Chapter Text
They say the dragon that lives on the highest mountain outside Trost, in the Shinganshina hills, is the last one alive. All the others have died in rival fights, have been killed by terrified humans, or poached for their skin, their bones, their eyes. This dragon is rarely spotted by the citizens in Trost - it usually comes out at night, wreaks havoc, and then disappears in smoke. When everyone wakes up the next morning, half their valuables have been looted and everyone knows that's it's the dragon's fault, but they don't know how.
They've sent two knights in the past three months up already. The king's hesitant to broach the subject, as he doesn't want to admit that he's not really the one with the most power over the city, but also because those two knights were delivered to the palace gates a few days after they'd each been sent out. Ash was the only thing left of them.
Jean's never stopped thinking about that dragon. When he was young, he was jealous, because dragons could beat their wings and glide through the air, and it was something Jean could never do, could never dream of doing, no matter how much he longed for the open air. He's spotted it only a few times in his entire life during the day - usually by the hills, circling endlessly, and it has the power to go anywhere but it doesn't. Maybe it's collecting a hoard. Maybe that's why it steals from so many people. Back when dragons were far more common than now, that's what they used to do; isolate themselves to an area and loot it of whatever they liked the most. This one likes money, gold and riches, things of unquestionable value... A good thing Jean left almost everything when he joined the king's army.
The kingdom, however, is not at war with anyone else right now; he's vaguely aware of two of the neighbouring kingdoms getting into a bit of a rammy because of shipping agreements and ignored treaties, but so far the king has done nothing. He continues to sit at his fancy desk all day, moaning about the dragon, and no matter how often the princess, a clever girl called Christa who sometimes says hello to the knights, tells him that they should probably pay more attention to their neighbours, he just ignores her, says their biggest threat is the big bad dragon.
The dragon, the king says, kills people; the dragon, the princess says, kills those suspected of murder, rape, or violence. The dragon steals money; the dragon takes only from the rich. The dragon is a threat to us all; the dragon, the princess sighs eventually, is only such a big deal because it keeps getting into the castle vaults. Which is a cause for concern, considering the dragon is massive and the vaults can only be accessed by a series of narrow, stone-walled corridors, and no matter how many guards they station there or how many of these corridors they block up, the dragon always gets through.
Only a few nights ago, it stole some sort of precious mirror and a few of the older crowns and tiaras - the late queen's crown, worn only twice, was taken too - as well as various bits of jewelry and gold. The king, of course, was incensed to hear of it; even the princess was shaking in anger when she realised her mother's crown was gone. She was ready to go herself with her 'best friend' and technical bodyguard, Ymir, but of course the king wouldn't hear of it and called up the top ten knights of the army. They've already lost Hannah and Franz, and Jean was lined up with Thomas and Mina and Daz, with the king glaring at them all in turn for a few unsettling minutes, checking with his daughter on each of them, whilst Ymir just stood in the corner and smirked at them all. Why Jean was chosen, he doesn't actually know - he's strong and fast, it's true, and he imagines he's well on his way to becoming a captain soon enough, but he's still a little rough with other knights, prefers to work on his own instead of with his comrade.
On second thoughts, that makes his perfectly suited to this task. It doesn't make him feel any better about going to confront a dragon alone, though.
When he told his mama, she burst into tears; when he told Connie and Sasha, they'd both started cackling; when he told Marco, he just got a firm pat on the back and a, "That's a bit rubbish."
He's dressed in his armour, with the king's insignia engraved on his chest plate; he carries only his sword in its scabbard, his shield on his back, his dagger tucked away by his belt, and a pouch full of vials of potions that are surely too small to do any damage to a dragon. It can fly. It breathes fire. It's huge.
Why did Jean agree to do this again? Do they think they can have a nice chat with this dragon and sign a peace treaty or something? It doesn't even have fingers, it wouldn't be able to hold a quill. What if it breathed fire and turned the treaty to ash. What if they'd have to write it up all over again. That would be very inconvenient.
Jean sighs, and keeps trudging up the hill. He's been walking for hours, now, and he's exhausted. The dragon's up here somewhere, though - apparently it lives in a cave with a door. Jean's not too sure how that works, exactly, considering it's a dragon and these are hills and doors are usually in houses, but Jean's given up trying to make sense of it all. This is a fucking weird dragon. All he needs to do is stab it with the pointy end a few times and hope that works.
And if it doesn't, well... His mama should get his ashes by Thursday, at least.
