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Works I will definitely reread, Good Readings (ymmv), S.T.I.L.L., Leymonaide fic recs, Lizzi's Library [Batfam Section], Qqqqqq115, i am creation, BATFAM FICS THAT GO HARD!!! (As a Tim Drake Enjoyer)
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2017-11-02
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2017-11-02
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Tales Of A Tiny Drake

Summary:

"Miss, that's a lizard."

The tiny reptile hissed and puffed up his scales, getting marginally bigger.

"I'd watch my mouth around him, sir." The blond merchant said. "He's a Drake, not a lizard. He's a legit Dragon, even if he doesn't have wings, he could singe your eyebrows if you insult him."

Notes:

The inspiration for this work came from this tumblr post; I made the mistake of chatting my ideas out to chibi_nightowl, and she prodded me until I wrote it, she also betaed the story, so you can all thank her

Another idea in there comes from this post

Chapter 1: Journeyman Jason and Tiny Tim the Drake.

Chapter Text

 

Jason had been pretty surprised when the merchant had handed him his change, as there were three copper coins and a teeny tiny red lizard with a silver coin in it's mouth.

 

"Miss, that's a lizard."

 

The tiny reptile hissed and puffed up his scales, getting marginally bigger.

 

"I'd watch my mouth around him, sir." The blond merchant said. "He's a Drake, not a lizard. He's a legit Dragon, even if he doesn't have wings, he could singe your eyebrows if you insult him."

 

"And why are you giving me a Drake?" Jason quizzed, still staring at his 'change'.

 

"Oh, you're from up North aren't you?” He nodded, surprised by the question. But the Merchant lady continued unbothered. “No wonder you never saw one, then. Dragons don't like it there, too cold. It's the custom, sir, when a Dragon claims one of your coins, you let them, they're good for luck. If you need to use the coin in a bargain, you give both the coin and the Dragon.”

 

Jason nodded again, though he still wasn’t sure about it, shouldn’t a coin and Dragon together be worth more than just the coin? Maybe not for people who hated animals...

 

“They're protective of their hoard,” the woman continued explaining; “they won't stand to be separated from it. Tim won't inconvenience you though, he's quiet and well-behaved, and since he's attached to a silver coin, you won't have trouble spending him again."

 

"If he's so great, why are you giving him to me?" Jason tentatively reached out to put his open palm next to the merchant's, and the red Drake huffed and grumbled, but hopped in his hand nonetheless.

 

"I'm low on silver pieces," the blonde merchant shrugged. "Plus I'll have to go North soon, Dragons are cold blooded, so I really can't inflict that kind of cold to the little fella."

 

There still wasn't anyone in line behind Jason, so he didn’t feel bad keeping the merchant occupied. “So, huh, do I have to feed Tim?”

 

She shrugged. “It’s easier to. He can hunt for himself, but he’ll either have to trust you not to leave without him and keep his coin, or he’ll go hunt with the coin. He’s got a good ethic, so he’ll come back to you, but he could get hurt or lost.”

 

In Jason’s palm, Tim braced onto his back legs and tail; dropped his coin in his front legs, and thrilled angrily at the merchant. It made him look like a naggy squirrel, it was cute beyond words.

 

The woman shook her head with a smile. “I think you’ll have trouble separating Tim from his coin, though, I suspect he got betrayed by the owner of the last one.” Jason raised a brow and she beamed at him, obviously happy to educate him on the ways of tiny-Dragons. “Tim’s an adult Drake. He’s too old to have been hoardless. Yet a couple of months ago, he sneaked on my booth table and rushed for the highest value coin in the open and settled on it hissing. I think he’d have preferred gold, Dragons usually do. But I always put my gold coins securely in their pouch right away.”

 

Jason didn’t doubt her, he had seen her put his own gold coin in said pouch, tucked between her breasts. It was a sensible place to put one's money, Jason would probably do the same if he had breasts.

 

“So other Dragons have gold?” Jason hummed, bringing Tim up to eye level. “What keeps him from claiming a gold coin when you’re checking your counts?”

 

She chuckled. “Dragon honor. They claim whatever coin of highest value they can possibly swoop down on, but once they claimed something, it’s done. They’re so tiny, they can only really lug a single coin around, so they can’t keep claiming more. I think it’s some kind of work ethic thing too, once is okay, but twice is theft?”

 

Jason hummed, picking the rest of his change from the merchant’s hand and letting her chatter away, since she seemed pretty enthusiastic about Dragons and he was actually interested in hearing all about it.

 

“Anyway, if they want to claim a new hoard, they have to abandon their old one. And that means they have to be hoarded until they claim the new coin, and they hate to be hoardless. Tim can’t fly, so he couldn’t really swoop in on a gold coin the moment it exchanged hands, that’s why he’s stuck with silver.”

