Steve should have known better than to get back on the trail while thick clouds gathered in the sky above him, but the next town was just behind that last mountain. He’d thought he’d reach it before the storm could really begin.
The path had been rougher than anticipated, clearly abandoned, almost hidden by overgrown bushed loaded with thorns. Rain began to fall, and Steve was still high on the mountain. Luckily he could see the entrance to a cave not too far ahead, half-concealed by the irregular rocks on the mountain wall.
A little less luckily, it seemed to be already occupied.
Steve stood at the mouth of the cave, being slowly drenched by what felt more like sleet than rain, and cleared his throat. “Um, excuse me?”
After a moment, the dragon curled up in the cave raised its head and blinked its (very big, very blue) eyes at Steve, seemingly appraising him. It was difficult to tell how big it really was, dark feathers melting together with the cave walls in the dim light, but its jaws were big enough to swallow Steve without too much effort. “Yes?” Its – his? – voice rumbled like the echo of a thunder.
People who’d met him usually agreed on the fact that Steve was a reckless fool. Usually, they were right. But if there was something he knew, something he’d learned at his mother’s knee and that hadn’t failed him yet, was that it never hurt to have good manners. “I’m really sorry to bother you.” Steve kept his voice calm, his hands open and relaxed at his sides. He didn’t have to hide his fear, because he wasn’t afraid. “I was travelling to the next town and got stuck out here in the storm,” he explained. “I only ask for shelter from the rain. Would you be so kind as to grant me hospitality?”
The dragon studied him for another long moment, then turned his head and blew a thin tendril of fire, lighting a row of torches secured to the wall that Steve hadn’t noticed until that very moment. Piles of treasure sparkled at the back and along the sides of the cave. The dragon lay on a small hill of gold, black wings – or was it dark blue? Steve couldn’t tell – folded against his back. “Come in, you can stay until it is safe to travel again,” he rumbled. “What’s your name?”
With a relieved sigh, Steve got out of the rain, letting his heavy backpack slide off his shoulders. He instantly felt better, even if he was still cold and completely soaked. “I’m Steve. And thank you, you probably saved me from a bad cold at the very least. How can I call you?”
“You may call me Bucky.”
Steve didn’t comment, because who was he to judge a dragon’s name? Maybe Steve too sounded like a silly name to the dragon. Instead, he smiled. “It’s a pleasure to meet you, Bucky.”
“Get comfortable. Is there anything you need?”
“I just need to warm up-” Steve barely managed to finish that sentence before the dragon was blowing on him. The air became hot for a second and he went still, but it didn’t hurt. He patted his now dry clothes and smiled brightly at the dragon: “Thank you, that was very kind.”
Bucky hummed, lowering his head to be at Steve’s level, and regarded him with a certain curiosity. “People are usually too scared to approach my cave,” he said, matter-of-factly. That was probably the reason the trail had been abandoned: Steve couldn’t imagine that many travelers would want to walk right in front of the entrance of a dragon’s home.
“Well.” He shrugged. “People usually say I’m reckless and a fool.”
“I can’t exactly disagree. You were out in that storm you must’ve known was coming, after all.”
“Let’s just say I’ve had better ideas. But it didn’t turn out too bad, so I regret nothing.”
Bucky huffed what sounded like a laugh and put his head back on his front legs, wriggling around a bit to get more comfortable on the pile of gold and jewels.
Steve sat down in a spot void of treasure, being careful not to touch anything, dragged his pack between his legs and opened it to check if the rain had ruined his things. His clothes were a bit damp, but the important thing was that his sketchbook and pencils were safe. He really didn’t have the money to replace them – and no amount of coin could replace the drawings and the memories that his sketchbook held.
“You smell like royalty,” Bucky said, suddenly, and Steve couldn’t hold back a laugh.
“I’m really not.”
“Are you sure?” The dragon sounded doubtful, like he genuinely believed that Steve was hiding some kind of royal status from him. It was pretty amusing.
“Yeah, Bucky. I’m sure I’m not secretly a prince or a king.”
Bucky hummed again, seemed to think for a moment. “Then you should be.” He got up, so graceful he barely disturbed the countless coins he was lying on, and moved towards the back of the cave as if to look for something. When he turned around there was a crown in his claws. He held it out for Steve: “Here.”
The crown was a circle of spun gold, with small blue gems set in each of its six points. A bigger red gem, cut into the shape of a star, adorned the front.
Steve hesitated, but he felt it wouldn’t be wise to outright refuse a gift from a dragon. Instead, he asked: “Why?”
“Because you’re a good man. I can sense it.” Bucky didn’t seem offended. He sounded very serious, his gaze almost solemn, when he said: “You should be a king. I don’t know much about humans, but I do know that every king has a crown.”
Steve still didn’t take it. “Having a crown won’t automatically make me royalty.” He felt like he should’ve explained that at least.
“Then you will be.” It almost felt like a promise. Bucky offered the crown once more, and this time Steve carefully took it from his claws. “Try it on.”
The crown was lighter than it seemed, and it fit perfectly on Steve’s head. He felt weird, like he didn’t know exactly what was happening, but neither was he uncomfortable or uncertain. He just rolled with it. Raising to his full height Steve met Bucky’s gaze and smiled. “So, how do I look?”
“Pretty.” Bucky’s eyes glinted in the light offered by the torches. “Like royalty.”
Steve blushed, despite himself. “That was just an excuse to see me wearing pretty jewels, was it?”
It should’ve been terrifying, to see a dragon grin, with all those sharp teeth and the darkness of a mouth that could’ve easily taken a bite of him – but for some reason Steve still wasn’t scared. “Maybe.” Bucky leaned forward, the tip of his noise almost touching Steve’s chest. “I mean, it is a pretty sight.”
“I’m flattered.” Steve slowly raised a hand and, when Bucky didn’t move, laid it on the dragon’s cheek. The feathers in that point were fluffier than he expected and extremely soft, similar to the wings of a baby bird. “Are you sure you want to give me this?”
Bucky stayed silent for what felt like an extremely long time for such a simple question, but Steve waited patiently.
And then, Bucky… changed.
Steve’s hand was now touching smooth, warm skin, and a (very human, very handsome) man was suddenly standing in the dragon’s place. He was dressed in fine clothing, velvet and silk and damask, and a crown similar to the one on Steve’s head rested on his dark curls.
“Yes,” the man said, and he had Bucky’s voice except it was coming from a smaller chest. His eyes were exactly the same. “I’m sure.”