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Dragon Prince and Dragon Star trilogies

From Spanking Art

“	Rohan felt his throat tighten, his eyes sting. His dragons, more than he had ever seen before in his life, free and proud and alive. His dragons. As they flew from the Desert across the Faolain, the chant began again. But it was not his name that rumbled along the riverbank, growing louder, following the dragons over Roelstra's camp as hundreds of wings cast shadows on the violet tents. Someone knowing the old tongue had renamed Rohan, given him the single powerful word that would be his for the rest of his life. Azhrei. Dragon Prince.	”
	— Dragon Prince by Melaine Rawn, p.495

The Dragon Prince and Dragon Star are two sets of related fantasy trilogies by Melanie Rawn. The story starts with a focus on Prince Rohan of the Desert and his Sunrunner wife, Sioned, but as their son, Pol, is born and grows, the focus changes to him.

1 ISBN
2 Spanking references
3 See also

[edit] ISBN

The following ISBN numbers are for the version that the page numbers for this article came from:

Dragon Prince Trilogy
- Dragon Prince: ISBN 0-283-99949-7
- Star Scroll: ISBN 0-330-31404-1
- Sunrunner's Fire: ISBN 0-330-31953-1
Dragon Star Trilogy
- Stronghold: ISBN 0-88677-482-9
- The Dragon Token: ISBN 0-88677-542-6
- Skybowl: ISBN 0-330-33318-6

[edit] Spanking references

[edit] Dragon Prince

“	Tobin was frankly staring. "You look wonderful!" "Thank you," he said airily. "But Tobin, I'm surprised at you! Your hands aren't red from spanking your two hellions." "Chay did it for me—and they won't be able to sit down for two days. But where's Sioned? I want to thank her."	”
	— Dragon Prince p.170

“	"By the Storm Devil, what am I going to do with you?" Tobin growled, her gown now liberally dusted with feather-snow. Scooping up a twin in either arm, she deposited them in their beds and stood over them with what she hoped was a stern glare. But the absurdity of the attempt when covered in white feathers was compounded by the mischievous grins decorating her offspring's faces. Torbin gave it up as useless and laughed. "You're pests and I don't know what I ever did to merit you," she said, hugging each of them in turn. "I ought to blister your bottoms." "With Sunrunner's Fire, the way Sioned said she would?" Sorin asked pertly. "We didn't believe her, either," Andry put in with a smug smile, bouncing from his bed to his brother's for his share of maternal affection.	”
	— Dragon Prince p.410

“	Tobin snatched her sons into her arms. They were mercifully whole, though Sorin's tunic was ripped and Andry had a long, shallow cut on one arm. She embraced the pair fiercely, then let them go and dealt each s resounding blow on the backside that put tears into their eyes. "How dare you disobey me!" she raved. "Don't you ever do such a thing again! Get out of my sight before I have you horsewhipped!" She pulled them close for another breathless hug, then pushed them toward the keep. "Move!" They did. Tobin straightened up near to fainting with anger and relief...	”
	— Dragon Prince p.473

[edit] Star Scroll

“	Changing his tone, he asked, "How is the old prince these days?" "Hale and hearty or his age, and asks to be remembered to you. As if anyone could ever forget him!" "He does tend to make an impression—especially on your backside when he's caught you doing something you shouldn't." Pol started. "How did you—?" Maarken grinned. "oh, you're not alone, believe me. But it's a relief to know he applies the same remedy to princes as well as lowly lords. How long was it before you could sit down?" "A whole day," Pol admitted sourly. "He must like you, then. It was two days before I recovered."	”
	— Star Scroll p.44

“	"I thought only to follow your son's excellent example, my prince," Chay responded. "And if you'll forgive my humble self and my insignificant son, we'll follow the rest of Pol's example and tend our horses. With your gracious leave, my prince?" "Get out of here, you great idiot," Tobin scolded, swatting him on the seat as she passed on the steps.	”
	— Star Scroll p.64

“	"Don't use that tone of voice to me." he warned. "Why not? Because you're a prince? Well, I'm not just anybody—I'm Lady Sionell of Remagev, and you're nothing but a rude boy!" He drew himself up, goaded beyond control. "You're ruder than I am, if I was rude, which I wasn't!And I happen to be the heir of the High Prince!" Another voice spoke behind him, sharp with disapproval. "You are an insolent child who ought to be spanked for that statement. Apologize at once," Sioned snapped. Pol's mouth set in mutinous lines and shook his head. His mother's green eyes narrowed for a moment, and then she looked at Sionell. "What's this all about?" "Nothing, your grace," the girl whispered. "I'm sorry, my lord prince." Pol blinked, more astounded by this sudden reversal than by her use of his title. But if she could be generous enough not to tell his mother how badly he'd behaved, and apologize into the bargain, he could do no less. "I'm sorry, too—my lady," he managed in a low voice. Sionell's blue eyes rounded with wounder as he gave her the honorific—the first time someone of highborn rank had seriously addressed her by her title. Sioned eyed them both. "I suppose I'm not going to be told exactly why we're in need of all the apologies. Sionell, would you do me a favor, please? Tell Maeta that if Selca's hoof is healed, I'd like to ride her tonight." "Yes, my lady." She ran off. Pol looked up at his mother and tensed for a scold. When it came, it was both less than he deserved and worse than he expected. "A prince who reminds people of his rank isn't much of a prince," she said. And that was all. He gulped, nodded, and followed her silently back into the keep.	”
	— Star Scroll p.135

