This was much, much better. Almost as good as a bath back home. If he'd had some soap, maybe a fruit tart, it would have been the best bath of his life. He supposed the dragon might be able to substitute the hair combing, somehow. Not that he meant to ask.

Content, Arthur floated on his back, eyes closed as he enjoyed the warm water. Already, he could feel the dirt and sweat rinsing away. Even his hand felt better to soak, the tightness of the skin easing. The heat was tolerable on the burn, and he could easily ice it once he was finished relaxing. Mountain lakes didn't tend to vanish when one turned away for a moment.

And so he drifted, only moving enough to keep himself afloat, surrounded by his own personal hotspring.

Somewhere nearby, a bird sang. Wind rustled and whispered through the grass; the water rippled and bubbled from the dragon's fiery breath. Arthur let out a soft, contented hum. In all his life, he'd never been anywhere quite so peaceful.

Water splashing made the Prince right himself, his gaze going to the dragon as it pulled its head above the water and sat, muzzle dripping. The water on its scales glistened, lending an even shinier quality to the blue.

Magnificent.

Floating there, Arthur couldn't even begin to feel afraid. The dragon was too…incredible. It was the most breathtaking creature he'd ever seen, and he didn't try to keep from staring. How could something so beautiful possibly exist? Even as he watched, awestruck, the dragon shook its head, flinging water droplets in every direction, then rose and moved forward, slipping into the lake with hardly a ripple, snout first. Beneath the water, its entire body moved like a snake, curving one way then the other, legs held close to decrease their drag, kicking rhythmically as it swam.

Arthur felt himself smiling as he turned, watching the beast glide just beneath the surface. Nothing was quite so graceful.

The dragon circled him, keeping a distance that let Arthur enjoy it without feeling nervous, then surfaced, its head breaking into open air with a puff of smoke and water. With a shake of its head, it scattered droplets over the lake's surface, sending them far enough that Arthur felt a couple land on his face; he laughed, drawing the beast's attention, and offered it a grin.

"Very graceful," he complimented, bowing his head in respect that was just a little playful. The dragon huffed, dipped its snout into the water, and quickly flipped it up. Arthur barely had time to turn and hunch up a shoulder to defend against the oncoming splash. "Hey!"

Rumbling its strange laugh, the dragon lifted its head and blew smoke out its nostrils, looking rather pleased with itself.

Arthur glared and slapped his hand against the surface of the water, sending a feeble splash in the dragon's direction that had absolutely no hope of reaching it. His failure only soured his expression even further, and he turned away with an angry hum. "Irritating creature."

The dragon's retaliating splash was more like a wave, and Arthur struggled to keep his head above water. Sputtering and pushing his sopping hair back out of his eyes, the Prince whirled around just in time to see his adversary slip back under the surface of the water with a flick of its barbed tail.

"Coward!" he shouted after it, though he didn't know if it could hear him. How sensitive was a dragon's hearing? Could it hear underwater? Sound was muffled to a human, but he supposed dragon ears might be built differently.

Turning his back once again, the Prince rolled his eyes and looked down just in time to see the dragon pass below him, its scales shimmering mere inches below his paddling feet. He gasped to be so close, but otherwise made no moves. Mesmerized, he watched the entire length of its serpentine body, far wider than he could stretch his arms, gracefully slip past. It turned and came back, stopping this time a few feet away. Slowly, it rose until just the top half of its head broke the surface, and Arthur watched a pair of translucent eyelids slip sideways and vanish beneath the scaled skin.

"So, that's how you see underwater."

He was going to have to remember that. Of all the legends he'd read, few of them were detailed about dragon anatomy. Second eyelids and tail barbs were new information, and Arthur wanted to be the one to bring it back.

If he made it back.

Arthur shook that thought away as soon as it occurred to him. Of course he was going to make it back. And he would do so with as much information about this dragon as he could possibly gain.

"I think you've had me too long for me to be food," he commented, meeting that blue-eyed gaze. "Surely a beast of your size needs far more to eat than a single human. I'm not even large or particularly tasty looking. Hardly a mouthful."

