“You mean how they kidnapped us?”, grumbled Courfeyrac and sat down next to his friend and sovereign, “I don't know. All I can tell you is that that dragon... Swoboda? Swooped down and I ended up in a trap before they put us in shackles...”
“Could really have been an accident...”, mused Marius and rubbed some dirt off his trousers.
“Or just a well disguised attack.”, suggested Courfeyrac and leaned his head back against the stone wall. His leg started thudding a little while Marius asked: “What do we do now?”
“I suppose duck our heads and be quiet. We don't have much choice, I'm afraid.”, sighed Courfeyrac and put his hand onto his knee where a small spider tried to wander up his thigh.
Silence stretched on a little between them while Courfeyrac's thoughts returned to the calm voice of the rider that had sounded sweet like honey and soft like velvet. Courfeyrac smiled to himself about his sappy comparison. The superficial, romantic way of thinking like the courtier at court did started rubbing off. Marius shifted a little and stated carefully: “I thought they would be a little more... vicious.”
Courfeyrac laughed and winked at Marius.
“They had quite good manners for rebels, you're right.”, he agreed.
“What did you expect?”, interrupted a voice from the tunnel, “Three headed hydras and black winged gargoyles?”
Courfeyrac and Marius whirled around and found a young man standing at the bars, in one hand a leather satchel, a walking cane in the other, smiling wide. He was pale and thin, sleek brown hair with faint grey strands over an open face, dark circles under dark grey eyes. He was smiling even wider as the two prisoners set eyes at the dragons accompanying him.
There were two of them, flapping their wings over the shoulders of the man. They were tiny, the size of a thrush but the lithe bodies of lizards. One was slightly bigger than the other, its scales in brighter reds and oranges than the smaller one which was mainly coloured in dark red and burgundy colours. Their eyes were glowing in a warm orange bordering on amber while they kept gazing very interested at Marius and Courfeyrac, their tongues shooting out to test the air from time to time.
“I'm Joly.”, introduced the man himself, putting two fingers to his temple, waiving them at them afterwards, winking, “And these are my dragons Phoenix”, he pointed at the brighter one, “And that sweetheart here is Chimera. She might try nibbling at your ears. But don't worry, she means no harm. It's her way of saying hello.”
“You have two pixie fireballs?”, gasped Marius and was on his feet while Joly opened the bar-door and stepped into the cell, accompanied by his dragons who flew the most complicated manoeuvres in a breakneck speed to see almost everything of the prisoners at once.
“Yes.”, grinned Joly proud, putting his satchel down, “You know the race?”
“I read about them.”, confessed Marius fascinated and offered Chimera his lower arm to land on, “They're supposed to be the most gentle and friendly dragons alive. I've always wanted to see them.”
“Did you?”, snapped Courfeyrac bothered because Marius normally loathed the hours they had had to learn races, characteristics and dangers of dragons as boys.
“They're indeed friendly.”, smiled Joly while he awkwardly sat down, his left knee obviously stiff, “But try snatching Phoenix' food away and you'll see that they can be as furious and vicious as citron parachutes.”
The citron parachute was a class four dragon, nearly extinct and said to be the most dangerous, most cruel and wildest dragons alive.
“I keep that in mind, then.”, grinned Marius and allowed Chimera to sniff at his ear while Phoenix landed flapping wildly on his hair.
“Can I see your leg?”, asked Joly Courfeyrac then, “R said you've been hurt.”
“It's nothing, really!”, tried Courfeyrac to fend him off, but Joly just scowled reprimanding at him and tugged a scissor out of the satchel to cut open Courfeyrac's trousers.
“Ow.”, he sighed while he caught a glance at Courfeyrac's calf, lifting off the bloody cloth, “That doesn't look like nothing, my friend. On the first glance I think you won't need stitches, but I still need to clean it and patch it up in order to have it heal properly.”
“Do what you must.”, surrendered Courfeyrac and crossed his arms while Marius was still busy with the dragons who had taken an instant liking in him.
While Joly was cleaning the gash and Marius was playing with the dragons, Courfeyrac was watching the animals who he had been taught to fear and hate. Those two were – in a lizardy kind of way – actually quite adorable.