“	"Well...." He cleared his throat. "Tobin, that boy is too damned perfect." "What boy? Pol? What's wrong with him?" "Just that. Nothing's wrong with him. He adores his mother, worships his father, is reasonably obedient, doesn't pick his nose in public, washes behind his ears, and is entirely too smart for his age." "And this is cause for complaint?" "It's unnatural. No, it is," he insisted when she laughed. "He doesn't get in trouble. Our boys were never so well-behaved." "Or so clean," she added grinning. "I want to know what's wrong with him." "Nothing, according to you." "That's the whole point. Consider Rohan at his age." "My darling brother was perfect, too. Just ask him." "He was the slyest, wickedest, most impossible brat I ever met, He just never got caught at it." "Well, perhaps Pol's like him—too clever to get caught." "I don't think so. Not that he's not clever. I mean. But I don't think he has to use it to keep himself out of mischief. I wish he deserved a few swats now and then. It's good for the character." "Are you aware that this is one of the most ridiculous conversations we've ever had?" She slid into bed beside him. "No, it's not. The prize for that goes to anything we said to each other before the first time I kissed you. Thousands of words, all of them a complete waste of time." "So is this discussion." She made several unsubtle movements designed to distract him. "Stop that." "Two more ridiculous words." She gave him a look of vast patience. "Chay, Pol is a polite, respectful, mannerly, conscientious fourteen-year-old boy." Snuggling back into his embrace, she added, "But don't worry. I'm sure he'll grow out of it soon."	”
	— Star Scroll p.141

“	"I've never heard them scream like that at this time of night! What do you think is going on?" He winced as another high-pitched howl split the air. "Goddess! Listen to that! what's the matter with them?" "I don't know," Rohan replied, glancing around. "Where's Pol? Sioned, do you see him?" "No—and if he's run outside to watch dragons, so help me I'll blister his backside for him! Walvis!" she called out, catching sight of Remagev's lord. "Have you seen Pol?"	”
	— Star Scroll p.172

“	Besides, it suited him to add Maeta to the group. Pol had already shown a talent for taking off on his own. The mare Chay had lent him, a streak of lightning compacted into four legs and a pair of roving eyes, liked nothing better than a wild gallop. Pol defended his escapades with the innocent reminder that he had promised to keep the horse in good trim for sale at the Rialla. Threats did no good; even the private promise of the application of Rohan's palm against his backside did not impress him overmuch. But his first attempt to bolt off after Maeta's arrival earned him an afternoon riding on lead rein behind her horse. Rohan heartily approved of his son's discomfiture—while wondering ruefully if he really was so complete a failure as a disciplinarian.	”
	— Star Scroll p.203

“	After Tobin's breakfast party—which left Sioned satisfied with Chiana's progress in claiming Miyon's attention, if not with her son's little performance—she returned to her pavilion intending to spend a few quiet moments alone in her private quarters, But Andrade and Pandsala had arrived before her. "Please don't start." Sioned warned as she sank into a deep chair. "Rohan didn't sleep very well last night, which means I didn't either. And I'm trying to think up a really good excuse to avoid blistering Pol's behind for him." "Oh, that." Andrade waved her hand away the boy's lapse with one hand. "I was impressed by his control, actually. Sioned, we have things to discuss that can't wait."	”
	— Star Scroll p.397

“	"If he dares get any holes in this, I'll take him over my knee," she said suddenly. Only then did Pol realize how afraid she was.	”
	— Star Scroll p.496

[edit] Sunrunner's Fire

“	Jahnavi appeared then from the side door to the kitchen, trying not to stagger under the weight of a huge white tureen made of Kierstian ceramic. The boy presented the dish for approval, bowed when Riyan nodded permission to serve, and hefted it onto the table. Silver ladle and blue ceramic bowls were waiting; Riyan watched critically as Jahnavi portioned out the soup without spilling a drop. Sionell had returned to her seat next to Alasen, holding her breath as her little brother performed his first duties as Riyan's new squire. She sighed her relief when he finished without incident, bowed, and returned to the kitchen for bread. "Very nice," Riyan commented so Sionell could hear. "A little lacking in polish, but done very smoothly just the same." "Thank you, my lord," the girl replied formally. But then her irrepressible spirits made her grin. "He was so nervous! You were a squire at Swalekeep, and everybody knows what a stickler old Prince Clutha is for decorum!" "A stick across my backside once when I spilled a tray of pastries," Riyan reminisced. "But I doubt any such remedies will be necessary with Jahnavi. I was such a clumsy little mess!" He did not mention that at eleven years old, Jahnavi had not yet entered into the tortures of puberty, with all its insecurities of abruptly long limbs, distressingly large feet, and humiliatingly uncertain voice. It was foolish to punish an adolescent for what he could not help. Riyan was determined to be more understanding than Clutha, who had been of the old school when it came to training his squires...	”
	— Sunrunner's Fire p.40

