Dragon's Consort

A/N: Heya guys, it's me, FanGirl0207 with another neochampionshipping fic! It's been a long time since I uploaded for this pairing, and so I decided to just get on with it and upload the first chapter. Expect OOC-ness please! Thank you for your attention, I hope you enjoy!

Lance

"The reports keep coming in, Your Majesty," Councilor Samuel Oak said with grimness in his voice. "Just this morning, the Commander of the Wyvern Squad came to me. He told me that some of the Wyverns on the field are acting quiet aggressively. They hissed and snapped at their riders. And this afternoon, another report came, saying that several of our best riders were dismounted during patrol."

The King said nothing as he rested his cheek on his right hand and gazed out of the window. Outside, the sun was setting over Blackthorn, the capital city of Johto Kingdom. The silhouette of wyverns and dragons were dark against the orange sky. Each of them differed in size, but their dances were all graceful. Long serpentine body coiled, its tail lashing out, mighty like a whip, a pair of large wings spread out over the sky, as beautiful as a blooming flower.

"Your Majesty, I'm afraid," Councilor Oak continued. "That if this keeps up any longer, you will completely lose control of the wyverns and dragons. I may not know much about the power that lies within you, but I understand that your power varies according to your mental state."

Still Lance did not say anything.

"It is not easy to be a king, a Dragonlord, and a father all at the same time… You try to bear the burden all by yourself, but you are still a human, despite the power in your blood." The Councilor paused, before he continued, "You need to find yourself a Consort."

A long silence ensued. Outside, the sky was getting darker and darker. The silhouette one by one vanished into the distance. Councilor Samuel Oak made no sign of moving.

Finally, the King let out a tired sigh, "The Councilors really have nothing better to do than to pester me, do they?"

"Your Majesty, the Councilors are only concerned. The reports keep on coming in one after another, you are losing control already. The lives of innocent people are in question here. I suppose that we can crown your first-born son, but-"

"Keep my son away from this," the King said, raising his voice a little. He rose from his seat by the window and gazed at the Councilor. "Keith is only five. He's too young to be a king, let alone a Dragonlord."

"Then I'm afraid you have no other choice. You need to choose a Consort."

Lance closed his eyes and let out a shaky breath. Everything that Councilor Samuel Oak had said was true. He was losing control. The lives of innocent people were in danger. He needed to choose another Consort. He had tried to deny the truth for long enough. But the stubborn truth finally surfaced. He was not strong enough to handle everything; he needed someone to share the burden, someone to keep him sane. For the umpteenth time since he became a king, he cursed the blood that ran through his veins.

Lance gave the Councilor his back as he gazed out of the window again, "What does the Council propose?"

"The Court, Your Majesty."

The King didn't manage to hold back a sigh, "Of course… The Court." The words tasted bitter in his mouth.

"Many eligible young lords and ladies will be there, Your Majesty. I'm sure you will be able to find a Consort of your liking. The fairest, the most handsome, all will gather here in this very city just for you. They will not disappoint."

Lance fell silent once again as he imagined the chaos he needed to face once he agreed to this. What he imagined was so repulsive that he almost opened his mouth to object the proposal. But then he remembered his first-born son, his other children, and all the innocent people in the five United Realms. With a heavy heart, he finally said, "I will choose a Consort."

The Councilor smiled, "Excellent."

Steven

Even after Steven heard it twice, he still couldn't help but stare at his brother with a dumbfounded look on his face. He gazed at his brother's wife, who was smiling at him encouragingly, and then at the young messenger who just crossed the roughest terrains only to deliver an invitation. He then turned to look at his brother again, "I'm not sure-"

His brother let out a sigh, "Let me convey this to you in the simplest words possible," he looked at him with gleaming sky-blue eyes which they both inherited from their mother. "The King is looking for a Consort. All eligible bachelor and bachelorettes are invited to attend this year's court. This messenger brought us our invitation," he waved his hand at the man standing next to him. "We are expected to send someone to Court. I am married. And so is your sister. That leaves only you. And so you're going."

