As the dialogue progressed, Vaile found himself wondering a few things. First, of course, was a simple question, that he was continuously needing to ask himself again as it was proven to be false. The second thing he found himself wondering was a bit more easily answered, and it was only popping back into his mind due to the course of the dialogue he was dealing with.
Now, as for that first thing, that question was rather simple. And that question that was continuously proven wrong only to be asked again was, quite plainly, “Is this the limit of this man’s arrogant pride?”
And, as you might have guessed by now, each time Vaile asked himself that question, the old man, a potentially world-ending supersized Dragon of incredible age by the name of ‘Vyviir the Ancient’, only showed ever more excessive, though potentially well-earned, pride in himself above all else. Vaile may not have been the sharpest knife in the sock drawer, but even he could tell that Vyviir was constantly swapping between trying to butter him up and basting about his own power and wealth and whatnot.
It just came off as extremely disingenuous, as if Vyviir, despite more than likely having a vast wealth of experience dealing with people, saw Vaile more as a tool than a person. If that was the case, it would be rather fair to come to such a conclusion, as he had been a tool (in more than one sense of the word) for a few people and in a few situations.
Hell, if Vyviir got his way, Vaile considered it likely that he would remain a tool in perpetuity, and while he did feel like lending a hand to those connected to him positively, he drew the line at being nothing more than a means to an end. He ran away from the crazy rat women for that reason, and he had run away from other places for that reason as well, both in the game that was and in real life.
But while the first question constantly needed to be asked again, the second question that he had been pondering already had its one, definitive answer. The pair of dragons, Vyviir and his Heir, Monarkea, seemed to be under the false impression that Vaile knew nothing of Draconic Courtship practices.
This was, as stated previously, utterly false. He had been forced by the game that was to devote an unwanted period of time specifically to learning that bullshit and its various idiosyncrasies, and even if some of those had changed, they obviously had not changed by much. Between the numerous requests that he give Monarkea what would essentially be a hickey, the occasional promise of power, riches, and more if they were to ‘unite their power’ and the many, many attempts to engage in other physical actions with him, Vaile, though not the smartest or most observant cookie, could read what was going on.
And that was the main body of the second question, which was, “Do they really expect me to fall for these obvious traps?”
And, as it looked to him, they obviously did. Maybe they thought that his numerous contacts with other forces that came from his Tamed Beings and their descendants would grant them control over them should Monarkea be wed to him, or maybe that was purely the plan of the old male dragon.
And as the talking progressed, Vaile found himself believing more and more that his previous worry was indeed the case. If there was one thing that Vyviir clearly was more than anything else, it was that he was both absurdly greedy and absurdly ambitious and that he wanted to fulfill those faults of his with as little effort as possible, all while making it clear who was in charge at all times.
As a result of all of these things, Vaile found Vyviir to be… grating. Monarkea, on the other hand…
Well, he could tell that, unlike her father, Monarkea actually seemed to care about him beyond more than a mere shortcut to power, and that she seemed to not have the best of feelings towards her old man. While it was obvious that Vyviir was using her, Monarkea didn’t seem to mind so long as she could get him in the end.
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Vaile knew enough about the Draconic Courtship bullshit to understand that she actually wanted him, and that she wanted him bad. Despite all the bragging and shows of power that the idiotic and overly complex and stupid rituals that the courtship nonsense had in it, there was one tiny sliver of info that most who had to deal with that obnoxious questline in the game failed to notice.
If a Dragon calls you their ‘Treasure’ then they see you as more than a mere tool to create powerful children or get more wealth. And Monarkea, unlike how her father tried to make her out to be, was using that word repeatedly, despite how her father continuously objected.
It seemed to Vaile that Vyviir wanted his Heir to see Vaile as a mere tool as well, but his daughter looked to be having none of that. Maybe it was honest, or maybe she was saying it just to spite her old man, but given that the word was never, ever used in their overly moronic rituals unless it was true beyond any shadow of a doubt and that it had been used over and over, despite her father’s growing visible annoyance, Vaile was sure that Monarkea was being perfectly honest, which, for a dragon, was almost laughably against everything that they were in the game.
…
Monarkea screamed inside of her own head as her dumbass father went from playing up Lord Vaile’s countless achievements in the Old World to playing up his own achievements in the New World in the same breath. Her father, the damn old lizard, had always gone on and on about showing respect and decorum where it was needed and to who was deserving of it, all while talking about how much he respected Lord Vaile to no end.
Now that the two were face to face for the first time in ages, though, her father had shown his true colors. She could practically hear the cringes and winces from outside as every dragon and dragon-blooded being in the entire Vaile-damned world had to watch and listen as Vyviir prattled endlessly about his own greatness before using only a few sentences here and there to describe Lord Vaile’s own position.
She had known her father was ambitious and avaricious and arrogant to a fault, but not this much… Sure, being those things was par for the course for any being with even a single drop of Draconic blood, but even she wasn’t arrogant and asshole-ish enough to talk to Lord Vaile like this.
Plus, of the dialogue that had taken place since all three of them sat down, more than 80% had been from the old fart, with him repeatedly interrupting herself and even Lord Vaile to talk more. She knew the old bastard was rusty when it came to diplomacy, but holy fuck was this absurd!
Plus, while she did want Lord Vaile all to herself, wanting to relegate the cou8ntless other females loyal to him to being no more than mistresses at best, and while she had tried to court him by her own choice, her father was making this whole thing rather difficult. While her father had not seen through his own hubris and self-obsessed assholery, she at least could tell that Lord Vaile obviously knew of the intricacies of Draconic Courtship.
After all, he had visibly flinched and looked at her with surprise out of the corner of his eye when she had called him her Treasure, and that look only repeated itself every time she used that word again, as well as each time her father tried to gloss over her declaration.
After all, while Lord Vaile would belong to her and herself alone after a successful courtship, he had far more to offer than any Dragon engaged in any normal Union would ever dream of bringing to the table. Plus, he had allies out the wazoo, not to mention direct and indirect ownership of more treasure than even her father had.
And, more than all of that, she found him attractive. Much more so than her toys that thought that they were her boyfriends before she killed them. That Hero, whatever the fuck his name was, was interesting as a plaything, but Lord Vaile was actually hot, and he had demonstrated that he actually gave a damn about those close to him, which most dragons would be unable or even unwilling to even consider.
He was hot, he had more wealth than her father, he had an army at his back, he was interesting, he was powerful, and he cared. If those were not reasons enough to want to be with him, she didn’t know what would be.
Plus, according to those rat bitches, he had a fucking massive shlong, so that would be additional icing on the cake.