Work Text:
“Oh,” someone says, right next to Laurence’s head, “you are not treasure.”
He opens his eyes to find the source of the voice to be a small dragon, clearly still young, having wormed its way through the singular window in his quarters somehow.
“No,” Laurence answers in his rusty french; he is somewhat bemused at the question. And at the dragon - there is little reason for one aboard this ship, let alone a young dragon, which ought to be in a covert with its captain.
“Then why are you guarded like this? I had hoped for something expensive, such as gold, or at least more meat for me to eat - but you are just another man.”
Laurence, after puzzling through the question, can only sigh. He had given his surrender to spare further unnecessary damage to the ship when it had become clear that the Reliant would be no match for the determined fighting of the Amitié, no matter their own efforts. He’d handed off his weapon to the french captain, as was usual procedure - and had been locked in these quarters immediately after, decidedly not usual procedure. Having given parole, an officer could usually expect a certain set of freedoms and privileges befitting their station, even as a prisoner.
The reason for the oddity, Laurence suspects, stands before him.
“I suppose I am yet another man - but I am English and a prisoner aboard this ship, which is the reason for the guard.”
The dragon sniffed at him. Laurence twitches away; despite its size, the dragon had teeth that were quite sharp.
“You do not look very monstrous,” the dragon concludes, “are you sure you are English? The sailors say that the English are all monsters and bad men, and that is why we must fight them.”
“I would hope not,” Laurence replies, “and I must oppose that description.”
Of course a french dragon would be raised with this sort of propaganda - it seemed only sensible, to ensure a proper fighting spirit. Still, it felt wrong that such a young creature was already taught to be quite so hateful, and dishonourable to discount an entire nation like that, even if they were enemies. Laurence felt the need to expound the notion.
“We are not more monstrous than any other nation; indeed there must be many who say those same words about the French, and yet you would not credit them, knowing the sailors, or especially your captain,” Laurence says. Then, “where is your captain?”
The dragonet squints up at him, curling up near Laurence’s legs.
“But then, what reason is there for fighting, if no one is monstrous at all? And - it is not very nice, to say such untrue things, if they are in fact untrue - why would you do such a thing? And I do not have a captain,” the dragon finishes, quite unbothered.
Laurence stares at the dragon in disbelief, feeling quite strongly the urge to bury his face in his hands.
The dragon was feral . He supposes this ought to be a good thing, as it means the dragon is far less likely to fight against Britain in the future.
And yet for him, it may yet be a disaster.
Laurence had assumed the beast had slipped past the door in some enterprise of curiosity, and that it would be discovered and brought back to its captain with little fuss once a guard came to check on him. This changed matters.
The french captain might well kill him, to see him talk to the dragon, it being an unharnessed beast. Anyone might presuppose that Laurence intended to convince the dragon to take him for a captain somehow and then steal the dragon away in some ill-thought coup.
In fact, it was probably what Laurence ought to do, if only to steal the beast from french hands. Even if they would never make it to England, only into a rather ignoble grave in the ocean - such a theft would at least remove the beast from France and benefit England.
Of course even the attempt at such an enterprise would be entirely dishonourable, seeing how Laurence had given his parole already, even if it weren’t doomed to fail.
Laurence could not fathom what a dragon might want with him as a captain, after rejecting other candidates. Nor had he heard of a dragon picking a captain any later than fresh out of the shell - which this one certainly wasn’t. No, he could not.
“Oh,” the dragon interrupts his thoughts, “are you going to be scared, now, too? I find you humans have some strange notions about dragons without captains. I will not try to eat you - I do not need some man to tell me that.”
Laurence protests the notion. But it is clear the beast must leave - it seems unlikely the French should have lost track of the little dragon entirely and so they will soon look for him.
He relays the first thought to the dragon, that the captain should certainly not like to find Laurence in the dragon's company.
“Kill you?” the dragon echoes, “I am sure he would not, for everyone on board of the ship has been very nice to me so far, even if they are distant.”
“I suppose I cannot force you to leave,” Laurence replies dubiously, even if he despairs internally.
“You do not believe me,” the dragon concludes, “but I see no reason they should catch me here, for I can sneak quite well. But they have been very nice to me. I think-”
There are voices in the corridor outside, still faint but nearing. The dragon raises its head in alarm.
“-they are being especially nice because they want me to choose their Emperor as my captain,” the dragon finishes its sentence.
Then, without further pause, the dragon squeezes through the window in a feline manner that rather belies his size. Not that Laurence would have known how to respond anyhow; he is struck quite speechless.