Dragon One-Shots

(Dungeons & Dragons) Friend-napped (Arveiturace X Reader)

Requested by Azureman136. Hope you like it. Thanks again to RoseLupaTW for her help 💖

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"You headin' to or from home?" the captain uttered in a gruff voice. With barely a fresh breath, he lit his pipe and turned to look at me, snowflakes sprinkling onto his beard.

I looked back at him. "Heading home, sir." I looked at the helm of the ship, where his first mate had taken over. Snow drifting around him too, landing on the already damp floorboards.

"You must be a hardy lad then, living in Gundberg."

I nodded; the cold all year round helped me cope with the cold, but made summers unbearable.

"Then hopefully the temperature of the trip won't bother you so much." He puffed on his pipe. "Provided nothing snatches us up."

Sailing from Port Llast to Gundarlun was always a dangerous trip. Between storms, fears of whatever lied below, and the dragons that roamed above, there was plenty to fear while crossing the Trackless Sea. I tucked my staff in close to me and looked at the other travellers. Looking at each of them, I could almost see their stories, the dusty clothes of a minor, the worn hands of a blacksmith, the scarred skin and dented armour of a warrior.

I leaned back. It was going to be a long ferry-ride back home. I'd been studying magic in Faerûn for the past year, and by now, I was eager to see my mother. Throughout the semester, I'd written to her weekly, but it could take weeks or months to get a letter to her. And now I had a special gift, a sending stone to communicate with her as regularly as I could.

The wind was frigid that evening, as the continent of Faerûn became a dark line on the sea behind us. I tucked my cloak around me. It trapped in as much heat as it could, as had been Mother's intention when she'd made it. It'd kept me cosy on many a winter's night in Silverymoon. I glanced between the surrounding faces, all dressed for the Trackless Sea and Gundarlun's weather. But then I saw one, a man old enough to be my father, look up, his senses sharp. I looked in the direction of his gaze and he bolted to his feet. First came the blood-chilling roar, then the heavy flapping of wings and sudden strong wind.

Before I could utter a spell to help, strong talons grabbed me, and the boat no longer supported my weight. I must've dropped my staff, as the only thing I felt was the fast wind in my palm as people screamed and bellowed. My mind was a dumb mess, and I attempted to beat my hands on the claws wrapped around me, each digit as thick as my torso. I could barely breathe with the speed of the beast, the fear of being off the ground, and by its firm hold on my body. I think I passed out, because all I remember when I came to was the beast descending onto another icy, mountainous island than the one I was headed for. I held the hood of my cloak over my head and watched as best as I could as the lights of a castle came into view—or a very broad tower. The falling snow and my numb head made it hard to see and recognise clearly.

I tried to peer up at my captor, but to no avail. Their white body blended in with the sky and snow around. They landed and hobbled into their building, holding me firmly in their talon. I tried to squirm and loosen their grip, my body sore from being squeezed.

A hiss came from the beast. "Enough! I won't hurt you."

In the dark stone lair, I could see the beast. She was an ancient white dragon, hard plates lined her head and back, the pouch of her neck protected with blade-like spikes—she looked invincible.

I squirmed more, her grip tightening. "You are h-hurting me!" I croaked, feeling my head getting light.

"Oh!" she yelped and placed me on a plush bed. "My bad."