He keeps climbing, past rock and dust, along dry grass and cracks in the earth; up and up, till he's maybe two thirds up the hills - and there, he sees it, an arched little wooden door beneath a ridge wrapped in rocks, like what was described to him. He takes a second to steel himself, breathing in deeply and squaring his shoulders, before striding over as fast as his gear will let him. He's sweating, and his heart is racing, and oh my fucking god what if I can't kill the dragon-
Plucking his sword from his scabbard, he kicks the door open and storms through, shouting, "I have come to defeat you! Ugly dra-" - he stops short as he comes across a veritable hoard, gold glittering from every corner, but his eyes are stuck on the man laying on silks, a crown on his head - "-gon?"
The man stares back. He's propped up on one arm, wearing nothing but the crown, some more golden jewelery, and a white robe wrapped round his waist. He's bronze-skinned, one eye of topaz and another of sapphire, and he squints as Jean lowers his sword and presses his hand against the back of his head, dragging his eyes away.
Smiling sheepishly and hoping to the gods that he isn't blushing, he asks, "Are, um..." The guy - not a dragon? - keeps staring. "Are there any dragons here? I thought I had the correct place..."
After all, how many arched wooden doors does one expect to find traversing the hills of Shinganshina? Realistically, none - only this one, for the dragon. But that is...not a dragon. That is a human being. A very...handsome, half-naked human being. Who's beginning to smirk, showing his sharp teeth as he looks Jean up and down.
"Depends who's asking..." he drawls, and Jean is at once very concerned and very, uh...interested, to say the least. Alas. What would his mama say if she saw him now?
"Uh, I, uh... The king. The king is...asking."
The man looks round, raising his eyebrows. "I see no king here; just a lovely little knight." The man's eyes bore into Jean's, and he cannot move a single muscle. "I know what happened to your comrades; maybe you shouldn't ask on behalf of the king."
Jean scowls at the mention of his dead friends, hand tightening round his sword. This guy is clearly dangerous - his eyes make him obvious. They know little of the dragon itself, for obvious reasons, but they know what it looks like - it's brown-scaled, with teal skin under it's wings, and mismatched eyes: one topaz, one turquoise. The man - or dragon? - keeps watching, open and unafraid. It's unnerving.
"A-alright then," Jean says, lifting his chin again. "I ask of my own regard."
"Aright then," the man mimicks, grinning. "There is a dragon here. You want to see him?"
"Is it going to kill me?"
"Probably."
"...Can I kill it?"
He laughs. "Definitely not."
Jean sighs. "Who the fuck are you, then?"
"I'm the king." He gestures to the crown, smirking as Jean places a hand on his hip and scowls. "Nah, my name's Eren."
"Eren..." Bizarre, and not someone Jean's ever heard of. "Eren who?"
"Eren."
Jean rolls his eyes. "Fine. What are you doing?"
"I'm just enjoying these riches."
"And do you know how these riches were acquired?"
"I heard a dragon got them."
Jean presses his lips together. "Yes. A dragon got them. So...where is it?"
"Shoudn't you already know that?"
"It's supposed to be here."
"Yeah."
"And it's not."
"Yeah."
"So... I mean, you...are clearly not a dragon."
"I'm not?" Eren raises his eyebrows, and presses his hand against his chest, like he's offended. "What if I am?"
"But you're a human?"
"Am I?"
Jean frowns, eyebrows creasing and eyes going a little wide. "I-I mean...are you? Aren't you?"
The man drags a hand through a heap of gold coins, the sound of them clattering back against each other echoing through the caverns. His gaze has wandered off, and he absent-mindedly rubs at his neck, stretching in a way that flexes his abs and momentarily distracts Jean. Gods, attractive people just need to stop when Jean is working. Especially hot...potentially-dragon people. That's a little weird, even for him.
Eren lets out a sigh. "Well. I'm not a dragon. I'm a...shape-shifter. So I could be a dragon" - he smirks - "if you're not careful."
"Is that a threat?" Jean grips his sword, trying to switch back into some kind of professional mode. He flexes his hand a little, his sword twisting and catching the light, but the...shape-shifter just grins even harder.
"It's just an example."
"So you are the dragon."
"Does it matter?" Eren picks up more coins, letting them glide past his fingers and onto more gold. "I think I shall propose a truce to the king."
And Jean didn't even have to do anything. That's a success if he ever saw one. "What kind?"
"Why don't you run and get your little king and you can find out?" Jean turns, ready to run, when Eren adds, "And if you don't come back, I will personally hunt you down."