It did sound simpler, but he left some questions unanswered. He stared at his brother for another moment, before he finally opened his mouth, "You're really sending me away to Johto?"

"The King is a thoughtful man, dear brother. He sends us an invitation even though we are just a minor family who inhabit the United Realm's most isolated province," he rolled up the invitation which he had been holding and offered it to Steven. "We should not repay that thoughtfulness with insolence. Go, you have my blessings."

Steven took the invitation from his hand. He really didn't know how to feel. A part of him was excited to know that he had been given a chance to visit the capital city of Johto, but another part of him felt utterly confused. If their father was still alive, Steven was certain he wouldn't agree to it.

His brother noticed the confused look on his face, and said, "Yes, I know what you're thinking, dear brother. Why send a rebellious, stubborn, shameless young lord to court? That's obviously far worse an insult than sending back an apology to the King." He raised his hand to stop the witty remark which he knew would come. "But… You are twenty now. It is time for you to learn about courts and marriages."

Steven scanned through the invitation, "What's there to learn? Courts are sophisticated brothels and marriages are business deals. This whole thing is nothing more than a bed-slave auction."

His brother frowned, and his wife who sat next to him smiled in amusement. "The King is going to choose a Consort," she pointed out. "I think the court this year is going to be very interesting."

"Yes, treacheries, lies and backstabbing," Steven said. "A murder or two, perhaps."

"If you're lucky, then maybe you'll have an audience with the king," she replied. "And if you leave a certain sort of impression," she smiled suggestively, "Who knows?"

"A very appealing idea, but that's very unlikely," Steven shook his head. "There's nothing a King can gain from marrying the brother of a minor lord. And besides, the King's first Consort is a woman, does that not say something about his preference?" He rolled up the invitation and looked at his brother, "But still, I'll go. There are things I want to do in Blackthorn. Thank you for giving entrusting me with this chance, brother. I will try my best to behave," he gave his brother one of his sweetest smiles.

"You better do," despite his words, he knew that behaving was the last thing Steven would do. He was starting to regret his decision.

The journey southward was long and perilous. Since the courting season was scheduled to start in another week, speed was in essence. The palace would have offered a wyvern to carry him to Blackthorn, but the recent instability in the King's mental state had rendered wyvern-riding dangerous, and so he was forced to go there by the land route. He wouldn't mind if he was allowed to go on a horse's back, but unfortunately, the palace had so graciously provided him with a carriage. And so, for the next seven days, he was forced to sit and waited as the scenery outside his window changed at a torturously slow pace.

Southward, the snow grew rarer and rarer, until all of them completely disappeared and the weather became noticeably warmer. The carriage passed through cities and towns, stopped by roadside inns, until at last, it approached Blackthorn city. The magnificent city of white marble came into sight on the morning of the sixth day since he left Rustboro. Amidst all those dome-shaped structures, stood one which was tallest and largest of them all; the royal palace. Steven had travelled with his father to many places when he was young, and he had travelled to even more places by himself when he got older. He had seen mansions, forts, castles and palaces, but none of them were as big as the one at the heart of Blackthorn. Palace of the Dragons, they called it, and it was a fitting name, for several of those long, serpentine creatures were soaring leisurely over it even as Steven approached.

"They came before dawn and left after dusk," the old driver of his carriage told him. "Those things were drawn to the Dragonlord. Nobody knows why. The dragons don't come around as often as the wyverns though. I guess it's for the best. One time a dragon so big came and flew just like that over the palace. The whole Kingdom didn't get to see the sun for three days!"

