Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

The nest looked entirely barren. Not an egg nor a shell sat in the tangle of branches, meaning only one thing. Tommy was too late. Again! He stood and stared, hoping for even a trace that he wasn't. That he had a chance of getting his dragon that year, instead of having to wait again.

But no.

Of course not.

Tempora sat just above the nest, watching his shoulders sag and eyes wet with tears with a gentle golden gaze. "I'm sorry, littlest." she sighed, lowering herself back into the nest. "Next year."

"You say that every time!" Tommy gasped, more than fed up with the world. Tempora looked at him with only sympathy- what else from a mother of so many- and pressed her muzzle lightly into his hair. "I just-" he stopped himself, choking back tears. Frustration was replaced with crushing disappointment as he fell into the she-dragon's embrace.

Her neck wove around him, her arm cradling him gentle as a mother should be. She hummed softly, her chest vibrating with the sound, calming Tommy's frayed mind. He sighed, pulling back from the dragon. "I'll try to keep one for you next year, I will." Tempora promised, like she hadn't promised the same thing for years before.

He'd be ten next year. This was his last chance to get his dragon ,and he had missed it. Just like he had every year for the past five. He left the nursery, receiving sympathetic looks from the mother dragons present. Myst gave him a soft nudge when he passed, which he returned with a gentle pat on her velvety nose.

"If it isn't the bondless freak!"

"Fuck off, Percy." Tommy snapped back. The boy was his age, nine-and-a-bit, and had bonded with a hatchling at five, the first year they were allowed to try.

"Or what? You'll send your dragon after me?" Percy jeered, a cruel grin spread across his face. His dragon grinned from their place on his shoulder, puffing smoke at Tommy in mockery.

Tommy turned away and left, heading for the children's home at the edge of town- far away from the nursery, and far away from the new hatchlings bonding with their people. The town had always made him miserable. The moment he was left without a hatchling was the moment he was labelled an outcast. No one wanted to even look at anyone without a dragon.

It was a miracle they hadn't exiled him, though he thought that would change the day he turned ten. They had given him chance after chance, year after year, twice every year, and now, after the Winter hatch, he'd have no chances left. He'd be ten at the time of the Summer Hatch, and he already knew he wouldn't be chosen, so he decided right then and there he would give up.

Summer was no different. The sun shone, the hatchlings sang and chirped and danced, rushing from the nests to meet the children. Five, six, seven-year-olds raced in a cheering mass into the nursery. Some hatchlings scrabbled eagerly from their nest, some leapt into the open arms of children, some clung to the mother dragons' tails and made frightened cheeps and squawks until the right child came by to find them.

Tommy stood by Tempora's nest, watching her clutch disperse to the children. Not one of the hatchlings even gave him a glance, all falling in bond with a younger child. He was ten. He was too old. He had no more chances.

"I'm sorry-"

"Save it, Tempora." he huffed. He had come to terms with the fact he was an outcast when he was seven and still hadn't been chosen by Winter Hatch. Every other kid in the town had a dragon by age seven, at latest eight, but he was ten. And ten-year-olds were only given one more chance before they were deemed unable to bond.

"Try another nest, Tommy, there's bound to be one." Tempora suggested with sadness heavy in her tone. She didn't believe her own words, but Tommy followed her advice anyway. She was the oldest and wisest mother dragon, he would be even more a fool not to follow her advice.

No other nest had a hatchling for him, most of the clutches had chosen already, and no one left wanted to even look at him. He couldn't blame them, he honestly felt disgusting about even being there again. His hair, once golden and bright, now matted and filthy. His eyes, sky-coloured when he was young, had dulled to a hopeless grey. He had no chance. Never had, so he decided to simply leave. Better to leave now than be exiled later.

"Tommy?" Myst watched him pass again, her eyes shining a bright blue like his once did.

"I'm going." he didn't look up, he couldn't. He didn't want the young mother to see the despair in his eyes, nor the tears threatening to spill.