Well. He might as well avoid his mama receiving his ashes in an urn if he can. "I promise," he says, and strides as bravely as he can to the door. Once it shuts, he does not hesitate in bolting down the hills as fast as possible, slowing on the steep or rocky bits, glancing behind every now and then to make sure he's not being followed.
A truce... Why would the dragon-shape-shifter-Eren propose this to Jean and none of the other knights? Nothing's changed since the first knight was sent to the dragon's lair, only more has been stolen and two honest men are dead. It's concerning, but at any rate, Jean's probably just lucky to be alive, and to have emerged from this whole scenario with a potential truce of all things... Oh, how he will laugh in Connie and Sasha's faces, those little pricks.
By the time he's back in town, dusk has fallen, so he's able to run through the streets without looking too much like a tit. The guards on patrol all nod at him, eyebrows raised, and by the time he gets to the palace gates, the guards nod and he's able to go right through and request an audience with the king. Technically he's reporting back, so it doesn't take him too long to be invited into the king's study.
Christa's there, smiling at him, and Ymir's eyebrows jump up her forehead when he comes in.
"You have news?!" the king asks, taking in Jean's unruffled appearance with surprise.
"He wants a truce," Jean breathes, grinning. "He called himself a shape-shifter, and he wants you and I to go up tomorrow and talk to him for a truce."
"A truce... A truce! Excellent work, Kirschtein, very impressive," the king rambles. "We'll finally get rid of that blasted demon..."
He nods to himself and starts scribbling stuff down, but Jean's caught on the frown marring the princess' pretty face.
"A truce?" she repeats. "But we already sent two men to speak with him, why wouldn't he offer a truce then? He's showed no signs of stopping, or of remorse, before... Jean, how exactly did you speak with him?"
"He was a human," Jean says, "uh, dark-skinned, like the Free Cities of the south, and he had the same eyes as the dragon - that's how I knew. He didn't make any outward threats, but he told me he could become a dragon..."
"He didn't act strangely? I mean, strange for a shape-shifter, I suppose..."
"Not that I'm aware of."
"Alright then." Christa sighs and presses a palm to her head, clearly frustrated, but Ymir places a hand on her shoulder and she looks up, shrugging. "The Free Cities, you think...? The older areas are said to retain magic, still... I heard the southern-most one is ruled by a magister. You don't think...? But why come here, of all places..."
"I'm aware that this is probably some kind of trap," Jean admits, either for himself or the king he's unsure - as treasonous as the words are, the king disappearing would probably do better for their country. "But it's the first time the dragon's showed any sign of letting up. And I know the nobles are becoming disgruntled. You know, my mother- she does the artisan wood-carving, nobles come in all the time, apparently, complaining... It's better to show some sign of trying to solve this problem, isn't it?"
"Yes, yes, you're right," Christa agrees. "I just- worry. About father." She casts a glance at him - he's not even listening, instead humming and writing and dabbing his pen in ink. "About what would happen to our kingdom if he left. I know he's not..." She lowers her voice and makes a face. "...but he's popular. Am I? It's hard to tell. And we've lost two knights - two good knights - already. I don't wish to lose another."
Jean nods. "Can we just- go with the idea that it's a truce, though?" he tries, scratching the back of his neck.
Ymir snorts. "You know what they say about shape-shifters in old lore, don't you? Cunning as sin, clever and old and fierce," she says, smirking at his wide eyes. "'Just' a truce is impossible, Kirschtein."
"Brilliant. Cheers. I'll keep that in mind when I'm making the three-hour walk back up there tomorrow with His Highness," Jean mutters, narrowing his eyes at Ymir cackles, muffling it behind her hand as Christa smacks her thigh.
"I'm sure it will be alright," Christa says warmly. "Best luck to you both. I'll speak with Father about it later, alright? You'd best check in with your friends - they honestly all think you're dead, by the way - and your mother, too."
"I will," he says. "Goodnight, Princess - thanks for, uh, everything, yeah?"
"Goodnight, Jean." She smiles and lifts a hand, and he nods at her, sticks his tongue out at Ymir, and leaves. He goes to his mother first, of course - she's delighted to see him alive, even more so with the potential truce, and cries and smiles and holds him so tight he can barely breathe. She makes him his favourite dinner and kisses him all over his cheeks before he's allowed to return to the barracks.
