Mediaeval Solutions (Human-form Dragon)

[RiversD]

It's amazing what I can get done when I'm meant to be working on something else, isn't it? This is a little piece that's been sitting in my drafts for some time, so I'm actually a little surprised I ever brought it out into the light. Dragon in human form because I'm super original like that.

In terms of setting, with luck the text should stand more or less on its own, but it's essentially a modern-ish AU where magical creatures have been pretty much an everyday thing for centuries. Marion Cox works for the Department of Interspecies Communications (for now, it seems to change its name every few years) in Nottingham, England, and is basically an interspecial defense attorney. The humanus is a spell which can force creatures to take human form. The general public are not usually permitted to cast it, or even to know how.

 

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“Really a dragon?” Marion was intrigued. Dragons, being few in number and better-disposed towards the bargains than many of their magical kin, seldom crossed her path.

Her boss, Arnold Cartwright, took his time

“The genuine article. A real barn-burner, too. Took six warlocks to perform the humanus. And not before two streets had been set alight.”

Marion bit her lip. “Many injuries?”

“A few. Middle of the day, thank God, not many people home. Still, we’re looking at a messy business. Property damage is off the scale, obviously. And the Cross Keys has lost a wall and most of its roof. It’s a designated heritage property, so they’re going to have to rebuild it brick for brick if they can. Like I say, messy.”

Marion nodded, understanding where this was going. “So a guilty plea and prompt payment of damages…”

“Would be much appreciated by the city, yes. Try to show him there’s no sense in dragging it out, will you? He hasn’t got a leg to stand on.”

“What are the exact charges?”

“Attempted robbery and resisting arrest. But that ‘resisting’ part’ll have a truckload of extras tacked on once we know the final cost of those fires.”

“Understood. How soon can I see him?”

“As soon as you’re ready. He’s in-house.”

“Really? Here in the castle?”

“We opened up a cell in the old keep just for him. The walls are between two and four feet thick all around. If he tries to take his natural shape he’ll force himself into a cube.”

“Nasty. Well, in that case I’ll head down as soon as I’ve gone over the particulars.”

“Excellent. I should warn you, it’s pretty mediaeval down there.”

“Why’s that?”

“Been that long since we built a dragon-proof cell. Besides, the stones down there are deadbolted. You can’t get that kind of strength in masonry these days.”

“For good reason.” Marion reminded him. Cartwright waved a dismissive hand.

“Of course, of course. An explanation, not a desire.”

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“You sure you don’t want some muscle in there with you, miss?” asked the door-guard.

“Quite sure, thank you.” Marion answered, in defiance of her own doubts. She had checked four times already to make sure she had fully divested herself of everything that could possibly be interpreted as jewellery, and was fighting the urge to make it a fifth. But extra ‘muscle’ in the room never made these meetings go any smoother.

Of course, there was always the chance that he would try to toast her regardless of how non-threatening she managed to appear to him, but dragons were reputed to have more brain cells than beings who tried that usually did. Besides, she was wearing her work clothes. If he tried it on, the worst she was likely to suffer was disfigurement, and Marion had got her first scar in week one, when a visiting Kappa had decided to show the new girl exactly what he thought of the British legal system. If worst came to the worst, she could handle a few more.

“Just let me in, please.”  The guard shrugged in the manner of one who had done what he could, and put his key to the lock.

“Alright. Call me when you’re ready to leave. If you’re under duress, the code word’s ’unlock’.”

Marion nodded. It was hardly unknown for prisoners to try and manufacture an escape through hostage taking- a greater risk down here than in the modern police compound. But the really bright ones never did, unless they were the type to go for suicide-by-cop. And dragons were supposed to be smart.

The guard pulled the door open just far enough to grant Marion entry, and shut it behind her.

Mediaeval was a good word for it.

The bed was ironwork, but the mattress was a straw pallet which would have suited the fourteenth century just as well as this. Marion couldn’t help but wonder where it had come from. There was no other furniture, just a recess in the wall that presumably concealed whatever concessions had been made to sanitation.

The cell’s occupant had been examining the stonework of the far wall, but turned at the scrape of the door to give his full attention to Marion instead.

Even in this form, he was an impressive sight, dark skinned, pushing seven foot, and built as solidly as if he had been hewn from solid rock. And even in this form, you could see the signs. The broad shoulders and barrel chest that spoke to a lung capacity beyond that of ordinary men. The fingernails, still a little too close to claws. And the eyes.

