Rudra knew he should be ashamed. Or atleast angry.
But Teresa being so angry was kind of....hot.
At some point, he had stopped hearing whatever insults and curses she had been hurling at him and started just staring at her mouth.
Now now, Rudra was no fool.
Did he know it was kind of disgustingly pathetic of Prince of Partha thirsting over a woman who was out for his blood? yes.
But did that means he'd stop? No.
At some point, the black haired man had crawled around Rudra and had come to stand between him and Teresa as if Rudra couldn't throw him against the wall again.
Rudra did his best to ignore him until he leaned close to Teresa and crooned, "He is not worth your anger," he murmured, "Calm down, Teresa."
The Saintess looked at him and back at Rudra, "Percy..," Teresa's voice shook with unexplainable emotions, her eyes softening in a way Rudra had never witnessed before, "You know I can't.....you know that I-"
"It seems. I should have arrived earlier."
Rudra looked up to see a tall figure hovering over the door. His eyes danced with amusement, "So this is the woman you've waged a war for?"
It was Ravaan. The King of Partha. Rudra's father. When his eyes met Rudra's, he didn't smile, but the skins at the corner of his eyes crinkled with pure affection and warmth, "What can I say? The only thing bad about you is your taste in women ."
"Father?" Rudra gaped. He hadn't expected the King himself to show up to escort him to home, "When did you reach Benevia?"
The King of Partha was dressed rather humbly. He wore almost same attire as Nayan- minus the blood- a vision of dark brown leather and thick fabric suitable for Benevia's cold weather. Dragons don't get cold. Dragons don't get hot. But King of Partha was a queer dragon who liked feigning weaknesses as if he was no more than an ordinary man. Rudra called it cowardice. But the King regarded it as strategy.
Ravaan stepped into the room, "The moment I heard you fell in the battlefield, I had to come." He walked around Teresa and the black haired man and came to stand before Rudra. His eyes are alight with fierce pride, "After defeating an entire Nation by yourself," he rumbled, "You are still standing." He extended a hand to pat the side of Rudra's face, "Good. That's how a dragon should be."
"He injured almost fifteen hundred cavalry, two thousand footmen," said the black haired man, "Is that how a dragon should be? A genocidal maniac?"
"Now now," I chided, "I didn't kill anyone, did I? If I wanted I could."
Ravaan looked mildly displeased, "If you could, you should have, Rudra," he scolded him softly, "What did I tell about showing mercy," he cupped Rudra's face, "Because you spared them, they dare to open their mouth to complain."
"How can you say that!" Teresa's voice rose with rightful anger, "All those people ....their lives...how can you not care about them when you are the protector and father or your own realm?"
Ravaan didn't look away from Rudra. But he tilted his head, "Because we are dragons. We are like....," he finally turned his head, his dark eyes fixing upon the Saintess, "....much like the nature itself. The Nature preserves and provides, yes, but it also destroys. Whether we protect, preserve or destroy....we don't need reasons, we don't need to answer anyone."
"Someday you will," prompted the black haired man, "Someday you will feel how it is to be weak and helpless! How to be afraid, angry and frustrated!" He growled, "And that day, I will slay you. Both of you!"
Rudra looks at him and back at his father. Ravaan didn't look angry. He looked mildly amused, "And you are?"
"Percy," the man informed, "Percival Leonhart. And someday I will end the Parthan Royal Family."
For some reason, Ravaan didn't even scoff, didn't jeer, didn't made fun of him.
"Someday I will slay the Dragon."
Ravaan hummed. It almost sounded like an approval, "Then I wish you the best." It was such an odd thing to say that even Tris looked shocked. Her eyes flickered to Rudra, confused warring with the ever-present suspicion. Rudra snorted. He could practically read her mind. The Saintess probably thought it was some sort of.... mind-game Rudra had arranged to confuse and distract her and Benevia.
"Child," Ravaan turns away, completely oblivious or atleast pretending to be oblivious to the confusion he had just caused, "Come. Even for you, my time cannot stop running for too long." And Rudra obeyed.
Once they stepped outside, the cool air hit Rudra's skin making it prickle. He wasn't cold. Just inconvenient. The land of dragons- Partha- was a place of warm weather, sand and sea, humid forests, grasslands- even if there were snowy mountains they were strictly to the far North- a place not visited by Partans for generations. Rumours are those places had been cursed due to the greed of their ancestors who dared to construct weapons beyond the power of that even God Himself.
So technically, Rudra had never been to North. Not atleast in this life- the one he was supposedly living. But the one in which he had died.....
"We are heading home," announced Ravaan, his voice suggesting it wasn't up for negotiation, "The carriage is here. We will reach Partha by tomorrow. You need to heal. And I need my son by the side of my throne."
"But father," Rudra dared, his voice quiet like a scared child, "That man wasn't just bluffing. He can really kill a dragon. He has a weapon for that."
Ravaan didn't stop, he continued walking. So Rudra pressed, "He can really kill me."
"I am older than the entire Nation of Benevia," Ravaan mused, "And you? Hardly twenty? Nineteen? Not even? What's more with spending nineteen more years to make another son, hmm?"
He finally stopped. And finally turned, "Do you think you're the first Rudra I had raised and sent off?" He asked, "Do you even think you'll be the last?"