Connie, Sasha, Marco and Mina are all gathered on the top beds of two bunks. They're all talking, leaning in, and don't see him until he whacks Connie on the back of his shiny head.
"Ow? What the fu- Jean?! You're alive! Praises to the gods, we thought you were dead as hell!"
Jean grins, shaking his head, and finally taking his armour off by his bed. "Nah, I made it back - talked to the dragon, turns out he's a shape-shifter and wants a truce!"
"No way!" Sasha crows. "How'd you get that, Jean, did you pull him?"
Mina laughs. "Yeah, Jean, did you use your overwhelming powers of sexual attraction to win him over?"
Jean rolls his eyes. "He spends most of his time as a dragon, why would he ever care?"
"He'd sure be a hot lover!" Connie quips, and everyone else laughs.
"God, you're all fucking tossers," Jean grumbles, letting his armour clatter to the ground before climbing up to join his friends.
"Are you gonna get something for engineering this truce, then?" Marco asks, nudging his arm against Jean's.
Jean shrugs. "Dunno. I have to go back up with the king tomorrow, actually - the shape-shifter told me to come back or, uh, he'd hunt me down..."
Mina frowns. "That's a bit worrying."
"I'm trying to be optimistic?"
Sasha pats his knee. "Keep trying, love," she says.
"God, I hate you all..." They shake their heads and tell him he's wrong and he spends a good hour with them, laughing and joking around, before they head to bed and sleep til the alarms go off.
--
Climbing up the hill on his own was hard - climbing up with the king turns out to be that much harder. The carriage only takes them so far, and no matter how many attendants he brings with him, the king has to climb up himself. He used to be a fit lad in his days, apparently, but time's been getting on and it has not been kind, so Jean has to go slow and keep stopping whilst the attendants make small talk in the background.
It's hard, but they make it through eventually. Jean decides the stupid fucking wooden door must be enchanted or something, because the kick he gave it yesterday was strong enough to break any other door, but this one looks brand new. Not even a little crack.
The potential problems caused by an enchanted door is really something Jean doesn't want to think about, so he just stands back as an attendant knocks on the door and waits.
"Who's there?"
Eyebrows start rising and the king gapes - maybe they weren't expecting someone who sounded so young? At least; younger than them.
"The King of Stohess, his advisors, and Ser Kirschtein!" an attendant yells, fists clenched tight.
"...Come on in."
The attendant holds the door open, and Jean bows his head and allows the king forward first, then follows, and then the advisors come in.
Eren's wearing what he did yesterday, and is again decorated in all sorts of golden, red- and blue-jeweled pieces, with another crown on his head - this one is thicker, taller, with black stones wrapping round the bottom rim.
The king's eyes narrow when he sees it, and he stands before Eren, who's this time lounging in some decadent armchair Jean had ignored before.
"You proposed a truce," the king says. "You are the shape-shifter, I take it?"
Jean nods as Eren does, keeping his eyes fixed on the shape-shifter for any untoward actions.
"Yeah," Eren says eventually, looking sharper than yesterday. "That's me. The dragon." He rolls his eyes.
"Ah, excellent..." The king's in full formal regalia, of course - he tugs at his collar, frowning, but offers a hand out for a document that an advisor passes over quickly. He looks over it, tsking, and Eren meets Jean's eyes with a smirk. Jean narrows his eyes for a second as Eren raises his eyebrows minutely, tilting his head, then Jean shrugs and glances back to the king. He looks back at Eren, who's this time concealing a smirk, and has to bite back a smile of his own. Damn, their king is nice and keeps the peace well enough, but...he's just a bit embarrassing, isn't he?
There's a bit of grunting and kicking heels in the dirt for a while, and Jean notices an attendant is watching him so he tears his eyes from Eren and stand upright, fixing his eyes forward like a good little knight. The king nods to himself a few times, then says, "What conditions would you like to lay down?"
Eren grins. "It's all sorted," he says. "I won't go about as a scary dragon and maybe steal things from assholes if - and only if - I get to keep this knight. Oh - and you take his sword away."
Jean feels like his heart has dropped about six feet under. He gapes, eyes going wide, feeling some weird kind of betrayal at the shifter's words - ugh, Ymir was right, this guy is clever, or maybe just determined, and now Jean's probably never going to see anyone else again. The king has no reason to refuse this offer - he loses a knight, but so what? The knight's still alive, and the dragon won't hurt anyone. He has nothing to lose.
But Jean has everything to lose - his mother, his career, his friends - only to be confined in these gold-filled caverns with an enchanted door and a fucking dragon?