 It was one of the fundamental laws of magic, present even in the oldest of fairy-tales. There is no disguising your eyes. Faced with that glittering stare, Marion couldn’t help but feel that the invention of sunglasses must have been the greatest boon to predatory shapeshifters in generations.

She pulled herself together.

“Sir? I’m Marion Cox, with the DIC. If you are willing to have me, I’ll be your lawyer until your case is concluded.”

“Am I likely to get a better one?”

“No.” It was an honest answer. Nottingham didn’t have many inter-special lawyers on staff, and there were good reasons why Marion had been Cartwright’s first pick.

“Then you’ll do.”

Marion nodded and moved on. It didn’t do to waste time

She pulled a file from her bag, and opened it.

“According to our information, you attempted to gain entry to Mr Hooper’s back warehouse under the name of Castor Andrews. Is there any other name you would like me to know of at this time?”

The prisoner sniffed.

“Yeah, right.”

It was a more polite answer than most beings would have given her. Marion tried not to appear pleased. “Fair enough. Then you’ll answer to that name at trial.”

“I’m getting one, am I?”

“Yes.” Marion glanced quickly down at her case file, then back to Mr Andrews’s face. “You’ve been judged sufficiently sentient to stand trial for your crimes…”

“My cup runneth over.”

“Though of course, the usual caveats apply.”

A mildly amused huff at that. “Of course.”

“Any supernatural assault on, or the murder by any means of, officials or witnesses will be considered evidence in favour of guilt, any attempt to alter the jury’s state of mind by magical means likewise…”

Marion ran through those parts of the Updike Rulings which could reasonably be applied to dragons. Now and then Castor made a derisive noise, but at least that meant she could report the rulings as read with a clear conscience. She hated it when she couldn’t be certain that her charges had grasped how they stood before the law.

When she was finished, she closed the file and looked directly at Andrews.

“You know I have to recommend you plead guilty.”

Andrews tossed his head irritably. It was a movement that would have been considerably more impressive were he in his natural, reptilian form. With this body’s shorter neck, it just came across as somewhat peevish. Then he sighed, and sat down awkwardly on the lip of the bed.

“Alright, fair play, I’ll admit resisting arrest. That was stupid, going berserk like that. But it’s in my nature, you know? That’s why I stay out in the Wilds. I’m not made for control like that.”

“So what brought you down now? The chance to lift a few sparklers from a jeweller’s shop? Or was that a random urge you felt on the way to something else?”

“I’m no thief!” Castor’s eyes suddenly blazed with real anger, and he sat forward, fists clenching tight on the lip of the bed. “And you should take your continuing existence as proof that I have more self-control than that.”

“I take it as a sign of your intelligence.” Marion retorted, trying not to show surprise at the strength of his reaction. Accidentally provoking the client meant you had misjudged something, that you weren’t working with all the facts. But letting them know it was accidental could be fatal at this early stage. She couldn't afford to backtrack.

“Why don’t you start respecting mine and give me another reason than thievery for you to want in to that warehouse?”

 Andrews gave her a long stare. She returned it, tightening her jaw in an effort not to show fear, or worse, uncertainty.

Then the dragon leant back, rustling the straw mattress, and tapped the iron bedstead.

“You know, I could melt this stuff if I put my mind to it. Could make a right Kobold’s ear of your lock, as well.”

He was testing her, Marion knew. Dragons didn’t give respect easily. In many ways, it was a triumph even to be deemed worthy of the test.

“You’d only trap yourself more securely. We’re not complete idiots.”

Castor nodded slowly, then gestured to Marion herself.

“You’ve got better protection than that, I see. Spell-layered suit, right? You got something to stop me messing up your pretty little face too?”

“Maybe.” Marion shrugged. If he wanted to go down that route… “But I think we can both agree I haven’t got much to lose there. Less than you would, if you tried it.”

He cocked his head at that, puzzlement making a brief appearance on his face. That was the first time he’d looked at her as though she had any depth to her at all, and Marion danced internally to see it. Externally, though, she held his gaze as they returned to their staring match. Perhaps this was a lizard thing, she thought, then pushed the idea aside as inappropriate stereotyping.