She only looked away and let him pass. He knew, she knew, they all knew, they'd never see each other again after that day. The hatchlings had been bonded, either with children, or with caretakers that would one day adopt them out to the townspeople. So, he trudged back to the children's home, ignoring Percy and his friends' taunts and jeers, and their dragons' mocking hisses and smoke. Ignoring the scornful stares and pitying stares from adults. Ignoring everything until he was in his room and packing a bag.

He didn't own much, but it was enough to fill his backpack. Two changes of clothes, pyjamas, a few snacks, and a bag of gold coins. And his favourite stuffed toy- a cow he lovingly named Henry. Now it was a waiting game. Waiting for the village to kick him out Or waiting for the chance to sneak out. Whichever came first.

The forest was cold, despite the summer sun beaming down over the trees. Leaves tumbled with the breeze, drifting to settle on the stream, washed away by the current, flowing into the river and away to the ocean. Tommy watched with a dead face. Red cheeks, and sore eyes. The tears had only just dried, and now he watched the river flow towards the ocean, or a lake, whichever came first.

His bag sat beside him, tipped over but secure. Henry leaned against it, staring with his one button eye at the flowing water. Fading sunlight danced across the ripples, blinding Tommy the longer he looked at it. He didn't care. No one did.

"Why's everyone so strung up on having a dragon anyway?" he asked his toy, whipping around to face it. Henry stared at him and said nothing. Of course. "It's so stupid! And why are the hatchlings so picky with older kids? Older kids show their personalities better, so why don't the hatchlings like them more than the little shitty ones?" he continued, building up more frustration in his chest.

The constant flow of the river starting to get irritating. The rustling leaves droned on above him. Bugs buzzed around his ears. Fish splashed the surface of the water. Little animals shuffled around in the leaf litter.

Tommy's fist closed tight around a stone on the bank. He let out a scream, hurling eth stone into the water. The splash was small, but the throw was a good one. He was damn good at throwing the things, getting plenty of practice when Percy got too annoying, or Miriam couldn't shut up. He pictured Percy's smug face now, hurling another stone into the water, imagining the boy crying for his mommy when it smashed his nose for the third time in a week. Tommy was the sole reason Percy always had a band-aid strapped across his nose and he found it hilarious.

He found it hilarious that someone so smug and uptight could be made to cry for his mommy with a single rock. Not even a big rock, just a pebble Tommy easily bruised his fragile little face with. There was some sick satisfaction in hurting the pompous dick. Something about hearing someone so overly confident in himself sobbing- begging- for mercy, was so thrilling. So gleeful.

His thoughts were interrupted by a quiet snuffling sound. He turned away from the river, quickly locating the source of the sound under a leafy fern just under the treeline. He crept forwards, couching low to hear the sound better. He was met with a panicked squeak and the tiny snout of a hatchling. Hissing furiously at him.

A tiny hatchling, wings flared, tail lashing. Fins down their spine, ending at the tip of their tail. Twisting silver horns, and night-dark eyes. Glistening blue scales, almost iridescent green in the setting sunlight, and a white belly bordered with black. And ribs. Their ribs showed clear under their scales. They were too small to even be alive, looking like they had only hatched that day.

"Aww, hey, little guy." he cooed, pressing his chin to the ground, ignoring the painful way the stones dug into his skin. "Are you all alone as well?" he asked, feeling a sudden wave of sympathy.

The hatchling was too little to catch prey. They would be swept away and drowned in the currents if they tried, or they'd starve. They were a runt. The smallest hatching Tommy had ever seen, which was probably why they had been abandoned and left to slowly die. Alone, afraid, and... Just like Tommy.

"I can help." he offered, adopting a much calmer tone, schooling back his excitement t finding a wild hatchling. Wild dragons were so much more diverse than the ones in the town, meaning he could have a unique dragon, better than anyone else's. Way better than stupid Percy.