The carriage rolled on for the whole day, and it was only late into the night that they finally reached the palace. A wide, deep canal encircled the palace like a ring, and there was a wide stone bridge that served as the only path which led into the palace. After the bridge was crossed, the front yard of the palace stretched out far and wide before him, decorated with statues of dragons and the enviably colorful flowers common in the south. The straight path lighted up by strange floating orbs occasionally split up, leading to places Steven can only imagine, but the carriage kept a steady pace straight on, and soon, they arrived at the main entrance.

Steven didn't wait for the driver to open the door for him. As soon as the carriage halted, he flung the door open and stepped outside.

"Finally," he murmured as he looked around. Even though it was dark, Steven didn't feel the least bit tired. On the other hand, he was rather excited; he definitely couldn't wait to start exploring the palace.

"Good evening, my lord." A sound emerged from the main door. Steven turned to look and saw a finely-dressed old man standing at the doorway. He possessed a straight back and a stern face despite his graying hair. "You are Lord Steven of Rustboro, I assume?"

"Yes, I am," Steven replied as he walked up the steps.

"My name is Robert, and I am the steward of the West wing. The west wing is where the lords and ladies who came for the Court are settled in, and it is where I am taking you to now. Please do not concern yourself with your belongings. I will make sure they reach your room safely." He said those words with such a flat tone that Steven concluded that he must have had repeated those words a thousand times. The steward crooked his hand and offered it to Steven, "Shall we, my lord?"

Steven stared for a moment, before he realized that he was expected to slip his arm around the steward's. "Of course."

The interior of the palace was truly a magnificent sight to behold. The ceiling was so high that Steven could barely see the top. The floor was so polished that he could see his own reflection. The lights were so bright that he was struck with a sense of being in a very magical place. The steward led him through stairs and hallways and even more stairs than Steven could imagine. Finally, they came to a stop in front of a room with a rectangular silver plate stuck on it. Written on that place was his name, Lord Steven of Rustboro.

The room behind that door was lavishly furnished, even in the eyes of a lord. The floor was covered in red carpet, and the bed was mounted with pillows. On one corner there was a dressing table and not far from it, a huge wardrobe. A sofa was placed by the window and on it were more pillows that Steven would ever need. A personal bath was behind another door in that room, huge and clean. Steven knelt down to feel the water, and was surprised to find it warm. In the short time it took him to explore his room, the servants brought up his belongings and settled it down by the door. Steven checked through them once, before he turned to the steward and said, "Thank you. That is all."

He respectfully bowed, "Then, I will take my leave. Please rest easy for the night. Tomorrow morning, one of the palace's valets will come to see you. If you need anything, please do not hesitate to ask. Have a good night, my lord."

"And a good night to you too," Steven smiled at him as he closed the door. He waited for several moments, before he opened the door again and looked around the hall. The steward was gone and no one else was around. Quickly, Steven fastened his cloak around himself, and sneaked out of his room.

Lance

The full moon was out that night.

Lance had settled down in the quietest corner of the palace's garden with his only trusted friend, gazing up at the sky and remembering the old days when he was not a king. Things were much easier back then. Clair was still alive, she was the one meant to be Queen and Dragonlord, and he had all the freedom of a second-born. He still remembered the places he flew over with his wyvern, and the dragons he met. Everything changed when Clair passed away. He was whisked back into the palace, told that he was going to be the next king and Dragonlord, and kept under strict surveillance by the Councilors. His freedom was stripped away from him before he even knew it.

"We can take off now, you know…" he murmured to his friend as he reached out towards the sky. "Fly out of this place, for an hour or two." He would like to do that, more than anything else. But he was afraid that once he flew out of this place, he would never bother to come back. Slowly, he pulled back his hand, and quickly sat up. "It's late, I should go."

Beside him, Darkstar let out a low growl of dismay. It raised its head and gently nipped at the end of Lance's cloak.

"No," Lance sternly said. "Darkstar, let-"

A sudden rustle alerted them both. Lance and Darkstar both looked around, and soon, their gazes landed on a young man, who was standing amidst the blooming flowers not far from them. His gaze was fixed at the bright moon above, and his brilliant blue eyes sparkled with wonder and excitement. His hair was as silver as the moonlight and his skin as fair as snow. For southerners like Lance, his pale beauty was simply exotic.