“I’m no thief,” Castor repeated, in much more measured tones this time, but with an element of challenge to the statement. Go ahead, lawyer. Call me a liar. Walk away.

“I came to take back what is mine.”

Marion blinked.

Andrews watched her, missing nothing.

“Hoard right?”

The faintest suggestion of a smile tugged at the edge of Castor’s lips. Marion did her best to think very fast.

Hoard right was sacrosanct. It had been the keystone of the Dragons’ demands when they agreed to the bargains. Draconic society, such as it was, had very clear views concerning personal property rights. It was the reason why, despite their continuing reputation as pillagers, you didn’t get many dragons up on thievery charges.

… crap.

She mentally chided herself for not taking that into account earlier. Cartwright had presented her with a stereotype- a dragon caught mid-jewel robbery- and she hadn’t even questioned it. No wonder Andrews had taken the ‘random urge’ comment badly.

Crap.

“Mr Andrews, are you suggesting that your actions were in response to a violation of hoard-right?”

Andrews rubbed lazily at the corner of one eye. A strange affectation, she thought. In their reptilian form almost nothing would go near a dragon’s eye.

“I might be.”

Marion tried to restrain her impatience. Far too many non-humans were given to unhelpful vagueness. She had to remember that humanity had historically done little to prove that its members were worthy of trust. She took a slow breath.

“A violation perpetrated by Philip Hooper?”

That got her nothing but a return to the stare.

“Or by someone with whom he has a business relationship?”

She thought she was getting the stare again, but Andrews broke it off and turned his head away from her to frown at the far wall. It seemed to Marion that, just for a moment, those eyes lost something of their razor-focus. Perhaps that was a sign that he was having doubts? She had had so little practice with drakes of this kind.

“Mr Andrews,” she persisted. “If we can show that Hooper raided a dragon-hoard, we can get you justice. Or mitigating circumstances, at least.” She added, remembering the levelled buildings.

Castor’s eyes snapped back to hers, his mouth twisting into a grimace of contempt. “Pah. Justice? From a human court?”

Marion bristled a bit at that, but remembered how quick she had been to take Cartwright’s account at face value, and checked herself. “You can request a non-human jury, if you think a human one would be prejudiced. Within the city walls you have the right to a jury of your peers.”

Andrews snorted. “In this city? I’ll take my chances with the humans, thanks.”

Marion made a mental note of that one for later. If she wasn’t very much mistaken, something was causing the dragon to take a little less care over his answers than when she had first entered the room. Over his body language too, she thought, as he wrinkled his nose and flicked his head in the same wrong-necked way as he had earlier. If it was her having this impact, she was better than she had thought, but she was more than willing to take advantage of his distraction.

She took a step forward.

“I’m prepared to help you, you know.”

Castor gave her a dirty look.

“And you know there’s no real hope of me getting a hearing.”

Marion shook her head. Had she imagined a slight change to his voice? A slightly nasal tilt to those ‘n’s?

“If a human violates hoard-right, the dragon concerned has the right to pursuit. Your methods might make you unsympathetic, but Cortes vs. Quindala is clear.”

She sighed, and folded her arms over her case file. “Look, if hoard-right really is involved, we might have a chance. But you’d have to give me more than a false name and a bad attitude.”

Andrews shifted uncomfortably on his pallet, and closed his eyes. He scrubbed the ball of his thumb against his nose while Marion waited, knowing that to interrupt would be foolish, even if it did seem that he was deliberately making her wait.

“If you really think I’m worth defending,” he said at last, “you should look in on Mr Hooper for yourself.”

There had been a definite waver to his voice just then. Was he getting emotional? That would be practically unheard of. But what else?

“And what should I do when I go to see him?”

Marion took a certain amount of satisfaction in observing Castor’s face as he registered the word ‘when’. But promises weren’t apple trees, as her father used to say, and the dragon wasn’t prepared to lose the caution with her yet. Trust was earned, and earned hard.

“Just… take a look in his back room, okay? There’s some stuff in there you won’t find on his insurance forms.”

“Such as?”

Silence. The dragon's mouth seemed even more tightly closed than usual, mocking her.

Marion pushed her right arm further up the file, so that the sleeve pulled back a little and exposed the scar tissue just below the wrist. Always give the client a good reason to believe they can't intimidate you. And there are so few reasons you can offer to a dragon.