He offered a hand to the hatchling, letting them sniff his palm. Their fins stopped quivering, their wings drooped with exhaustion, and they fell into his hand. They were tiny, small enough to fit in the palm of one hand. He set them down again on Henry's belly. He couldn't help the giddy smile that spread across his face watching them nuzzle into the space under the toy's chin, never once taking his eyes off them as his rolled up his pant legs.

He needed fish. He needed to feed the baby if he wanted even a chance at bonding with them. Bonding with a domestic hatchling was as easy (for most) as letting them crawl into your arms. Bonding with a wild-born hatchling was a whole ordeal that one could put months of work and care into and still get nothing out of it. It was easier with a younger hatchling, which this one was, maybe a week old at most, but it would still take a lot of time.

But Tommy had time. He was only ten. He had his whole life to bond with the hatchling. He had his whole life to bond with any wild dragons. Or any other village's dragons. He wouldn't be going home, not yet. He had plans. He had plans coming together in his mind as he snatched up a salmon from the river flowing around his legs.

Big plans.

Chapter Text

Wilbur. That's what he named the hatchling. Wilbur the river dragon. Or lake. He wasn't too sure of that. Travel wasn't difficult. It was laughably easy to follow the road while staying off of it. Wilbur sat up on his shoulder or atop his backpack while he walked heading for the next town from his own. He'd need a proper analysis of Wilbur before he started training him, but he was pleased that the bonding part had been easy enough. He couldn't get Wilbur to stop clinging to him for more than a few minutes while he caught fish in the river, or foraged for berries.

Wilbur was already doing great with the water, venturing down Tommy to cling to his thigh while the boy fished. He seemed to have a natural inclination to the icy waters of the river, which was understandable, being a water dragon, but it was still funny to watch him jump away from the water when Tommy tried to put him near it. He was afraid and fascinated by just about everything, from the way he acted, crawling down Tommy's legs to investigate anything he could, then scampering to hide in Tommy's hair when that thing spooked him.

A thorn he pricked himself on, a frog jumping away when he got close, a fish jumping out of Tommy's hands. It was hilarious and adorable at the same time. Wilbur would one day be able to speak, and Tommy would love nothing more than to know what he actually thought about the nature he was so interested in. That would have to wait a few years. Dragons aged slowly, mentally at the same rate as a human, physically a little slower, but that meant Wilbur would hardly comprehend human speech for a few years.

At least, that's how it was for domestic-bred dragons. Wild dragons were often viewed as more intellectually developed. So, maybe, Wilbur understood when Tommy told him to 'climb up' or 'shush'. Maybe he did. He certainly knew his name, chirping and huffing whenever Tommy said it. Scrabbling up Tommy's legs when told to 'climb up', stopping whatever sound he was making when told to 'shush'. He was clever little hatchling. And Tommy adored him.

The town was a fair bit smaller than Tommy's, but it had what he needed. An inn he checked into, a small shop he bought a few dragon supplies from- blanket, thermometer, and a toy- and a veterinarian office. The vet was kind and sweet, making no comments about Tommy having a wild-bred dragon, though the other customers seemed a little apprehensive about it.

"Well, he's a little underweight, but other than that, he's in perfect condition." the vet smiled, handing Wilbur back to Tommy.

"How old is he? And what species? I don't actually know." he asked, leaning his cheek against Wilbur's. The hatchling purred softly, ducking behind Tommy's head and onto his backpack.

"A river-lake hybrid, going from his markings and hues." the vet answered, getting a thoughtful look. "And two weeks old." she added. "Well, thirteen days."

"Okay, thank you.." Tommy smiled, turning and exiting.

The next few weeks were spent travelling, spending a few days in towns to pick up odd jobs for gold, and continuing farther and farther from his home town. The weather cooled. Leaves started to redden and fall. Wilbur felt heavier on his shoulders. Three months had passed.

Tommy felt stronger. Colour returned to his eyes, his hair shone golden again, and hung in loose curls around his head. He had tried at one point to tie it back, but Wilbur had snapped the hair tie in protest. Tommy instead opted to tying  high ponytail, allowing Wilbur to crawl freely between his shoulders. They were both content with the hair style, as much of a pain as it was to put up everyday.