Oh, goodness, he's feeling a little faint.
What bullshit, he thinks. Of course this had to happen. Jean just couldn't be super brilliant knight who went to see the dragon and not only lived, but returned with a truce - no, the conditions of the truce have to state that he is the fucking collateral. Brilliant. Brilliant.
The king's making consulting looks at everyone, and some of the attendants are staring at Jean, and he hisses, "Are you serious?" to this shitlord of a shifter.
"Serious as sin," Eren says. "I like you."
"I hate you."
No reaction, just a shrug. "Your problem, not mine. You should get over it, though, considering you're gonna be spending the rest of your life with me."
Jean shakes his head, wanting to back away but not wanting to seem weak, or scared. "Don't. Don't you fucking dare. I have family, friends, a job - you can't, you can't just-" He widens his eyes at the king, speechless.
The king's not looking at him, though. "You swear to not attack, loot, or otherwise threaten not only the capitol, but the entirety of my kingdom?" he asks. Eren nods.
"Sure thing."
"You will never again transform into a dragon?"
"If you must."
"You will not harm or kill your...prisoner for the duration of his...stay?" Doesn't even look Jean in the eyes. Christ, if Jean could, he would go back to Christa immediately and insist that she seize the throne. She's far better at all this diplomacy business that her father is. And as far as Jean knows, she actually likes him, and would be willing to defend him - her father, clearly, will do anything for peace. Including trading Jean's life.
Okay, yeah, he understands - one life against many more isn't that big a deal, one life in exchange for peace between the nobles is desirable, one life to keep the vaults safe is probably seen as a good bargain.
Gods, who will tell his mother? He hopes they ask Marco to do it. Marco's tall and broad, good for a nice, comforting hug - and his mother will need plenty of those.
Eren's staring at him, and he glares fiercely back.
"I swear," Eren says, and Jean frowns but says nothing.
"In that case..." The king turns to Jean. "I'm sorry for this. I'll send your wages to your mother. I'll give your sword to your friend Bodt. Is there...anything else?"
Jean sighs, pinching the bridge of his nose as he withdraws his sword from his scabbard and hands it over. He doesn't even have his dagger, dammit, he thought this was a diplomacy missions. This is bullshit. "Just...tell the princess to visit, if she can. Can anyone visit?" he shoots at Eren without looking at him.
"The princess can visit," Eren affirms, "but no one else."
"Not even my mother?"
"Not even your mother."
He shakes his head. "I can't believe..."
"I'm sorry," the king repeats. "I'm sure I can ask Christa to bring up extra clothes or perhaps a bedroll if you need anything. Do you?"
"Extra clothes would be nice," Jean grumbles. "And a bedroll, and a fucking knife to stab myself with..."
"I'll see what she says," the king replies. Grasping Jean's shoulder, he says, "You're a braver man than I, Kirschtein."
They write down the terms of the truce, get them signed by both parties and with another nod and guilty glance, the king and his attendants are gone. Trapping Jean in this awful cavern of riches with a shapeshifting freak.
Jean finds a nice indent in the gold and collapses on to it, crossing his legs and holding his head in his hands.
He's lucky that Eren leaves him alone. He can think about this mess, think of a way to escape it, if there is a way to escape it - if not, a way to punish this demon, as much as he can, for doing this to him, for taking him from everything he knows...
He doubles over, rests his forehead on a shin, and shuts his eyes. For the time being, at least, he can pretend it's unreal - if he closes his eyes and thinks hard enough, he's back in the barracks, exhausted after a long day's training, and Eren isn't here at all. For now - sooner or later, he'll talk to Eren, the shape-shifter, and confront the fact that he's been trapped for life in this dungeon. Gods, he'll probably end up going mad... This shifter is going to drive him mad.
This shifter must have wandered over, because there's a warm touch on Jean's shoulder and Eren says, "Look, I know this isn't-"
"Shut up."
"Just let me explain-"
"Shut up," Jean grinds out, "and leave me alone."
And Eren does. It doesn't help much. In fact, it doesn't help at all.
Eren leaves him alone for hours. The flames in the caverns never go out, so Jean no longer knows if it's night or day - evening, he imagines, because they'd stopped for lunch on the way up to the dragon's lair - and he ends up staring at these flames, for hours and hours and hours, wondering if he'd be able to burn the door with them. Probably not. It's probably impossible for Jean to leave of his own will. Impossible to leave, for the rest of his life...
How will he stand it?