Lance was tempted to say something to gain his attention, but at that moment, the only thing that was in his mind was how handsome and beautiful that young man was.

As if sensing their gazes, the young man tore his gaze from the moon above and turned to look at them. The surprise in his eyes was genuine, but also brief. "Good evening," he said to Lance with a handsome smile, but then he noticed Darkstar was there, and his eyes quickly widened with amazement again. "Is that… A wyvern?"

It took Lance a moment to realize that Darkstar was still next to him. He glanced at the wyvern, who was eying the young man with neutral eyes. "Yes, Darkstar, I call him." Lance turned to look at the young man again, "Who are you? And what are you doing out here so late?"

The young man immediately replied, "Steven of Rustboro, I came here after my family received an invitation to attend this year's court. I arrived a few hours ago and decided for a small walk before bed."

"It's a bit too late for a walk, isn't it?" Lance asked.

Steven merely shrugged, "I like exploring places, and besides," he turned to look at Darkstar again, "I've always wanted to see a wyvern up close." Hesitantly, he looked at Lance, "Are you… a royal wyvern rider?"

Only then did Lance realize that Steven didn't know that he was the King. He glanced down, and found out that he didn't bother dressing up properly as a king when he left his room. For a moment, he was tempted to tell him the truth, but for some reason, the lie prevailed, "You can say that." That wasn't entirely a le. He was a royal Wyvern Rider before Clair's death. Back then, he had dreamt of attaining the title Lord Commander of Royal Wyvern Rider.

"M-May I touch it?" Steven asked, his voice betraying his excitement.

Frankly, he wasn't the first outsider who came to Blackthorn curious about wyverns and dragons. Lance nodded, "Darkstar is tame, and I do not think he dislikes you." He glanced at his wyvern again, just to make sure. "Just be careful."

Steven nodded, before he approached them as calmly as he could. His gaze was too fixed on Darkstar to notice that Lance was staring at him a bit too intently. Up close, Lance could see his features better, and what he originally thought was not proven false. This young man was indeed handsome and beautiful. His skin looked smoother than anything Lance had ever seen, and his lips were as tempting as the sweetest apple. A cloak was fastened around his shoulder, but his neck was exposed, and it was as pale as it was breath-taking.

"It feels warm," Steven murmured as he placed his hand on Darkstar's snout, jarring Lance from his trance.

"It's…" Lance scrambled to regain his composure, "It's to be expected, Darkstar is a fire-wyvern after all." He scolded himself mentally for looking at Steven in such a lustful manner. It was true that he hadn't sated himself in that way ever since his wife died two years ago, but it was still no excuse to look upon a young lord that way. "Lord Steven, you may not be aware of this, but the lords and ladies appearing for the court are not allowed to leave the West Wing without an escort, especially not in the middle of the night."

"Escort?" For the first time, Steven looked at Lance with his brilliant blue eyes; eyes that reminded Lance of the open wide sky. "Why would I need an escort inside a palace of the strongest kingdom in the five United Realms?"

"You cannot be too sure when it comes to safety," Lance replied. "I will do you a favor and forget about seeing you here, but now, you need to go back to the West Wing. Come, let me escort you." He offered Steven his arm, but the young lord only looked at him for a moment, before he shook his head.

"You are a wyvern rider, correct?" Steven asked. "Then, will you take me out on a ride?"

There was innocence and pleading in his eyes as well as in his voice. He was acting so adorably that any other man would have relented. Next to him, Darkstar was begging along with Steven with its eyes as well, but Lance wasn't going to change his mind. He didn't want to fly. "It is too late for a flight," he replied as he looked away from those two pairs of pleading eyes. "And besides, wyvern-riding is getting riskier these days. It is much better for you to return to your room. Come, Lord Steven, I will escort you." He waited, but Steven said nothing. When he turned around again to look, he was nonetheless shocked to find that Darkstar had let Steven climbed onto its back, and was ready to take off.