Wilbur seemed to be more active as the weather got colder, diving through the fallen leaves whenever Tommy left to his own devices. He had started training his hatchling to the water, stopping for a week at a small lakeside village that was teeming with domestic water-bred dragons. Just holding Wilbur in the water for a few minutes at a time, copying the way locals trained their dragons to swim.

Wilbur picked up the motions quickly, paddling his fins and tail with ease, almost paddling himself out of Tommy's hands. Water dragons of any kind were born with the ability to hold their breath for hours at a time, so Wilbur was soon paddling small circles around Tommy's legs with ease while the boy got advice form the local dragon trainer.

He had gathered up a hefty sum of gold after staying in the village for a week, feeling more than ready to continue onwards. Wilbur, however, was not. He was thrilled to be swimming, so Tommy stayed to let him practise. Two weeks, then three, then a month, then two months. Then it was winter.

The lake was frozen over, and dragon training switched to be more domestic. Tommy hated even the thought of domesticating Wilbur, though he knew he would have to at some point. He potty trained him, taught him to heel, taught him to sit and lay down and where he was to sleep. It was painfully boring.

Wilbur picked up every trick quicker than the domestic-bred dragons, despite being younger than most of them, leaving both him and Tommy bored out of their minds for most of the winter months. Tommy refused to travel in the cold. So, he picked up odd-jobs around the village. Wilbur sat calmly on his shoulders the whole time, pointedly ignoring every other dragon around, watching Tommy's motions as he was taught how to make a dumpling. They weren't half bad for a ten-year-old.

They left in march. Fed up and bored with eth fishing village. Wilbur could swim. Wilbur could fly. Tommy knew how to start fires, cook, season with wild herbs, and they both had new clothes and items. Wilbur walked beside Tommy along open dirt roads between fields, Henry in his jaws. The toy had become more Wilbur's than Tommy's over the winter months, but Tommy knew what Wilbur really wanted.

"A sheep!" Tommy grinned, holding out the blue doll. A blue sheep- cornflower blue to match Wilbur's ultramarine scales- with a yellow bandanna tied around its neck, identical to Wilbur's own.

Tommy tucked Henry into his backpack. Wilbur held his sheep and perched across Tommy's shoulders again, his tail curled over Tommy's heart. And Tommy headed into another stretch of forest.

Chapter Text

Tommy was twelve. Wilbur was two, and reached Tommy's knees. The two of them sat at the edge of a wide river. Wilbur had grown a lot quicker than the domestic-bred dragons, already too big to perch comfortably on Tommy's shoulders, while Percy's five-year-old had still sat on him like an oversized parrot. Wild dragons grew much quicker than domestic. Learned quicker, moved quicker. Wilbur was the best dragon Tommy had ever met. And he was his. His dragon, curled at his side, watching the water with brilliant night-dark eyes. Sunlight dancing across ultramarine scales, flecked with white, the way it danced over river waves.

"You're amazing, Wilbur." Tommy smiled, running his hand between his dragon's wings. He was puzzled by the white flecks, but put it to Wilbur's hybrid genes.

"You." Wilbur smiled back, flicking his ears towards Tommy.

The boy grinned at him, overjoyed with Wilbur's recently acquired knowledge that he could speak. There weren't any real sentences, just frayed boys spoken with a throaty growl, but with context, they meant a lot. Wilbur was more a brother than a pet, and that's how it was supposed to be. Bonded dragons and humans were meant to feel more like family than a pet and an owner. Yes, dragons were animals and had to be trained like them, they weren't meant to feel lesser than their humans. The whole point of a bond was to welcome the dragon as a family member.

And Wilbur was just that. Several veterinarians had made comments on Wilbur and Tommy's bond. How perfect the pair were, and how unusual it was for a wild-bred dragon like Wilbur. It was perfect. They were perfect. Tommy, rejected for never being able to bond with a hatchling, had a perfect bond with his dragon. He was happier now than he ever was.