“	"Perhaps," Sioned conceded. "But what he really wanted, what he's always wanted, is to touch a dragon himself." Rohan rubbed a hand over his face. "If he wasn't already to be punished by a sore brain for the next two days, I'd take him over my knee." "I'd take by the ears and shake some sense into him—if I could reach up that far," Sioned countered.	”
	— Sunrunner's Fire p.72

“	"Sioned, I am a fool." "Granted," she replied serenely. "What have you done this time?" "I said all the wrong things it was possible to say." He flung himself into a chair. "I questioned his judgment, threatened his power, insulted him, hurt him, and came damned close to taking him over my knee." "That about covers the mistakes you could have made with him," she agreed.	”
	— Sunrunner's Fire p.218

[edit] Stronghold

“	She managed to smile, tried to match his confidence—forced though she knew it to be. "I don't give a damn if that idiot son of yours is past forty and taller than I am. When I catch up with him, I'll blister his behind for that trick he played." "My son. eh?" She nodded and turned her head from him to hide sudden tears, knowing that if she said another word, it would come out as a sob. Chadric pulled her tight against him as the ship came around and headed out to sea. It would be a long voyage to Tiglath, and a tense one—for there might still be enemy ships waiting and there could be no news of family and friends with Meath incapacitated by seasickness. Fear and isolation and aloneness lay ahead, and awful uncertainty. "About my son," Chadric said. "Yes?" She was relieved that her voice held reasonably steady. "If you're intent on taking him across your knee—I'll hold your cloak."	”
	— Stronghold p.198

“	Rohan said, "We'll have to send to your father so he knows where Andrev is, and that he's all right." "He'll be furious," Tobren murmured. He'll blister that child's bottom for him, sure enough, Tobin thought. And deservedly. Whatever possessed Andrev to run away from home?	”
	— Stronghold p.297

“	Pol replied levelly, "If Andry won't do this without imposing conditions, then I must. Would you rather have everyone looking to him instead of the High Prince? Would you see him become High Prince and Lord of Goddess Keep both?" As Chay made a soft sound, Feylin glared at Pol. "If I thought it was power and prestige alone you were concerned with, I'd take you over my knee—prince or no prince." she said.	”
	— Stronghold p.301

“	Rohan was also contemplating physical mayhem, though nothing quite so drastic, as he paced furiously up and down the priceless carpets in Stronghold's Summer Room. "I'll take him over my knee, prince or no prince. What does that fool think he's doing?"	”
	— Stronghold p.404

[edit] The Dragon Token

“	He nearly dropped the full wine cup his father had urged into his hands to be presented for Lord Chaynal's refreshment, hoping, of course, that he would be remarked on and favored. The next thing he knew, a huge bay stallion was sidestepping him, snorting annoyance. "Here, now," warned an amused voice above him, "watch what you're about, my lad. I realize the mighty Lord of Radzyn is a man to behold, but have a care to yourself all the same." "Your pardon," Walvis replied, still unable to take his eyes from the splendid Battle Commander. "Might I have a sip of that, by the way? It's been a long, dusty ride, and I could do with something besides water." "I'm sorry, but my father bade me give this to Lord Chaynal himself." He glanced down, angry to see that half the fine Giladan red had sloshed out. "Ah. Well, then. Chay!" he shouted, and the tall man turned in his saddle. "My prince?" "This boy here is waiting to give you a drink! Hurry up before he gets trampled!" "My prince?" Walvis' gaze traveled up the stallion's shoulder to a fine saddle, gloved hands easy on the reins, strong arms in a white silk shirt, and a smiling face crowned only by sunlight shining on blond hair. Goddess help him, he had insulted Prince Rohan. His father would have his hide. But the young heir did not look insulted. As Lord Chaynal made his way to them, Prince Rohan asked, "What's your name? Wait—you wouldn't be Risnaya's boy, would you?" "Yes—Walvis, your grace. I'm sorry, your grace. I didn't—" "—recognize me, or even see me, for that matter, next to the glory of my sister's husband." He was actually grinning. "Don't worry abbout it. Happens all the time." Belatedly, Walvis proffered the cup. "Please, your grace. It's good wine, my father keeps it for special occasions." "No, you brought it for Chay—and it's half empty." The prince winked. "Once you give it to him, can you run get me a full one?" He couldn't help but grin back. "Immediately, your grace!"	”
	— The Dragon Token p.174