"Darkstar, no!" he raised his voice, but the wyvern would not listen.

"So, what do I hold on to?" Steven asked as he settled himself on Darkstar's back.

Darkstar spread its wings and dashed forward to take off. Fearing for Steven's safety more than anything else at that moment, Lance gave chase and jumped on the wyvern's back just in time before the wyvern took off to the sky. He scrambled towards Steven, who seemed to deal with the rough take-off just fine, and settled down behind him. He shouted over the roaring wind, "Darkstar! What do you think you're doing? Get back down, now!"

But Darkstar did not heed his command. Instead, it flapped its wings and shot faster and faster into the sky, until finally, it flew past the tallest point of the palace, and smoothly slowed down.

"Wow," Steven said as he gazed down, "This is amazing."

Lance followed his gaze, and understood what he meant. The view from the sky was always breath-taking. Down below, the lights became nothing more than more white specks. The water in the canal glittered under the moonlight. The wind that caressed his face was icy cold, but for some reason, Lance felt warm inside.

Just then, he became aware that he had wound his left arm around Steven's waist during the rough take-off. Lance could feel warmth from his body as well. When he made a move to pull his arm away, Steven quickly grabbed his wrist and pulled his arm back in place, "Don't. I feel safer like this."

There were many things Lance could have said in return, but all words evaporated when the realization that he was flying struck him.

"The palace," Steven suddenly let out a gasp, "It's glowing!"

Darkstar had been flying in bigger and bigger circles, until at last they were flying over the sky of the whole city. From up there, they could clearly see that the palace was glowing like the stars above. It was a phenomenon that could only be observed if one took to the sky on a wyvern's back at night. Lance remembered the first time he found out that the palace glowed with such an unearthly light; he had been as mesmerized as he was at that very moment.

"The Dragonlord's magic made the castle glow," Lance told Steven, not taking his eyes off the magnificent sight. "I'm not entirely sure how that works either, but some said that dragon magic flowed through the stones that make up the whole palace."

"I've never seen anything like this before," Steven was still awe-struck, but then he looked over his shoulder at Lance and said, with an adorable accusing look, "And you told me that it's too late for a flight."

Lance shook his head and said, "We're not supposed to be doing this."

"You know, I would've taken your words seriously if you weren't smiling like that," Steven said before he turned his gaze back at the scenery stretched out around them.

Only then did Lance realize that, aside from smiling to himself, the weariness which had been weighing on him slowly began to melt. It was as if the wind that blew against them carried off his weariness as well. He straightened his back and gazed at the endless horizon that stretched out before him.

He closed his eyes and soaked himself in the freedom he hadn't felt in a long time.

When they finally landed, the signs of dawn were coming. Darkstar landed on the place where he took off from and crouched low enough to let them get down. Lance hopped down first, before he offered his hand for Steven.

"Thank you," Steven smiled at him as he regained his footing on the solid ground. His face was flushed and his eyes were dreamy with happiness, "Thank you," he said, "For the ride."

"My pleasure," Lance replied, even though he felt that he was the one who was supposed to say 'thank you'. "Next time," he said instead, "Don't do that again. Especially not with any other wyvern you come across. You're lucky that Darkstar is tame."

Steven offered Lance his sweetest smile, "I'll keep that in mind." And then, unexpectedly, he leaned forward and placed a kiss on Lance's lips.

Lance was nonetheless taken aback.

Steven pulled back with a mischievous gleam in his eyes. He placed a finger over his own lips and said, "That one is for your silence. Don't tell anyone about this, promise?"

Unsure of what t say, Lance merely nodded.

"I'll see you around," Steven said, before he turned around and began walking back to his room.

Lance watched him as he disappeared.

Does he really not know that I'm the King?