“How come you have two?”, he asked quietly, “I've never met someone with two...”
“Did you ever meet someone with a dragon before you killed the animal and put them into jail and bothered to talk to them?”, asked Joly with a crooked smile that was not really hostile, but not really comforting either. Courfeyrac couldn't hold his gaze and looked away, pulling his shoulders up a little in an attempt to shrug.
“Sorry, I didn't mean to be cruel.”, said Joly and smiled apologetic while he dabbed antiseptic onto the cleaned gash, “I guess that's what we're doing for a living. I help people and you kill innocent animals and put people into jail for living in a committed relationship with one of the most faithful, loyal and loving creatures on earth.”
“I got the message.”, grumbled Courfeyrac and flinched when Joly dabbed a little harder, “I just... I mean... they are dangerous.”
“Do they look dangerous to you?”, asked Joly and cast a glance over his shoulder to where Marius sat. Courfeyrac followed his look and saw what Joly saw – and what commander Javert would deny until his dying day. Marius sitting on the floor, Phoenix balancing on his knee, flicking his tongue through the air while his little front claws were wrapped around one of Marius' fingers while Chimera had wrapped herself around Marius' neck, nibbling at his ear very tenderly.
“You know...”, said Joly quietly while he drew out a clean, white dressing from his satchel, “I know you heard about Enjolras' speeches. I know you know them. Everyone knows them in the kingdom.”
“I've read that craaaaa...”, Courfeyrac swallowed before he could utter the word but Joly just smirked and carried on dressing the wound.
“It's no crap. Do you think he exaggerates when he says that dragons are not harmful or dangerous? Did it ever cross your mind that maybe your scholars are lying when they paint the dragons as savage predators without any compassion or feelings?”
“I... ehm...”, stuttered Courfeyrac and rubbed his neck while his thoughts whirled wildly, “How did that happen?”, he asked instead while pointing at Joly's leg, yearning to change the subject.
The young man smiled to himself while he was doing the finishing touches to the dressing. He glanced up at Courfeyrac and teased: “I bet a barrel of beer that you are right now thinking that a dragon did this!”
“I don't!”, protested Courfeyrac although he had a very bad concious about thinking whether or not Lamia or Swoboda were big enough to eat a whole human leg. Joly just shook his head smiling, fixing the dressing with quick fingers. Then he leaned back and smiled at Courfeyrac.
“A guard managed to cut all ligaments and muscles in the crook of my knee when I tried defending a boy and his dolphin-snout dragon pup. They left me in the woods to bleed to death and when I was finally found, the farmers weren't able to patch met back together properly. Ever since my knee remained stiff.”, declared Joly and shrugged, that happy little smile still present on his face although the memory must surely be painful.
“A high price to pay for saving a dragon.”, mused Courfeyrac and watched Joly's hands that were fastening the dressing carefully.
“A price worth it.”, corrected Joly.
Courfeyrac could not look at him anymore and watched his own hands, thinking that some of the guards in his command would still leave injured enemies or rebels in the woods to die although Courfeyrac had forbidden such practices. He felt bile raise in his throat and gulped hectically.
“I found Chimera when she was not bigger than my thumb. She was just a hatchling and her wing was broken. Phoenix swooped in and tried to defend her and well... one thing lead to another and so I ended up with those two. And why there are two... Jehan has this theory about having as many dragons in our life as people that truly really love us.”, answered Joly the initial question because he sensed how awkward Courfeyrac felt about the course of the conversation.
“So you mean...?!”, asked Courfeyrac and raised both eyebrows, clearly in awe of this lithe young man who obviously had more to him than the first look suggested.
“Bousset and Musichetta, the loves of my life. I'll introduce you to them at some point.”, smiled Joly and Courfeyrac had to bite down the cooing that would surely come out of his mouth if Joly continued to look so in love and totally happy.
“I'd like that.”, smiled Courfeyrac and wondered since when rebels were such nice people. Joly beamed at him and tugged his cane to his side.
“All right, keep the leg still... which won't be that much of a problem since you're being locked up... and otherwise... well, I'll come to check on you tomorrow. Phoe, Chimmy, we're leaving.”, said Joly and struggled up, swatting at Courfeyrac's hands when he wanted to help him, “Get your hands off, I'm no old man!”