Tommy was thirteen, Wilbur was three. They had crossed a border, entering a northern kingdom known as the Arctic Empire. It was a frigid land that prospered despite the cold weather. The sun beamed down over the snowy land causing Wilbur's scales to glow in the gloom of the pine trees. He walked beside Tommy, bumping his legs, running far ahead, acting like an annoying younger sibling more than a tamed beast.

The town was large. The air felt heavy when they entered, passing plenty of people, but very few dragons. Tommy had plenty of practise dodging the nasty looks he got, inviting Wilbur up onto his shoulders for extra protection. The dragon obliged, wrapping his tail around Tommy's arm, laying across the backpack and watching the streets with narrowed pupils, his sheep clutched in his teeth.

"Need a new bandanna, big man." Tommy commented. Wilbur had lost his in a river before they arrived at the tundra, leaving his neck unusually bare.

Yeah.." Wilbur hummed, glancing down an alleyway for more time than usual. "Am I okay?" he checked, loosening his tail around Tommy's arm.

"Yeah, you're fine." he smiled back, rubbing his other hand up Wilbur's base-tail fins. The white flecks had become a patch there, which worried him, but Wilbur didn't seem to care.

The inn was startlingly warm compared to outside, which was welcome to both boy and dragon. A large red drake lay beside the fire, opening one bright yellow eye slowly as they entered. "Innkeeper's out, you need a room?" he drawled, raising his head.

"Oh, yeah, just for tonight." Tommy nodded. The drake stood slowly, shaking out his quills and plodded towards them. He wasn't as big as he looked, coming up only to Tommy's shoulder's at his height.

He reached down over the counter, plucking a key from the wall behind it with one claw, handing it to the boy with slow, steady movements. The gold was left on the counter, the drake returned to the fireplace, and Tommy headed upstairs with Wilbur quivering on his shoulders.

"Wilbur, it's fine, he was friendly." Tommy smiled, staring at his dragon. He had dashed under the bed with both his sheep and Henry the moment they arrived in their room for the night. "If you don't come out, I'll just go shopping without you." he smirked, standing up from the floor.

He wandered away from the bed, leaving his backpack on top of it. Wilbur crept out as he turned the key in the door, ready to leave without his beloved dragon. He left Henry, but brought his sheep, and scampered to clamber up Tommy's back. They wandered through the town with Wilbur's tail wrapped around Tommy's waist, looking like a winged backpack to anyone unbothered to give them a second glance.

Dragons were much more common in the town square. Drakes as well, mostly lazing about by public firepits. The clothing store had a welcoming warmth filling it, much like the inn. A drake sat by the counter, looking much more awake than the inn drake, watching Tommy move around with eager green eyes.

He settled eventually on a white undervest, soft woollen shirt, and fur-lined red over vest. His arms may get cold, but that was a problem he could solve when winter came around. It was summer, so he figure the shirt sleeves would be enough. The dragon attire shop was right next door, also containing a drake and radiating a comforting warmth. Wilbur found himself a sunshine yellow bandanna almost identical to the one he lost, and Tommy found a specialised harness to keep him warmer in nice pink colour that paired well with the yellow scarf and Wilbur's dark blue scales.

Dinner was fried fish sticks, and they were out of the town the next morning. Wilbur begrudgingly wore the pink harness, though he complained the whole time, and flew around above Tommy as he walked. It was good to know Wilbur had no issues with movement because of the attire, and it was better to know that it was water-proof. As shown when Wilbur dove head-first into a half-thawed river after seeing a fish swim by.

Tommy cooked the fish (apparently the three servings of eggs and toast at breakfast hadn't been enough) and they walked as Wilbur ate.

Tommy was fourteen. Sending a sword into a man's heart wasn't the option he had wanted, but it was the option he had to choose. The man's body fell to the floor. Tommy stood staring down his two companions, blood soaking into his skin and blade. Behind him, four-year-old Wilbur hissed and snarled, coming up to Tommy's chest, wings flared, thick green blood dripping from a whip slash above his left eye.

