Chapter Text
Dragons are fearsome creatures. They are massive reptilian beasts with hoards of gold and jewels that live high up in the mountains, in cave systems so elaborate any but the occupants would get lost. These winged terrors have a reputation for being proud and quick to anger. They pillage kingdoms, kidnap princesses, and massacre entire villages with their fiery breaths. At least, that’s what we’re told. That’s the story, right?
Well, I’m here to tell you that this is wrong. The last part about the kidnapping and massacring, at least. There are many harmful stereotypes about the draconic races and honestly they need to be dismantled. The dragon-hunting problem is getting out of hand.
My name is Drethmyr, I’m a dragon. I live alone in a simple little cave in the mountains. Yes, yes, I'm aware that SOME of the stereotypes are true, or rather, founded in fact. I am indeed a winged reptilian creature of an impressive size with a more impressive hoard of gold, silver, and precious stones. My hoard is my very being, my life's work. Most of it I bought, some were gifts, and I will admit a couple of my older pieces are stolen. But no one has come to collect them so they must be in a more loving household now. And yes, I can breathe fire. Not all of us can though! Some breathe water, poison, electricity. It's all very fascinating. In fact, you can tell what a dragon's breath is based off of its scales! Those that breathe fire are warmer colors and rather sleek, shiny even. I'm red and gold, personally. Water-breathers tend to be blue or green and have fins. The poisonous dragons don't breathe poison, I apologize for the misnomer in the beginning, they have it in their fangs and claws. They tend to be more earth-toned and wingless. Dragons of a more electric persuasion are various shades of blue, gray/silver, and white. Their scales are harder than others but they don't tend to have as sharp of teeth or claws as the rest of us. Some dragons don't breathe anything in particular, they are called Wind Dragons. The are feathered and can be any color that appears in the sky. It's rumored that their feathers actually change depending on what the sky looks like but they tend to live alone so no one in my circle knows because no one in my circle has met one!
~
The dragon's tail lashed as the noise outside continued. It sounded like someone was having some sort of party. There was an extraordinary amount of laughter going on. He curled his golden claws in and out, trying to find something else to focus on so he could get back to defending draconic lives, but the noise wouldn't stop. His temper flared with his nostrils and his bright amber eyes flashed with anger. He shook himself and decided the only way to get back to work was to get whoever to stop that fucking noise. It was disgusting. He stood up and stalked out of his study, through the hallway, past three bathrooms, crossed through a closet to go back into a bathroom, through yet another hallway, into the living room, and eventually, out of his cave. It was an incredibly complicated system.
He stood proudly on the stoop of his dwelling with his hands on his hips and stared at the thing making as much noise as it was. It was just one little unicorn, small and pale tan with a forest green mane and thick lashes. It wore deep, navy blue pants and a billowing white shirt. Its tail was long and slender with a tuft of green hair at the end and its horn curved upwards towards its large ears. Proportionally, it had an extremely long horn. It must've been big for its species. The unicorn laughed and frolicked and carried on, either unaware or uncaring of Drethmyr's presence loaming over it like a dark cloud on the horizon of a sunny day. He huffed loudly, smoke billowing out of his nostrils. The unicorn froze and turned toward him.
"Oh," it sneered, tossing its head back to look Drethmyr in the eye. Its eyes were a very striking sky blue, they clashed against Drethmyr's amber fire. "What do you want, dragon?" it said this last word like it was the world's worst insult.
"I am Drethmyr the Destroyer," he rumbled, puffing himself up to be much bigger than he was, despite lying about his title. "I live in that cave behind me and I would like quiet while I write."
"Okay, Drethmyr," could this unicorn put any more venom into the dragon's name? "I live in this tree behind me and I would like to frolic while the sun is high and warm."
"Listen to me, horse, I will burn you. Be quieter." Smoke was pouring from out of Drethmyr's nostrils as his throat glowed. He was rearing up to make good on his threat.
"Do you know who I am? I am a unicorn and my name is Fynrul. THE Fynrul, prince of the meadows," he was prissy as anything, glaring up at Drethmyr like he was scum in Fynrul's horseshoes.
"Well, I'm sorry, Your Highness," Drethmyr mock-bowed. "But I was here first and you WILL shut up."
Fynrul stepped forward, challenging Drethmyr. "And I suppose you think you'll make me?"
Drethmyr lowered his head to meet Fynrul. He blew smoke in the unicorn's face, but he didn't cough. "I will."