“You sure walk like one!”, joked Courfeyrac but remained on the floor while Joly laughed and whistled through his teeth, his dragons hovering at his side at once.
“I'll see you tomorrow, have a good night. And don't let any dragons bite.”, smirked Joly and left afterwards, Chimera lingering a little longer to sniff at Courfeyrac's hair while his heart was beating double speed, his mind torturing him with images of the dragon setting his hair on fire or eating his nose. But she didn't. She sniffed, nuzzled her snout into his curls and set off then.
“They are amazing!”, went Marius into raptures as soon as Joly was out of earshot, “Did you see them? They were gorgeous and so careful and interested. Did you see how Chimera was gnawing at the hem of my shirt to test the ornamentation stitchery? She was so cute. And Phoenix is all like pretending that he's such a strong, brave boy but he really likes to have his belly scratches...”
“Are you serious?”, asked Courfeyrac and raised both eyebrows at Marius, grabbing his shoulder when he came to sit next to him, “I mean... it's one thing to be shy around girls but to seek for a substitute in dragons is just sick!”
“You're such an arsehole!”, grinned Marius and punched Courfeyrac friendly into the thigh, “You know I always were fascinated with dragons.”
“Yes and you got me to be First Hunter... which was the worst idea you ever had by the way.”, grumbled Courfeyrac and started massaging his thigh over the knee on the leg with the gash. There was a funny sort of burning there and he tried to ignore it as best as he could. Most likely the antiseptic ointment Joly had poured into the wound...
“I don't think so. Would you rather have been a normal soldier for the rest of your life? Inuring you by following dull orders without the possibility of own thought?”, teased Marius and smiled fondly at Courfeyrac who narrowed his eyebrows.
“You're right, I should be grateful for being First Hunter, wounded and locked away in some mountain while the rebels probably already think about the amount of ransom for you and what to do with my head after it was detached from my body.”, grumbled Courfeyrac and felt his head starting to hurt.
“You are such a pessimist.”, grinned Marius and leaned into him, “If they wanted your death, they surely wouldn't have tended to your wound. I think what Joly said was right. Maybe our scholars do exaggerate things a little...”
“So you think that burnt down village and the dead farmer and his family was just an exaggeration?”, asked Courfeyrac gloomily while the headache got more painful by the heartbeat.
“No, of course not.”, sighed Marius, “But I think... maybe we don't know enough about dragons... and their behaviour. Maybe we could, you know, learn about them here. Maybe we can prevent them from attacking in the first place when we know why they attack!?”
“Javert would behead you... prince or no prince... if he heard you talking like that.”, mused Courfeyrac and closed his eyes, feeling the world around him starting to spin slightly.
“Pft... Javert!”, snorted Marius, “He's still under my order and theoretically under yours too. He might be a fierce enemy of the dragons and the rebellion, but even he is a sensible and intelligent man. If he would listen and learn more, we could change things.”
“You're... You're living in a dream world, Your Highness.”, grumbled Courfeyrac who felt his heart speed up, the burning in his leg radiate into his lower abdomen.
“I'm idealist...”, chuckled Marius, “And I believe in the good in people... and dragons, for that matter. Swoboda could have swallowed us whole if she had wanted to, but she had not even made an attempt to threaten us. The scholars say each dragon is hostile and aggressive by nature. That was not the case with one of these dragons we saw today... I think we might be having a completely wrong picture about them.”
“We might, we might... ah... not!”, said Courfeyrac pressed, the burning and his growing headache turning unbearable. His vision was blurry and so he only half saw how Marius turned to him... and jumped in shock.
“Shit, Courfeyrac, what's wrong?”, he gasped and Courfeyrac felt Marius' cool hands on his cheeks but could not focus on Marius' face close to his.
“Don't... ah... Don't know... it... ah shit... it burns...”, gasped Courfeyrac, nearly unable to talk while the pain kept roaring through his organism.
He crouched down into himself and started shaking, sweat pouring from his forehead and over his spine. He only gradually recognized how Marius got to his feet and rushed to the bars, shouting for help. The pain got too much to bear and Courfeyrac zoned out until everything around him was searing black and burning pain.