The men turned and fled, leaving Tommy and his dragon still in defensive positions. The blood pooled around his feet. Tommy stumbled back, doubled over, and hurled. Wilbur pressed into him gently, offering comfort to his bonded.

"It's okay-" Tommy sputtered, patting Wilbur's snout gently. "I'm okay." he stepped away from the body, turning and heading down the side street they had turned onto.

A trio of men, most likely high on something, had called them down under the claim they had a gift, only to slash a deep cut across Wilbur's head with a whip. Tommy hadn't thought about it, drawing his sword and plunging through the whip holder's chest. The city they were in was safe enough, aside from druggies and thugs trying to steal Wilbur away.

He was an impressive sight. Glorious ultramarine scales, blotches of white at his shoulder and down his tail, shining white undersides and black stripe. Four years old, coming up to a (rather tall) fourteen-year-old's chest, with wings large for any dragon his age, and charming night-dark eyes that glowed purple in low light.

So, Tommy understood why so many people wanted him. He would never understand why some people thought it was funny to whip dragons for simply existing. The gash above Wilbur's eye slowly trickled blood down his face, forcing his eye shut as Tommy led him to the veterinarian office. It wasn't far, just back on track with where they were going anyway.

Neither had changed much since coming to the north. Wilbur still adorned his yellow bandanna, though it was now a scarf to better fend off the cold, and Tommy still wore the white and red he always did. A dirty white shirt, faded red over-vest, and a fur-lined cloak across his shoulders. Brown pants and furred black boots. He looked like any other resident of the town.

And he was happy.

Chapter Text

Tommy was fourteen and a half. Early autumn when the sky starts to darken quicker and snow starts to fall. Wilbur was currently at the inn they had been living in for a year at that point, and Tommy was out finishing up a job for the owner of a cute little bakery near the town centre. He was headed home, hip pack jingling with the coins he had made, and the crack of a whip stopped him dead.

An alleyway, shielded from view, hidden from the light of the street lanterns. Two men, one brandishing a barbed whip, both yelling at a shivering figure cowering from the weapon. His feet moved him towards them. His hands going to the knife fastened to his side. Blood splattered across the cobbles, red mixing with green. The whip-bearer fell away, dropping his weapon. Blood ran down his arm.

Tommy lunged again, scoring a gash into their other hand. The other fled into the street. The whip-bearer glared at Tommy, eyes darting to the cowering dragon behind him. "Fine! Keep the useless thing!" he snarled, running after his friend.

Green blood continued to pool around his boots as he turned. A dragon cowered against the wall, covered nose to tail in deep gashes oozing green blood. Coated in the stuff, their scales a glistening red underneath, their eyes a brilliant sapphire.

"Hey, hey, it's okay." Tommy mumbled, sheathing his knife. He crouched down to the dragon, holding out one hand to their face. "It's okay, I won't hurt you." he whispered, pressing his palm lightly against their cheek.

They made no movement, squeezing their eyes shut tight, trembling violently. Three legs- the left fore gone at the shoulder- the stump bleeding badly. An old wound re-opened by a cruel bastard and a whip. He guessed the men were trying to bind with the dragon, growing frustrated when they were met with refusal. A bond had to be formed over time, not forced upon a clear wild-bred they snatched from their home.

"It's alright." he whispered, moving in with his other arm. The dragon was young, maybe two or three, and far too skinny.

He cradled them against him for a long while, letting them relax into him before standing. The veterinarian wasn't far, though he was still soaked in dragon blood by the time he arrived. The dragon was, indeed, two years old, and severely underweight. Bandages wrapped their limbs and head, and a blanket was gifted to curl around the baby.

Wilbur rose from his bed beside Tommy's, wrinkling his nose at the younger in his arms. "What the fuck is that." he demanded with a snarl, stepping out of his pillow nest towards Tommy.