A rumble sent ripples out over the lake, and Arthur smiled a little.

"Few stories talk about dragons eating people, anyway. It's cows, mostly, pigs, wild boar, deer, wild game. Stolen livestock. What do you eat, way out here? I haven't seen any animals."

Those huge eyes regarded him for a moment before dipping back down under the lake's surface. Arthur watched as the dragon swam away, soon losing sight as the blue of its scales blended in with the water. It was back within moments, and this time lifted its whole head out of the water. Scaly blue lips pulled back in a terrifying grin—between its teeth, Arthur could see the shiny bodies of fish.

"But that can't be all you eat. You're far too large."

The dragon pointed its snout up and swallowed the fish it had caught; Arthur wondered if it ever had to chew, or if it swallowed all its prey whole like a snake. It was certainly large enough for that to be possible. Perhaps with larger animals, like a bull, it would simply rip it in half and swallow the parts?

Thinking about it made him nauseous.

Arthur discarded those thoughts, as well, and refocused on enjoying his bath. The water was starting to cool now that the dragon had stopped heating it, and he wanted to enjoy it as much as he could before the temperature forced him onto dry land.

So, with the dragon nearby, he went back to his lazy floating.

Eventually, and it felt far too soon, the hunger pains in his stomach and the cooling of the water forced the Prince to end his leisurely swim. He rolled and righted himself, treading water as he regained his bearings. To the right, the dragon lay on the shore again, watching him with those huge blue eyes. They looked at each other for a moment, and Arthur dared to wonder if it would speak to him. It clearly understood what he said to it, so he wasn't entirely ready to give up on the idea of actual communication. The dragon, however, seemed to have no interest in the idea, and looked away with a small huff of smoke.

Arthur shook his head and swam towards the shore, angling away from the dragon. He had no intentions of getting burned again, and only stayed close enough to keep within the area of the lake that had been heated. Once he'd reached a place where his feet touched the smoothed stones that made up the lakebed, Arthur gave up swimming and waded instead, stopping when the water only reached his waist. There, he sat, and plucked a stone just a bit smaller than his palm from the shallows. Without soap, he would just have to make do.

The stone, as smooth as it felt in his hand, was far less comfortable against the rest of his skin. Still, Arthur gritted his teeth and rubbed himself all over to remove any dirt that hadn't been taken care of by his soaking, being particularly thorough under his arms and on his feet, where he was sure to smell the worst. It wasn't soap, and it left his skin feeling a bit raw and tender, but he still felt cleaner after it.

Only once he was satisfied that he'd cleaned himself as best he could did Arthur drop the stone back under the water and stand again. He waded out of the lake, shivering at the cool mountain air, and hurried to his clothes. The tunic substituted for a towel, and he wasted no time in using it to dry off so he could dress in his shirt and trousers. It took longer than he would have liked—the water had helped the burn on his hand, but the skin was already beginning to feel tight and painful again now that it was drying out. Getting his belt on was a slow, frustrating experience, and once he managed that, all he could do was give his boots a baleful glare. There was little hope of getting those back on and lacing them properly.

So, forgoing his socks rather than dirty or ruin them, Arthur stuffed them into his boots and left both where the grass gave way to the stony lakeshore, confident he'd be able to find them there. He laid his tunic out on the rocks where the sun could dry it, then straightened and looked towards where the dragon still watched him.

"Hungry?" he asked, as if he had something to offer, then cringed at the thought he might be the beast's next meal. "I hope not." Turning away as if the danger of being eaten would fall away so long as he didn't look at the dragon, Arthur surveyed what he could see of the valley. "I don't suppose you'd tell me where I can find something to eat?"

The sound of stones clattering drew the Prince's attention, and he watched, wary, as the dragon rose to its feet. It, however, was no longer looking at him, its gaze directed towards the nearest wall of the valley, to a steep, boulder strewn hillside dotted with greenery. Arthur glanced between the bushes and the dragon, wondering if it was trying to tell him there were berries there, or if it was simply ignoring him. He was starting to think it enjoyed confusing him.