:<∙>:
Cool.
It was cool for the first time Courfeyrac could remember. Had there ever been a time when he had not felt like burning alive?
His thoughts were foggy and he had trouble surfacing from the mist of unconsciousness and feverish dreams. He felt something cool on his forehead and a calm presence by his side. His eyes opened blinking while he could make nothing out but shapes and dim light. He closed his eyes again and tried turning his head.
For the first time he could move slowly without the sensation that his muscles were ripped apart by claws ablaze with fire. He sighed deeply once more, his lungs finally able to fill with air after being pressed by pain and tremors of his aching muscles.
Fingertips, cool and soothing, were taking the cool cloth on his forehead away and dabbed over his temples, his forehead and eyes. When the cloth was gone, Courfeyrac opened his eyes and finally saw clear again.
The person at his bed was gorgeous and he slowly remembered that he had seen him already, in a brown leather trouser and a flaxen coloured linen shirt under a leather cuirass ornamented with blue scales.
He remembered minor details, but not where he had seen him. There had been wrinkles all over his trouser from sitting in a saddle for a long time. There had been a dagger glinting in the shaft of one of his boots. There had been a steep wrinkle between his eyebrows when he talked to a blond man. He had come from heaven.
“Are you an angel?”, asked Courfeyrac, feeling that this question was stupid, but his brain not really able to comprehend why he was asking, why the question was stupid, where he was and what was going on at all. He heard the man chuckle and turn around, watching him with amused and soft eyes while he replaced the cold cloth on his forehead.
“Far from it, I'm afraid.”, said the man and smiled at Courfeyrac whose brain slowly started working properly again, “But I am happy to see you awake. How are you feeling?”
“Confused...”, confessed Courfeyrac and raised an arm to rub his eyes with one hand, “And... and... I don't know. Basically just tired and confused. Where am I?”
“You're in Grantaire's room. He offered to let us take you there so that Joly could have an eye on you.”, supplied the man with his velvety voice an easy explanation. The names triggered a memory in Courfeyrac and he suddenly straightened up, collapsing to the side because his system was not able to handle the rush of blood and adrenaline all of a sudden as Courfeyrac remembered.
“What have you done to me? Where's Marius? I swear, if you did something to him, I will...”, rambled Courfeyrac while he found himself in the arms of the nameless rider who had caught him before he could fall out the narrow bed. His heartbeat against Courfeyrac's cheek was calming and his warmth made him relax and allow the other man to put him back into bed, placing his head carefully on the pillow. Courfeyrac nearly whimpered when the man drew away.
“Marius is quite all right, I assure you. And we are terribly sorry about what happened.”, said the man and sounded distressed. Courfeyrac watched him sit down on the edge of the bed next to his legs, sighing deeply while he folded his hands between his knees, his elbows resting on his knees. He sat there for a moment, hunched over slightly, staring into the rushes on the floor.
“What happened?”, asked Courfeyrac again, feeling exhausted and still so confused, “I can't remember anything after Joly left. How did I get here?”
The man looked up and seemed so very sorry that Courfeyrac felt a pang in his chest. He sighed deeply and averted his eyes before he started explaining to Courfeyrac: “Dragons loath the so called flame root. It's a plant of the family of the root vegetables and grows in clearings all over this wood. The preferred prey of dragons... rabbits, small deer, mice, rats, squirrels... they all feast on those roots because they know no dragon will ever try to eat them when they are near the roots. So we set our traps there to catch the feed for our dragons.”
He hesitated a brief moment which prompted Courfeyrac to state: “I still don't understand.”
The man looked up from the floor and shot a quick look at Courfeyrac in which he saw concern and apologies that were not uttered but conveyed by those beautiful hazel eyes.
“If the juice of the flame root reaches the system of a dragon... or a person, for that matter... it acts like poison. When dragons consume animals who have eaten the root and therefore have the juice seeped into their muscles and changed into certain proteins, it will strengthen their ability to breath fire. For humans... well, if the juice enters a human system, it inflicts burning pains, muscle cramps and eventually heart failure on the victim.”, explained the man slowly, seeing how realisation dawned in Courfeyrac's eyes although he kept quiet.
