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“It’s alright, Wednesday”, Morticia said to her daughter as she stroked her braids. “I’m sure the dragon in your teacher’s story was alright. It’s very hard to kill a dragon, after all.”
Children of her age were very sensitive, but also very particular. Blood and death and devastation were all part of Wednesday’s favorite stories, but give her a magnificent beast with terrible teeth and a wingspan to darken the night sky, and she would immediately become attached and refuse to countenance anything bad happening to it, fictional or otherwise. Even as she soothed her daughter, Morticia admired her passion.
“Are you sure?” asked the crying child.
“Of course I’m sure. Dragons are covered in natural armor, and anything that breathes fire has enough adrenaline to keep itself going through the most horrid of circumstances.”
All of this was true as far as Morticia knew, though her knowledge of dragons was limited to bestiaries which were likely quite out of date. She knew better than to console Wednesday with the lie ‘it’s just a story’- no member of her family was going to discount legends, not while she was raising them.
“Your father and I are talking to the school about not having you hear nasty things like that,” she said, but Wednesday shook her head.
“It wasn’t the story. It was the other kids. They just...they just laughed, or they weren’t even paying attention at all. A beautiful, innocent dragon was murdered, and they didn’t even care.”
The thought of hexing Wednesday’s classmates flashed across Morticia’s mind for just a moment, but she knew indulging in petty vengeance wouldn’t help her daughter. The world was full of people like those other children, and she had no intention of keeping Wednesday locked away from them.
“Perhaps they’ll change their minds the first time they meet a real dragon. Or perhaps they won’t. Some people never come to care about wonderful things like monsters and spirits and magic, and that’s their loss. If they want to live in a world without such things…”
She shuddered.
“Well, I wouldn’t wish that fate on anyone. But it won’t be your fate.”
At last Wednesday smiled, and Morticia kissed her on the forehead.
“I’m very proud of you, my darling.”