 

Tim chirped sadly, but he still maneuvered his coin so he was clutching it with both arms against his chest in a hug-like embrace and folded his head down on it with a croon. God, this Drake was adorable, Jason may never spend that coin again.

 

“What do I feed him, then, miss?”

 

“Oh, I’m Stephanie, or Steph. Dragons eat raw meat. Their usual prey is mice and some big insects, but they will gladly eat chicken or beef too. Give him a pinky worth of it once a day, he’ll doze off for a couple of hours right after eating, so timing it when you want some quiet is a good idea.”

 

Tim shrieked with offense at her words and puffed a bit of smoke. Steph chuckled again. “As you see, he’s smart enough to understand us when we speak, even if he can’t talk. He’ll find a way to let you know what he wants. Don’t babytalk him, though, he hates that. And he likes to discover stuff. Travelling, sure, but also new skills.” She turned her head and pointed to a braid in her hair that was embellished with bits of colorful threads. “He’s the one who did this for me.”

 

Jason whistled. “Nice. You’re good at braiding, Tim.” The tiny Dragon ducked his head shyly and blinked up at him twice. Jason grinned and gestured to the lock of white hair that always seemed to want to be in his eyes. “Do you think you could do something with this so it’s not always in my face? Somehow it gets even more annoying if I try to braid it.”

 

Tim cocked his head, then shoved his coin in his mouth and scaled up Jason’s sleeve and crawled up into his hair much more gently than his tiny claws would suggest before presumably crouching on top of Jason’s head and starting to tug at his hair.

 

Steph smiled at him brightly. “Well, I’m relieved I didn’t just give Tim to an asshole, then. Have a nice day, sir?”

 

“Jason. Nice day to you too, merchant Stephanie.”

 

 

 

 

 

As time passed, Jason couldn’t for the life of him remember what he’d been trading that day with Steph. Tim was the most, if not only, important thing to remember of about that particular day.

 

Jason could pinpoint most of his and Tim’s milestones:

 

Two weeks into ‘owning’ Tim (or at least the coin Tim had claimed), Jason had seen a bright red pouch made of stiffened leather on a merchant’s spread. He’d bought it, despite his own still being perfectly serviceable, then spent most of his free time in the next three days transforming it into a makeshift cavern.

It was ventilated with little holes so Tim would be able to sleep without suffocating. The purse-strings were dangling from inside the neck, instead of their usual place so Tim could open and close the pouch easily, from the inside like from the outside. Jason had also reinforced the bottom with a circular piece of wood and placed other rigid reinforcements in the inside so he wouldn’t accidentally crush his little passenger if he fell on his side while sporting his pouch.

 

Jason could still remember the exact moment when Tim had understood that he had made it just for him so he’d be able to sleep in Jason’s money. The little Drake had positively purred.

 

He always found it entertaining to see his little lizzard crawl in or out of his purse, dragging the stings with him and tugging the pouch closed behind himself.

Even when Tim was in the purse, Jason could still open it by tugging the neck open. He took the habit of giving his little Dragon a moment to sniff and recognise his fingers, though, because otherwise, Tim DID bite. It made a great deterrent for pickpockets.

 

 

Just a week later, Jason had been eating at an inn and Tim had perked up all of a sudden, before nudging his coin under his left hand and leaping off the table. For a flightless Dragon, Tim could sure leap far. There was a squeak, and next thing Jason could see was his small Drake dragging a mouse half as big as him out from under a table. Jason had blinked, then he’d asked the serving girl if he could have a bowl for his Dragon to eat the mouse in without making a mess.

But the most important thing in his eye was that his little Dragon had trusted him to guard his precious hoard while he hunted.

 

The little signs of trust had multiplied after that, and Jason could be proud of having hairdos to rival a noble most of the time now, amongst other small blessings his tiny Dragon afforded him.

 

One of the next milestones was when some men tried to mug him. Even with the reinforcements to his purse, if Tim was sleeping in it and Jason got jostled too hard, the coins inside it got shaken and could hit the Drake. Which woke him up. And angered him.

It was the first time Jason had seen exactly how much damage Tim’s tiny Dragon claws did on human skin. The bloody scratches were no laughing matter.

Similarly, Tim’s little puffs of flame that looked useful for starting campfires, but not much else, did look much more terrifying when they were aimed at someone’s hair and setting it on fire.

 

Then Jason only needed a couple of kicks to send the muggers running.

 

Afterwards, Tim huffed and grumbled and scratched at their pouch until Jason could find a place to safely unhook and empty it. Jason looked on with amusement as Tim chittered angrily while pulling each silver coin from the pile one after the other, sniffing and examining them, before discarding them and pulling the next one.

Tim stopped when he found his coin and curled around it angrily, still puffing out smoke by his nose and muttering tiny growls as his scales slowly lowered along his back.

Jason laughed and petted his head, and Tim stared at him for a few seconds before chirping and dipping his head in a way that clearly conveyed a demand for more pets.