“We assume that the whole quarrel on the clearing after you stepped into the trap might have damaged a few of those roots and the juice might have entered your organism through the wound on your calf. We... Joly and I should have thought about that... We are... we are so sorry that we didn't see the symptoms earlier. We had to cut out the wound and stitch it up afterwards... If Marius had not called for us at once...”, said the man and his voice broke while he had to look away.
“How long was I gone?”, asked Courfeyrac and tried to straighten up on an elbow, which he slowly managed, “And how do you know all that? Are you some kind of a genius?!”
The man smiled humble and blushed but did not look at Courfeyrac while he choose to answer only the first question: “You were unconscious for the first three days. Then you were in and out of conciousness for another two days. Today is the first day you properly woke up.”
“So you saved my life?”, asked Courfeyrac and was horrified how soft and fond his voice sounded. He did not even know the man's name, he could not talk to him like that!
The man shook his head, finally able to look at Courfeyrac again, most fondly and relieved that he did not jump at his throat about learning that he had been poisoned.
“No, Joly did the main work. He's a very good healer. I assisted him and staid with you at night.”, declared the man and reached out to flip the cool cloth over, his fingers brushing over Courfeyrac's skin, raising goosebumps on his neck.
“I'm not that kind of a boy who spends the night with a man whose name I don't know...”, said Courfeyrac and had not really meant it to sound so suggestive... hadn't he?! He was smiling at the man at his bed and saw delighted how his ears turned slightly red as he rewarded the cheeky statement with a shy smile.
“I'm sorry, I think I missed the opportunity to introduce myself back when we first met. I am Combeferre.”, he apologised and smiled once more.
“Nice to meet you, Combeferre. Although I'd prefer to wear a little more than a nightshirt next time I get to be introduced to someone.”, he joked, only then recognizing that he was – beside a thin white linen shirt that reached to his knees – naked.
“That surely can be arranged.”, said Combeferre with a smile in his eyes and got up, “I think I'll go and get Marius. He will be delighted to see you up and joking already. He was worrying his head off about you.”
With those words he turned around and intended to leave the small room, but Courfeyrac – being his usual unthinking, rushed, boisterous self – called his name. And started to curse himself silently. His mouth had again been faster than his brain and Combeferre turned around, raising both eyebrows in a silent question at the patient.
Courfeyrac's thoughts were racing. This was not good, not good at all. Last time he had blurted out the name of a boy he liked, he had ended in bed with him two days later. He liked Combeferre and thought that he was the most gorgeous human being he had ever seen in his whole life and did not want to rush things or do things he would regret. Also, Combeferre was a rebel, an enemy of the house he had sworn an oath to and Courfeyrac was still a prisoner. This had been a bad idea and Courfeyrac felt the blush on his cheeks while his thoughts raced.
“Thank you...”, me managed to stutter a moment later, seeing how a small smile blossomed on Combeferre's face before he hinted a small bow and replied: “My pleasure.”
When he left, those words kept circling through Courfeyrac's brain. He could have said you're welcome or it's all right or don't worry. But he said pleasure. What did that mean? Pleasure was good, surely, that meant that Combeferre was not despising him. It would have broken him if such a sexy person would have despised him, that was for sure. But what meant Combeferre by pleasure? Was it possible that he had taken a liking in the clumsy First Hunter who had been capable of poisoning himself with a root while fighting with Bahorel and Feuilly? Or was he just an overly polite person?
Courfeyrac made a mental note to observe how Combeferre reacted in general to expressions of gratitude. Maybe he could figure out through an observation what Combeferre had meant. Shit, if that man would not be as gorgeous and sexy and witty and intelligent as he was, Courfeyrac would definitely not have such a hard time sorting his thoughts around him.
As it turned out, Marius had had a splendid time while Courfeyrac had fought a burning fight with a poison spreading in his organism. He bolted into the room a few moments after Combeferre had left, glowing from the beaming smile and accompanied by Phoenix and Chimera and another dragon Courfeyrac had not yet seen.