“That’s really all you can give me?”

“It’s all I’m going…” Castor trailed off, his voice fading shakily into nothingness mid-sentence. He ducked his head with a sharp gasp, and for a long moment both of them held their breath. Then he released his in a shuddering stream that caused Marion genuine concern, especially when he didn’t raise his head again.

“Are you alright?” She went to step closer, but Andrews thrust out a hand to ward her off.

“If I were you, I’d stay back a little weh…w- eh… heh…” he scrubbed a fist against the side of his nose and twisted away from her, breath stuttering in his chest

She took an obedient step back, but kept her eyes on his quivering shoulders, fascinated.

“heh… uh…”

She realised what was about to happen a split second before it did, and immediately felt stupid for not seeing it sooner. Of course he had to sneeze. Very much so, it appeared.

“AISSCHHEW!”

Castor’s head whipped downwards in a motion so abrupt that Marion winced. It wasn’t until he was crashing forwards with a second sneeze, a single, gulping breath all that separated the two, that she noticed the bed jerk beneath him, its metal legs scraping against the stone flags.

He was still struggling against the tide, fingers working the bridge of his nose while his breath stuttered and jumped in his massive chest. Violent though the first two sneezes had been, Marion still wondered why he was fighting it so hard. Surely he was just drawing out his own discomfort?

Abruptly, her questions were answered in full. Castor’s head tipped back with a gulping gasp, and the sneeze tore out of him.

“huhUH-AISSSCHEEW!”

Twin jets of flame roared from his agitated nostrils and scorched the flagstones in a shower of sparks. A couple of stray sparks caught against his overalls and smouldered. He patted them out and set to massaging the rims of his nostrils.

“ow.”

“That hurts?”

“Of course it bloody hurts. Not inside, obviously, be a pretty useless spell otherwise. But these-” he scrubbed peevishly at the dark curve of one nare, “All soft and convincing, right? But catch- hh… catch ‘em with the edge of a flame and it stings like nettle burn.”

“Sounds pretty inconvenient.”

“Isn’t it just.”

Marion watched him rub at his nose, compressing and distending those inconveniently soft nostrils, worrying at the tip in a way that accentuated the pliancy of the whole troublesome appendage, and realised she was starting to feel real embarrassment about the situation. It felt weirdly intimate to be watching this. It felt almost inappropriate for a lawyer-client interaction: though that was absurd. Of all the things a lawyer might witness while private with their client, a sneezing fit was surely on the tamer end of the spectrum.

Still, she felt awkward about it. Casting for a way to break her own internal tension, she asked;

“Something in here irritating you?”

Castor glanced up at her.

“Well, there was this bug came in about five minutes ago, wittering about justice.” He caught her look and shrugged, unrepentant. “Could be. Been years since I was last in this form, don’t remember what sets it off.”

He sniffed deeply, scrunched up his nose as though unsatisfied with its performance, and gave Marion a sideways look.

“So did I hear you say ‘when I visit him’?”

This was firmer ground. Marion tried not to look to relieved. Or, for that matter, to look too enthusiastic at the idea that she might actually have a defensible client this time around. It had been a long time.

“Yes. I’ll check it out. But this had better be worth my while.”

Andrews made a non-committal noise, and passed a knuckle alongside his nose again. “You asked. Thought you were the one that cared about justice?”

Marion let that one hang in the air for a while, then snapped her folder closed with unnecessary ceremony and gave him the bright, false, end-of-session smile.

“Well, for a first interview, I think we’ve made good progress. Thank you, Mr Andrews, I'm sure we'll see each other again.”

She hoped she was right in reading mild amusement into his features as he turned away from her, effecting his own closing performance on the lines of ‘disgruntled prisoner released from his ordeal’.

“Good. Now go away, bug. I’m tired.”

He flung himself onto his back on the cot, throwing out a puff of dust from the mattress, and drew a slow, deep breath. Which caught, tantalisingly, as it neared its apex. Marion paused, her attention drawn to the flinch of his right nostril, the irritated stutter of breath in his throat as he raised his hands to rub futilely at the bridge of his nose.   

