Chapter Text
Once upon a time there was a family of dragons that lived high up in the sky. It was a wonderful place with waterfalls and clouds and this delicious little drink called Emperor’s Smile, which I can tell you more about when you’re older, but not right now.
One of these dragons, the youngest of the dragon princes, lived here. His name was Lan Wangji, and he was a very handsome dragon. The best looking dragon, if I dare say so myself, even though they all do look very alike, with their blue-and-white scales, their jade-colored claws, and golden eyes. This particular dragon, though, had especially pretty eyes, even though this particular dragon really liked to glare. He also liked following the rules, and he liked being alone.
There were a lot of rules in the Cloud Recesses. (That’s the place, by the way, where this dragon lived.) Actually, there were about a thousand rules written on a wall somewhere saying no this and no that. No running around and screaming. No sneaking in or trespassing. No fighting, no arguing, and no ugly disputes of any kind. The dragons were a very prideful and proper sort—there was nothing worth fighting over that couldn’t be settled over a nice bland cup of tea and a lengthy civilized debate.
So! This dragon, Lan Wangji, liked to swim around in freezing—and I mean freezing—cold pools of water. Seriously, ice cold. Terribly cold. Cold enough to turn your paw into an icicle if you just dipped it in for a test. Cold enough to freeze your whiskers off if you dared to poke your nose in for a drink. Definitely cold enough to give you a brain freeze as soon as the water went into your mouth.
Dragons run very warm. It’s in their nature to like extreme temperatures. To them, cold places like the bottom of the ocean or the frozen pools at the top of a mountain are perfect places to chill out and relax. It lowers their body temperatures down and allows them to semi-hibernate.
It is also, coincidentally, very good for concentrating your qi in the center of your body. And since dragons have a lot of body (and a lot of qi), this is a pretty effective way for them to cultivate.
That was what this young dragon prince was doing, and had been doing nearly every day since he had developed his golden core.
That is, until one day, while swimming in his freezing cold pool, he came across a drowning fox.
Who is this drowning fox, you ask? Why, it’s me! Yours truly, Wei Wuxian, huli jing, rule breaker, trespasser, troublemaker extraordinaire! And the best thing to ever happen to this young dragon's life!
The trespasser part would get me into trouble later on. Remember that rule? No? Well, I didn’t either, because back then, I hadn’t even read the rules on the Wall of A Thousand Stupid Rules yet.
And, more importantly, I was dying.
You see, a drowning huli jing is a really sad and pathetic sight. We are the guardians of the wild, protectors of the forests, the mountains, and hills. We have one foot in nature and one foot in the spirit realm. We are some of the fastest creatures on earth, and one of the hardest spirits to catch.
And we have absolutely no business going near any body of water.
So, in order for a huli jing to have ended up in such a state, they must have wandered by a cold pond by a waterfall and thought, huh, I would very much like a drink, dipped their paw in, yelped in pain, pressed on stubbornly, dipped their nose in, frozen their whiskers, finally managed to drink some water, and then, in a state of confusion, lost their balance.
Maybe not exactly in that order, perhaps, but close enough.
This huli jing was actually a pretty good swimmer, I’ll have you know. But all the waters he was used to were shallow and warm, even if they were a bit muddy. Water was supposed to be nice. Water was supposed to be fun.
Not this—this cold, cold, COLD death trap, where the water was so clean that a dead huli jing would probably just become a frozen icicle at the bottom of the pond and never see the light of day again.
I don’t remember the next part too clearly, but since I am smart and have all the deduction skills of a thousand-year-old immortal, I can probably work it out myself.
The young dragon prince, interrupted during his daily ritual, had caught sight of the drowning huli jing. Now, since this dragon was actually a very, very, very good person, he did not think, “Oh, wonderful! A new ice sculpture to add to my collection at the bottom of the pond!” Instead, he thought, “This is the most beautiful creature I have ever laid eyes on. I must save him!”
Okay, well, maybe the beautiful part came later. But we’ll get to that, I promise!
So, the dragon picked up the half-ice-popsicled huli jing gently in between his jaws, lifted him out of the water, and deposited him on the stone ledge.
The huli jing, at this point, was probably in a truly miserable state, with fur sticking up in all directions in some places, and plastered down to the skin in others. If you have never seen a wet fox, then trust me, it’s not very majestic looking. Even if you have nine tails, if they’re not puffed up, you really do lose the impressive effect.
(In contrast, dragons? Ugh! Unfairly majestic. With all the dirt washed off of their scales, and water streaming down their—OW! Alright, alright, Lan Wangji! Okay! I’ll continue the story…)
This is where the young dragon encountered his first dilemma. You see, in the animal kingdom, the proper way to rouse a bedraggled half-drowned rat-looking thing would be to shake it in between your jaws until all the water shook loose, and then to groom its fur in the opposite direction, and then toss it somewhere warm until it woke up or it died.
But Lan Wangji, ah Lan Wangji. As a dragon raised among the stuffiest and most ceremonial sorts, he could hardly conceive of shaking someone else around in his jaws, let alone grooming them. Not when they hadn’t even introduced themselves properly yet! And even then, that was the sort of behavior he had been told to reserve only for his fated one.
So, unable to think of anything else, the dragon opened his jaws and began to charge up a fireball in his mouth.
Every dragon can do this, just so you know. They all have an innate fire element in the core of their body, and can channel it along with their qi to spit out devastating fire attacks. By the time of this story, though, dragons hadn’t needed to go to war for several centuries. So the art was passed down, but not really honed that much.
I will say that it takes an incredible amount of skill to charge up a fireball in your mouth and then just hold it there. It’s a little bit like starting to sneeze and then just holding it back. Actually, knowing Lan Wangji, I shouldn’t actually be surprised by this.
But! Within a few moments, the air all around the huli jing warmed up just like it was next to a crackling fire.
A fire that was located in the back of a dragon’s throat. A fire that was part of a very considerate effort to make the huli jing as warm as possible. Which required the dragon to bring the fire as close to him as possible. Which required the dragon to place his open mouth and sharp teeth right next to the huli jing.
Which is, of course, when the fox woke up.
And that, my dear kits, is how I met your father.