With a shrug and a sigh, the Prince set off towards the hillside to find out for himself if there was anything edible growing amidst the boulders.

There were, it seemed, berries growing on the valley wall. He could see them before he reached the hillside, the dark clusters obvious against the green of the leaves. The sight was enough to set his stomach to aching with hunger, and he hurried his pace until he came to the rockier soil.

"Ah, shit!" Sharp pebbles dug into the bottoms of his feet and Arthur stumbled back onto softer ground, face tight with pain. The berries beckoned him, still out of reach by several feet of rock that he now definitely didn't like the look of. Thinking of his boots, left back by the lake, Arthur groaned and rubbed his hands over his face. "Perfect. Bloody perfect."

Spreading his fingers and peeking between them, the Prince stood in silence, staring at the hillside. There were plenty of berries, dark and promising to be ripe with juice, and he'd gone far too long without eating. He had to get those berries, one way or another.

Arthur tapped his feet against the dirt and grass, letting his hands drop to his sides. He could go back for his boots, but he still wouldn't be able to lace or tie them properly while his hand was so sensitive. They'd get him over the gravel, though, even if they were loose. And yet, the option of going all the way back for them was not one he liked. Having his feet poked and scraped by the rocks was even less inviting.

Arthur sighed and turned back the way he came, resigned to fetching his boots.

By the time he'd walked back to the lake, slipped his socks and boots on over his bare feet, laced them up as best he could with his uninjured hand, and walked back to the hillside, his stomach felt as though it were collapsing in on itself. Never in his life had he been so hungry.

His gaze locked on the tempting clusters of berries, Arthur crossed the treacherous gravel with crunching footsteps and stepped up onto a low boulder. He climbed, almost too distracted by the berries he was after to pay attention to what he was doing. The pain in his stomach urged him to move faster than he was safe, and he slipped more than once, sending smaller stones clattering down towards the gravel. A particularly bad slip forced him to catch himself with both hands, and he couldn't help but curse at the pain.

"Shit!" The blond staggered and righted himself, bringing his injured hand to his chest protectively. Panting and shaking, he slowly uncurled his fingers to find shallow scrapes on his palm; his other hand was scuffed, the skin hardly damaged from the fall. His burned hand was already starting to bleed, the tiny pinpricks of red rising to fill in the new gaps in the skin. "Brilliant."

Hand to his chest again, Arthur straightened and looked up to see how much farther he had to go to reach the berries. The nearest bush seemed to taunt him from its perch atop a boulder, still out of reach. Arthur threw caution to the wind and took one long, lunging step up, then let himself fall to his knees atop a broad, flat rock. It wobbled slightly under his weight; he held his breath until it settled back into the hillside. As soon as it felt steady, the blond turned his attention to the bush and grabbed at a cluster of berries, pulling them away from the branch. He shoved them into his mouth, not bothering to check for leaves or stems or bugs, and chewed as juice filled his mouth. Another handful followed the first, then another, and another, until he had to pause, his hand stained and full of more berries, and chew what he'd already fit into his mouth. The moment he swallowed, he started on the next handful.

By the time he cleared the first bush of berries, Arthur's stomach stopped hurting. The berries were sweet and full of juice, staining his fingers, palms, lips, and chin. Normally, they would have made a lovely snack. Now, they were the best meal he'd ever had. He almost felt full when he stood again, satisfied that this bush had nothing else to offer him.

Arthur turned and began his descent, taking his time now to avoid falling and injuring himself again. Pitching forward onto the rocks or gravel could end in disaster.

The dragon watched him, front paws crossed, head cocked slightly. He only spared it a glance, too focused on the rocks to look properly. When he reached the bottom and stepped onto the gravel, the dragon rose to its feet and came towards him.

Instinctively, Arthur froze and tensed out of fear. Would it eat him now that he was full of berries?

As he stood there, hardly daring to breathe, he watched the dragon's head snake behind him and curve around, then settle on the gravel. The sharp pebbles had no effect on the beast's scales, and it looked at Arthur with one large blue eye, waiting.

