Archive of Our Own ^beta

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.

Chapter Text

Jason had been blessed with his little Drake for three full months when he first met Dick.

At first, there wasn’t any reason to think it would be a remarkable experience.

Granted, the man walking toward him (or the crossroad, probably the crossroad,) was sporting a tiny black Dragon hunkered down on his shoulder. But as Jason spent more and more time in the southern parts of the world, (it wasn’t much of a sacrifice, he may not be cold-blooded, but he also appreciated the warmth,) he’d gotten used to the sight of small Dragons.

Tim was sitting on Jason’s shoulder, holding his coin in one paw as he meticulously cleaned his other forepaws with his tongue.

And that was when a green thing flew out from under the black Dragon's wing, careening straight toward Jason.

He instinctively raised his hands to protect his face, but the tiny thing was not aiming there, instead crashing right into Tim.

Tim tumbled down from his shoulder with a surprised shriek, still holding his coin securely. The stranger yelled "Damian, NO!" and started to run after the tiniest of tiny Dragons Jason had seen yet.

"What is wrong with your fly sized Dragon?" Jason bellowed, trying to help Tim out. He stopped his attempts when a flame almost roasted his fingers. On the ground, the tiny green bat-like Dragon and the Drake were wrestling over Tim's coin.

"Oh, god, I'm so sorry! Dami, no, stop! Bad. Stop it, leave him alone! Bruce, tell him to stop, damn it!" The stranger jostled the black Dragon, prompting it to make some sort of growling noise, followed by what sounded a lot like two meows.

The green Dragon, Damian, answered with his own growl, though much higher pitched than Bruce's had been. Tim swiped at the green thing's head with a front paw, still holding the coin firmly enough that Damian couldn't steal it and shrieked angrily.

The black Dragon nudged the stranger's ear and crooned. The man grimaced. "That again? Come on Dami, why do you have to steal someone else's coin? Leave him alone."

Damian puffed smoke in response, but kept tugging at Tim's coin, his tiny wings flapping to brace himself. Which was starting to seem more and more ridiculous as it was obvious that Tim's size and four legs gave him a definite advantage in stability over his little aggressor who only had two legs and a pair of wings.

Reassured that Tim wasn't in much danger, Jason crossed his arms and glared at the stranger. "What the hell is wrong with the grasshopper?"

The man huffed. "He thinks the only worthwhile way to get a hoard is to win it in combat against another Dragon. He's been attacking every single one we've come across for a week now, even though I did offer him to pick any coin from mine."

Jason narrowed his eyes speculatively and crouched down. "Hey, Tim. Would you let the gnat have your coin if that guy let you pick a replacement from his coins?"

Tim didn't let go of his treasure, but the way his eyes cut to the stranger's purse was pretty telling.

The stranger blinked, then fumbled with his pouch while going to his knees next to the miniature brawl and upending the coins in the dirt.

Tim's eye tracked amongst the offered money, but he didn't let go until Damian tugged harder, braced backward on his legs and flapping vigorously, screeching through his mouthful of silver. The Drake suddenly opened his maw, letting the green Dragon tumble back ass over head.

Without even sparing a look at Damian's impressive tumble, Tim leaped at the stranger's money. The Drake landed straight in the middle of the mound, spraying the shiny metal from his landing, and dug around until he could seize a gold coin. He shoved it in his mouth and scurried back over to Jason.

Jason smirked as he surveyed the scene. Tim with his new gold piece scaling his pant leg, the stranger on the ground trying to gather his money back from it's spread out state, the green little monster hunched over Tim's silver coin and hissing at where the Drake wasn't anymore. It was a pretty satisfying image actually. Nonetheless, Jason extended an arm in front of his face when Tim made it up to his shoulder so he could confirm that his little Drake wasn't injured in any way.

The stranger finished putting all his coins back in his pouch, snagged his tiny green bug and stood back up. "Thank you, Tim. Sir. I thought I'd have to apologize for Damian's poor behavior forever. I'm Dick, by the way." The stranger (Dick, seriously?) extended a hand with a beaming, blinding smile. "And these are Bruce and his son, Damian, my Wyverns."

