My wings, my scales, my true self. It's gone. Berodach felt his inner demons welling up within himself, he felt anger and fear taking him over. For the first time in his life. He lunged.
Despite his pain and his wounds, he lunged out of the bed and at Björn. Terror driving the beast. Capturing the surprised prince by his throat, squeezing his large hands around Björn's neck.
"What have you done to me!"
The monstrous roar that erupted from Berodach's throat was one that could only come from the demon of Helheim. It was a blood curdling scream that even sent chills down Björn's spine. In a split second of realization, Berodach had lost all sense of reason. He had lost all control.
"B-Berodach!" Björn stuttered out, trying to twist the enraged dragon's nails from his neck. "Calm down!"
Berodach's emerald green eyes were wide, like a terrified child who had just witnessed the death of his precious mother. Like a wounded soldier who had just lost his most valued ally. Like a dragon, who had just lost their wings.
"What have you done to me?" Berodach screamed again, his deep voice filled with anger and agony.
Björn tried to pry his hands from his neck and failed, stumbling backwards and tripping over the inconveniently placed table behind him. An unfortunate accident that only caused Berodach to gain the upper hand.
Both the men fell backwards against the hard floor, Björn pinned beneath his larger cousin. He pressed his knees against Berodach's abdomen, pushing upwards to force Berodach off of him. It didn't work. "You're opening your wounds back up Berodach! Stop!"
The ancient dragon's mind had completely and utterly shattered, perhaps for the rest of time at the shock. "What did you do to me?"
"I had to! I had to, to heal you!" Björn gasped, trying once again to push the larger man off of himself, trying to do so without worsening the wounds he'd tirelessly worked on treating.
"Change me back! Change me back now!"
"I can't! You know I can't!"
Berodach snarled something unearthly, dark shadows appeared beneath his glowing emerald eyes. His strong aura radiating a power that was both amazing, and deadly. Terrifying, it made Björn's skin crawl.
He pulled Björn up by his thick neck, his jugular vein bulging at the deprivation of fresh blood, staring deep into his oceanic eyes and glaring. "Change me back, now."
Fiendish. No wonder the rest of his kin truly feared this dragon. He was unlike all the others of their kind, his soul was dark. It was an empty void.
He could kill Björn, without a second's hesitation. Without any remorse. Was this why he was hated so much? By mortals, by dragons, by the Aesir?
"Ber-Berodach, st-op." Despite his efforts to overwhelm Berodach, Björn was not successful. His consciousness was beginning to fade. Would this ancient be the end of him? No, it couldn't all end like this.
"Change me back!" Berodach slammed Björn back down against the floor. The sound of the back of his head colliding with the solid wood echoing throughout the room.
"I ca-cant." Björn gasped, "Yo-u know th-the only way to ch-change bac-k, i-s to love."
Berodach snarled and roared, releasing Björn all at once and slamming his fists down to the floor beside the shocked princes head. The sound of splintering wood cracked in Björn's ears, while shards of wood fluttered into the air. Berodach's fists disappeared into the floor boards, causing Björn's eyes to widen. If, if that had struck him…
"I can't." Berodach sputtered, then began uncontrollably coughing. His entire body shaking as his body fought his own actions and emotions. Thick red blood spilled from past Berodach's lips. His green eyes lost all focus on Björn as they began to roll backwards into his skull.
"I'm…. incapable… of love."
In a fit of overwhelming emotion, Berodach collapsed against Björn's chest. Exerting himself so suddenly, he wore himself completely out. Reopening the wounds Björn had meticulously worked to heal for the last several days. Blood seeped from the wounds, while his unconscious body wheezed out short breaths.
Björn inhaled to catch the breaths he had lost, pushing Berodach off of himself and onto the floor beside him. He sat up, rubbing his sore throat and staring down at the mess of a man he once again had treat. His wounds were severe to begin with, and by acting out his shenanigans: they were almost worse.
"Lovely."