Unwilling to put his hands into the line of fire, his ability to dampen the spark of irritation was cruelly limited. Marion watched him wrinkle his nose against the tickle, the hard line of his mouth visibly weakening beneath its onslaught. Standing in line with his feet, she had an unrivalled view as his nostrils twitched and flared, revealing the pale tunnels within. For all that she knew them to be fireproof, there was something terribly vulnerable-seeming about that inner lining. She felt a small pang of sympathy for the beast, at the mercy of this body for the first time in so long, and with no alternative form to flee to.

Common sense bleeding into her fascination, she realised that staring down a drake’s nostrils as he fought a sneeze might not be a position entirely conducive to survival. She skirted along the wall until she was well out of what she judged to be the blast radius.

Not before time, either.

“AISSCHEW!” A spurt of flame stabbed the air, the force of the sneeze jerking Castor off the mattress. He yelped in pain, but it was swallowed by a wrenching inhale, as inexorable as the first.

“AESSCHHEW!” Another sharp burst of flame, and Castor curled forwards again. He twisted, breath audibly hitching as he fought to direct himself away from the bed before- “hh’SCHHIEW!”

He was very nearly successful. The edge of his outburst caught a corner of the mattress, which started to smoulder. Marion hurried forward to pat it out, Castor having… other things on his mind.

“'TSSSCHIEW! Uh! Huh-AH! AHS'SSHIEW!”

Marion could hear the chink of cooling rock as Castor paused, panting for breath. For a brief moment the fit seemed to have abated, then his nostrils flared wide and his mouth pulled into a helpless snarl of anticipation, flashing his impeccable teeth for a second before-

“AHR'SSCHIEW!” The jerk of his head sent the edge of his flame worryingly close to Marion’s shoes, but even as she hurried back out of range, she knew it hadn’t been malicious. The drake genuinely didn’t have control over his physical form right now, and from a glance at his face, that seemed to frighten him more than it did her.

His nose seemed to be satisfied for now, though. He pinched it closed with a hiss of frustration.

“Apep’s teeth. What’s wrong with this thing?”

Marion knocked for the guard to unbar the door for her.

“I think I have some idea. I’ll see what I can do about it. Try not to ignite anything important in the meantime, won’t you?”

Not waiting for a reply, she ducked out of the cell and watched the guard slot the heavy beams into their places again. Not entirely to her surprise, Cartwright was waiting for her in the anteroom beyond the corridor.

“Well, dear? How did you find him?”

“Belligerent enough, but I think we can find some common ground if we search hard for it.” Marion smiled. “Do you imagine we could find him a slightly more modern mattress, though? I rather suspect his human form has hay fever.”

[starpollen]

Ohhhh I LOVE this! Would love to read more. ??

[Garnet]

RiversD! My beautiful golden child. This is lovely. I skimmed it at work on my phone  (such a good employee ) enough to immediately identify it as something so up my alley that I think we're next door neighbors. So! Let's begin. 

First! I love that it's a dragon you chose to tackle. My twelve-year-old heart is not much different from my nearly-thirty year old heart in that I motherfucking love giant, firebreathing lizards, and that love has only taken a weird turn over the years beyond "omg cool!" into "shit this is sexy what's wrong with me." TMI? Anyway. That said, they're so prevalent in pop culture and so forth that I think they're kind of difficult to tackle with all of the aplomb owed to them, depending on the setting. I always trust your finesse in these things, though, so I'm already excited to see where this goes!

Second, I love me a good procedural case. I find them very hard to write, but super fun to read, so this gets all the additional points! I'm already also intrigued by the humanus spell. What few universes I've either created or dabbled in have relied on non-humans willfully assuming a human guise to blend in, so having one forced upon them and all of the stigma that goes with that is very interesting!

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She had checked four times already to make sure she had fully divested herself of everything that could possibly be interpreted as jewellery, and was fighting the urge to make it a fifth.

When interviewing a dragon, this is obviously much more important than any perceived weaponry ahaha. These kind of small details, like the follow-up bit about the Kappa, are the ones that totally enrich the world. And boy am I a sucker for world building.

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Even in this form, he was an impressive sight, dark skinned, pushing seven foot, and built as solidly as if he had been hewn from solid rock. And even in this form, you could see the signs. The broad shoulders and barrel chest that spoke to a lung capacity beyond that of ordinary men. The fingernails, still a little too close to claws. And the eyes.

God damn it, Rivers. Go easy on me... I am weak...

