Perhaps they ought not to have eaten the dragon. There had been people objecting to it at the time. Surely such meat was poisonous. Perhaps it was even an affront, an insult to some intangible order of nature they ought to honour.
But the city was starving, the siege had gone on too long, and the king's troops were still a week's march away. The scorched earth would be fertile again in time, but right now it was barren. Right now there were mouths to feed. So they changed their crossbows for butcher knives and got to work.
None of the royal commanders asked any questions that could not be answered. After all, their aid had come shamefully late. The dragon's horned skull made a noble gift, a fitting tribute from a triumphant city to its humbled king. Who would have thought to question them?
And none of the townsfolk spoke up, when the first golden-eyed babes were born. Children who grew up barefoot and fearless, clambering over the city's patched and rebuilt roofs like they had no notion of falling, with a strange glitter to their skin when the sunlight hit it just so. No one breathed a word about dragons.
Because soon enough there were deft, young hands taking loaves straight out of the oven, heedlessly lifting iron from the forge, plunging into boiling laundry water. And some of them more wondrous still, wild, warm-skinned youths, with inexplicable knowledge and peculiar remedies.
A blessing, their families said proudly. A blessing after so much hardship. Which it was, in its way. This city would never fear dragon fire again.
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reblog to meow at the person you reblogged this from
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you know when you read one of the most well written well characterized fics of a character and you’re like “FUCK YES THIS AUTHOR UNDERSTANDS” and then in the notes or in a comment reply they’re like “I hope this wasn’t too ooc I can’t tell 😭” or “I’m glad this wasn’t super ooc I was rlly nervous!” like girl this may as well have been a transcript directly from that character’s head what are you TALKING about
also this isn’t author hate obv I luv you guys I just think it’s funny how this happens a lot. fic writers youre amazing <33
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me liking posts from my mutuals hyperfixations that i dont actually understand at all
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During Tim's early days, the principal called Bruce once to report that Tim had a lot of bruises.
Bruce, pretty sure he knows where this is going: "Well there's a reasonable explanation for this--"
Tim, kind of sheepish: "It's from the Bo staff."
Bruce, turning fully on the chair to look at him.
Tim, fidgeting a little: "I've been practicing kind of a lot with it recently."
Bruce, suddenly incredibly proud: "Yes," turns back to the suspicious principal. "He insists on getting into these really niche extra curriculars. For college."
Principal, looking between them: "Bo staff? What is that, exactly?"
Tim: "I can show you if you like? Do you mind?"
The principal shrugs and Tim steps out, returning with a broom.
He does a one handed figure eight spin and wipes the Principal's mug right off the desk, causing it to shatter on the floor.
Tim: "Oh shit."
Bruce, speaking over the principal, standing up: "Excellent, just loosen your grip a little more."
Tim, rolling his eyes: "It's a pretty basic move B, and you know it--"
Bruce, excited that Tim's taken an interest: "Just the beginning, tonight we'll practice some real moves, build your repertoire in defense and offense--"
Tim, grinning: "I'd like that, I've also been working on--"
Principal, clearing her throat: "I think I've seen all I need to see."
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