The dragon was as small as Phoenix and Chimera although built completely different. On the first glance Courfeyrac had thought that it was a swallow circling around Marius, a very large swallow with glowing green eyes and a snout shaped like a beak, tiny claws and even tinier grey-shimmering horns on its head while the front legs were joined to its wings. It was a magnificent flyer, making Chimera and Phoenix who were graceful flyers as well seem like plump little balls in the air.
“I am so glad you are awake!”, rejoiced Marius and flung himself at Courfeyrac, wrapping him up in a breathtaking embrace, “I was so afraid you would die!”
“You crush me!”, complained Courfeyrac but hugged back as well, glad to see his friend so relieved.
“Sorry.”, smiled Marius while a movement by the door caught his eye. Joly limped into the room, a satchel in one hand, his trusted cane in the other, whistling quietly to make Chimera take off again after she had planted herself in Courfeyrac's locks to nuzzle her snout into his ear.
“You look much better, my friend.”, said Joly and ushered Marius and the dragons away while the swallow-shaped dragon kept circling around his head in breakneck speed.
“I feel better. And I heard I have to thank you for that.”, said Courfeyrac and allowed Marius to stuff a few more pillows behind his back so that he could sit up easier.
Joly's face fell for a moment, Phoenix on his shoulder rubbing his little head against the side of Joly's neck to comfort and Chimera flapping over to sit on his other shoulder, sticking her nose into his ear as well. Joly smiled a little tormented at Courfeyrac.
“If I had paid better attention I should have seen the discolouration around the wound's edges. I should have smelled the bitter-sweet stench of the root. I should have known.”, apologised Joly and sat down on the bed after shooing off his dragons. Carefully he leaned forward and put his hands around Courfeyrac's neck, searching the neck for something Courfeyrac did not know.
“It wasn't your fault. I should have told you that the wound was still burning after you cleaned and disinfected it. Equal shares of fault, all righ?”, asked Courfeyrac and watched a small smile on Joly's face.
“All right, I can live with that.”, he murmured while he made Courfeyrac open his mouth and stick out his tongue, “Anywhere any burning feeling? Any discomfort? Any cramps?”
“Nope. I am fine. Little tired and a lot hungry, but other than that I am fine.”, declared Courfeyrac while Joly scooped up the cover and looked at Courfeyrac's calf which was not dressed in linen this time.
“We can help with that.”, smiled Joly and took a green ribbon out of his pocket, holding it into the air. The small dragon swooped down from sitting on Marius' head, clasped the ribbon with its snout and darted out of the room and away. Joly chuckled about Courfeyrac's surprised face.
“That's Prokno. He's Éponine's dragon. He's been trained to deliver small messages using the ribbon. We're letting her know that the patient is hungry.”, declared Joly and put the cover back down, patting Courfeyrac's thigh benevolently.
“Are all your dragons called like people from Greek myths?”, asked Courfeyrac astonished about the choice of names of the dragons.
Marius and Joly laughed while Chimera landed next to Courfeyrac's head again, rolling herself into a small ball and nestling her face back into his curls, giving a small humming-purring-grumbling noise that was really lulling to Courfeyrac. Joly watched amused while Phoenix remained on his shoulder.
“Not all of them but a few.”, he answered and winked, “Combeferre and Grantaire are the biggest myth and legend geeks you will find in the whole world and they came up with most of the names. Although Grantaire preferred to call his dragon after his favourite beverage: Syrah.”
“What's Combeferre's dragon called?”, asked Courfeyrac eager and saw how Marius hid a knowing smile before turning away. Courfeyrac scowled at the back of his head which made Joly raise a questioning eyebrow. Courfeyrac did not react but kept looking at Joly instead.
“She's called Parthenope.”, answered Joly and got up afterwards, “But I think you should rest a little more before your dinner arrives. It'll do you good.”
“I'm not tired.”, said Courfeyrac although the humming of Chimera was lulling him back and his eyelids started to flutter.
“Of course you're not.”, smiled Joly and Courfeyrac understood that this small beast next to his head had been trained and instructed to purr next to him until he grew sleepy.
“Unfair.”, he yawned while Joly clicked his tongue and Chimera ascended into the air.
“Not at all.”, smiled Joly while Marius turned to him and said he would stay with Courfeyrac for a while. Courfeyrac did not catch the reply because he was starting to drift back to sleep.