They stared at each other, neither moving, until nearly a full minute had passed.

Huffing, the dragon rolled its eye in what Arthur could only consider impatience, then shifted closer to him; Arthur startled.

"What?" he asked it, his tone sharp out of suspicion.

That great eye rolled towards him, and the dragon tilted its head, exposing the back of its neck near its shoulders to the Prince.

"You've got to be joking."

There was no way. It had picked him up and carried him before with obvious ease, and now it was offering to let him ride it? It couldn't be possible. No dragon would willingly carry a man like a beast of burden.

Well, that wasn't entirely true. He'd read about it in multiple legends and tales, but that had always been if the dragon was tricked somehow, or if the beast was whisking away a maiden or princess to take as a bride.

Arthur's face flushed red and he narrowed his eyes at the dragon. "I'm not a Princess."

It blinked at him.

Huffing over his bruised pride, the Prince rolled his eyes in irritation and stalked off into the grass, pretending not to notice when the dragon rose to its feet and followed him.

First his brothers, and now a dragon! Treating him like a Princess instead of the Prince he was! Bastards, the lot of them. He was a Prince! Fourth son to the King!

"I am not some damsel to be stolen by a beast and kept captive!"

Suddenly, a massive scaled paw slammed to the ground in front of him, barely a foot away, and Arthur squeaked out of fear, freezing.

With a low growl like distant thunder, the dragon circled around in front of the Prince and lowered its head to eye level. Its scaly lips were pulled back in a slight snarl, and Arthur gulped, trembling. Clearly, he'd offended it somehow.

"Ah," he swallowed again, his throat feeling very dry, "my apologies, dragon."

Another growl nearly set the blond to crying. He didn't say anything, merely stood there, too frightened to move, until the dragon nudged him with its snout and knocked him on his ass. It didn't really hurt, so Arthur didn't try to protest, nor did he make any move to stand again. He just sat there, looking up at the beast meekly.

Eventually, he held his hands out, palms up. "I don't know what you want from me."

The dragon huffed a puff of white smoke towards the sky and shook its head, looking to Arthur much like a dog shaking water from its coat, or a horse shaking out its mane. It looked at him again, eyes far too intelligent, and the Prince sighed.

"If you could speak, this would be much easier."

Those scaly lips drew back in a horrifying grin, and Arthur wished the dragon didn't have a sense of humor.

"May I stand?" he asked, cautious, shifting onto his knees. The beast watched him, then laid its head down in the grass, tilting towards him to expose the back of its neck near its shoulders once again.

Arthur was almost afraid to ask. "Do you want me to ride you?"

A rumble sounded in the dragon's chest, not a growl, but not the strange laugh-like sound it had made before. More like an impossibly loud, deep purr; it was so powerful, he could feel it reverberating through the earth. He supposed that was about as close to a "yes" as he was going to get.

Still, he was more than a little hesitant as he rose to his feet and approached the beast. He'd touched it before, had been picked up and carried by those massive clawed hands, had climbed over its forearm to escape while it was sleeping, but this was entirely different. Arthur's hand was visibly shaking as he reached out, touching the warm blue scales. They were bigger than his hand—even if he splayed his fingers as wide as possible, he couldn't reach all the edges at once. Rough and hard, like stone, they easily held against the pressure of his weight as Arthur carefully, so carefully, braced both hands atop the dragon's neck and jumped, hauling himself up to swing a leg over to the other side. It was similar enough to mounting a horse that he managed it with relative ease, though the dragon's neck was much wider than any horse he'd ever ridden, and he didn't dare sit up all the way for fear of losing his balance and falling.

The dragon rumbled again and slowly rose, lifting Arthur higher off the ground than any horse ever could. It seemed impossibly high, yet he was settled just ahead of its shoulders, and its neck and head continued to rise ever higher. Fascinated, the Prince watched the scales shift against each other as it moved, sliding with the flesh and muscle underneath.

When the beast swung its head around to look back at him, Arthur offered a nervous smile. The dragon grinned and turned away, then started off into the grass, the Prince swaying slightly with its movements as it carried him off.