"My name's Jason, and the Drake's obviously Tim." Jason smirked back. "Don't thank me, you're the one who just gave up a gold coin for a silver one. Who named the green imp Damian, anyway?" he added.

Dick stared at him for a couple of seconds then answered. "That's money well spent in my books. As for the name, well, his mom, I guess." He glanced at the black adult who grunted. "Yeah, it was his mom."

"Wait." Jason hedged. "His mom is a Dragon too, right?" Dick nodded, looking at him as if he was stupid. "How come he has a human name?"

"Oh, that's the humanized version. They say it like... Hum, Bruce, would you introduce yourselves?"

The dark, bat-like Wyvern shot Dick a narrow glare, but related, pointing a wing claw at the little thing in Dick's hand and basically mewed twice "Haymia" then stood back straight and added "Mrumph."

Jason had caught on the lack of a coin around 'Bruce', but his eye caught a little pocket that he'd taken for a mending patch at first, a couple of inches down Dick's chest from the Wyvern's perch that seemed the exact good size to fit a single gold coin in. If that wasn't a surefire sign of a Dragon lover... Then again, It wasn't like he could say much about it, what with his own custom purse and all.

Tim shifted, putting his new coin back in his little paws, and chirped back. "Kymiaothy."

Jason frowned at Tim. Wait? "Timothy?" Tim crooned adding a little 'Kym' before crawling back up Jason's arm to lodge himself almost all the way into his neck, half hidden under his hair, peering at Damian suspiciously.

Dick's eyes were doing a back and forth between the two of them. "You didn't know?"

Jason couldn't help but to feel a bit defensive. "The merchant who gave me Tim told me his name. I thought she'd named him."

"Hum, no, their vocal cords don't let them use human language, but they do have their own tongue and name themselves on their own."

Jason hummed, wondering how he could use that new knowledge to connect with his Dragon better, since Dick seemed able to do it with Bruce. He usually had a pretty good head for tongues, maybe he could get Tim to teach him Draconic…

He turned back toward the crossroad. "Well, not to be rude, but I do have to go."

Dick glanced at the way Jason was standing and grinned. "Hey, I'm going to Coast City too. Wanna walk with me?"

Jason shrugged, well aware of Tim's stiffening against his neck. "Road isn't mine."

Dick's smile could probably be weaponized to blind people.

Damian seemingly decided that he preferred to perch on a shoulder rather than a hand and started scaling up Dick's sleeve. Jason almost snorted at the comical sight of the tiny green bat-thing struggling to drag a coin almost as big as himself in his mouth while scrambling for purchase with his paws and wingclaws. He ended up having to go backward, so the coin would slide instead of catching on folds. The spectacle was hilarious. (And Tim apparently shared his amusement.)

As the other man took his place next to Jason, Bruce walked over Dick’s shoulder to get closer to Jason. He chirped warmly to Tim. Jason felt his small Drake ducking his head shyly before he crooned.

Damian started hissing like a waterfall from his new perch back up on Dick's other shoulder. A glance confirmed that he had all his scales puffed up like Tim sometimes did; it looked even worse on the tiny green Wyvern as it did with Jason's Drake, inching much more toward the cute kitten end of the scale than angry predator.

He was silenced by twin growls from both Dick and Bruce. It didn't stop Tim from clutching his coin protectively to his chest and skirt around Jason's neck so there would be an obstacle between himself and the tiny green ball of anger.

Tim kept a wary eye on Damian and his new coin firmly clutched to his chest in case the little thief tried to attack him again while Dick and Jason chatted, comparing the ways in which their little lizards (oops, Dragons) made their lives easier or harder. But they still found they couldn't bear the thought of living without them.

(Apparently, green, and sometimes yellow, was a common juvenile shade for Wyverns and Dick expected Damian to turn a similar shade of black as his father. Though Damian's mother had been a gorgeous deep gold, so Dick still wasn't certain what color would come out of the little monster's adult moult.)

Tim snorted and retreated to his pouch-cavern when Dick started in on his little green demon's (very well) hidden qualities.

Dick’s speculative glance at Jason’s personalized purse made him think that someone else might do the same as him on that front...