You know what I also love? Snarky grumps and their no-nonsense counterparts. Their whole exchange following so so smart and snappy. I already appreciate Marion's brisk commitment to her work, even in the face of a freaking dragon. She acknowledges all the routes for things to go potentially south in a big hurry, and then soldiers on anyway. What a woman

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Hoard right was sacrosanct. It had been the keystone of the Dragons’ demands when they agreed to the bargains. Draconic society, such as it was, had very clear views concerning personal property rights. It was the reason why, despite their continuing reputation as pillagers, you didn’t get many dragons up on thievery charges.

… crap.

She mentally chided herself for not taking that into account earlier. Cartwright had presented her with a stereotype- a dragon caught mid-jewel robbery- and she hadn’t even questioned it. No wonder Andrews had taken the ‘random urge’ comment badly.

Crap.

I say again, details. This little snippet of history is so brief and yet I honestly don't need a single thing more to color this richly texture fabric you're weaving. I love it!

And then, whoops, I was so delighted by the banter that I actually forgot I was reading a snez!fic for a second and me fuckin' gusta. I love his slow fade, I love all of the gratuitous nostril action, and you get the fuck out of here with your "stay back" phraseology. Oh my god, woman. I'm wrecked.

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Of course he had to sneeze. Very much so, it appeared.

STOP. (But don't. Of course.)

Follow-up horn: I am such a basic bitch for fire sneezing. Or, like, any supernatural oddity tied to sneezing. Magical rifts in reality? Poisonous after-effects? My nasty fantasy ass is game. But fire is an old favorite. It's so flashy and carries that lovely element of danger, in which you are sympathetic to the victim but also not reeeeally wanting to get too close for personal safety reasons. Suffice to say that my little gay monster heart is so pleased that you went this direction with Castor. What a... drake?

So like, you did all of that, but then this:

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“All soft and convincing, right? But catch- hh… catch ‘em with the edge of a flame and it stings like nettle burn.”

Oh man. Add another layer to my sadistic pie, why don't you? How good...

 

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Common sense bleeding into her fascination, she realised that staring down a drake’s nostrils as he fought a sneeze might not be a position entirely conducive to survival. She skirted along the wall until she was well out of what she judged to be the blast radius.

Hhhhh oh my god. I realize that I'm just quoting willy-nilly at this point, but I'm almost alarmed at the precision focus with which you're shattering my horn (in a good way!). 

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“Do you imagine we could find him a slightly more modern mattress, though? I rather suspect his human form has hay fever.”

Help.

In conclusion, great fic BEST fic! I sincerely hope that you continue, this is all just too good to leave as a tantalizing standalone.

Edited January 1, 2017 by Garnet

[KD02]

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 “Do you imagine we could find him a slightly more modern mattress, though? I rather suspect his human form has hay fever.”

Love allergy stories .

This is great! And a really good start, can't wait for more..please continue.

[Werewolf Sniffles]

Oh

My

God!

THIS IS SO GREAT!!!! Your such a talented writer, and your story is more wonderful than words can describe.

ahshjsjajzkesns bejeimebsnnwkzjsn

Thats how I felt when Castor sneezed out flames!! I just love love love this more than you could ever know!

[MaiMai]

Oh man, this is gorgeous.

I love the whole concept of Marion acting as a lawyer for supernatural-related court cases, it's such a creative idea, and such a great basis for the story! It's really intriguing to find out more about her and the context of the business/universe, as well!

And Carson...I'm in love. The concept of a dragon being made human is so cool, and I love your characterisation of him. Also, the allergies part, damn. Him not knowing what could be setting it off because he hadn't been in human form for so long was kind of adorable.  The whole thing with the flames, too... I felt sorry for him on the one hand, but on the other, damn.

Whether you continue this or not, this is so amazing! I would love to say so much more about it, but I'm not even sure where to start. Words fail me in the best way possible.

[queenie]

RiversD, you're the best. 

[LeapYearKisses]

Aaahh, I love this!  I love the allergies, but more than that I love the details you've put in about the world.  The bylaws, the thick walls of the cell, the way the humana spell works and changes the inside but not the outside.  And the little humorous bits about the visiting Kappa and the hay fever... those were lovely!

[starpollen]

Bumping this because it's really just too wonderful and re-reading it has made me verrrry happy.