"A baby, Wilbur, he's a baby." Tommy answered simply, ignoring the disgusted snort from Wilbur. He knew what it meant. He always knew what Wilbur was after, even when he wasn't directly told.

It was important to know dragon body language anyway, for unbonded dragons. A human could only hear the voice of a dragon they bonded with, or a dragon that chose to share their voice, meaning everyone, at least in Tommy's hometown, was taught from age two to understand a dragon's body language.

"Why's it here?" Wilbur demanded, circling to walk behind him. He came up to Tommy's shoulders now, getting a clear view of the blanket-wrapped baby. "Why's it bandaged-ed?"

"He was being abused by someone." he answered, laying the baby on his bed. "I stabbed them don't worry." he added with a smirk.

"Good."

Wilbur was left to watch over the baby dragon as Tommy set out again. A small café at the edge of the town square, guarded by a large black wyvern blocking the door. A closed building that only one other person was allowed to enter. Tommy strolled up to the wyvern, watching her glaring green eyes with his own bright blue. She huffed and stepped aside, allowing the boy entry into the darkened building.

"Sam?" he called into the darkness. One pale blue lantern hung above a round table in the centre of the space, occupied by several other draconic beasts. Their eyes gleaming in the shadows of the abandoned café. "Sam." he called again, aware of the pupils narrowing into slits at his tone.

"Here." a voice came back. Sam stepped out from a door guarded by a huge amber drake, tow arms shifting the animal aside, the other two carrying baskets of less-than-legal items. Potions.

"Hey, Sam." Tommy smiled, meeting the familiar green eyes of the man. "Need a hand?" he asked, fighting back a chuckle.

"I think I've got plenty already." Sam joked back, his eyes creasing with a smile under his mask. He waved his upper arms in the air before turning to pick up another basket of potions. "You need something?" he asked, placing all three baskets on the table. Wincing at the rattling of the bottles hidden inside.

"Healing potions. I found an injured dragonet." Tommy answered quickly, feeling the draconics' eyes burning into his back. They wouldn't take their eyes from him, watching with vibrant shades of emerald, amber, and sapphire, gleaming in the darkness of the building.

"Sure, sure." Sam nodded, glaring at one drake that dared creep closer. The animal quickly retreated, hiding back in the darkness beside a much bigger drake. "Payment?" he asked, turning back to Tommy.

"I have gold-"

"Tommy." Sam stopped him, raising a hand abruptly. "You know that's not what I want."

"I can get you three baskets of nether wart by tomorrow noon." Tommy sighed, a little unsettled by the dealer. He despised the nether, but Sam would only trade for supplies.

"You want a good potion? Get me five." Sam shrugged, not taking his eyes off the boy. Tommy knew he could sense his discomfort, he always knew what Tommy was thinking or feeling. Then again, Tommy was well aware how easily readable he was. "Two baskets of nether wart, three of corruption supplies. By tomorrow, at noon, and you can have your potion."

"Deal."

Chapter Text

"His name's Technoblade." Wilbur announced loudly. Tommy stalled in the doorway for a moment, wholly not expecting Wilbur to sound do excited. "He's two-and-a-half, and wild-bred, like me." he added, swinging his tail gleefully. Technoblade lay on Tommy's bed where he had been left, watching Tommy with wary blue eyes.

"Good to know." Tommy nodded.  "I got a deal with Sam for a healing potion for him, so I'll be out for most of tomorrow." he smiled, settling beside Technoblade on the bed. The dragon shuffled away with a pained squeak.

Tommy gave him a gentle smile. His hands ran over their back, feeling the bumps and dips of whip slashes left by the man. His blood boiled feeling the injuries left on such a young dragonet. Wilbur curled himself in his own bed, nestled amongst pillows and blankets Tommy had acquired over the months they had been living in the town.

Technoblade leaned into Tommy's gentle touch, purring softly against his open palm. Tommy smiled, shuffling the dragon over to allow himself to lay down. Wilbur bundled himself into the bed on Tommy's other side, purring into Tommy's hair, one wing spread over Tommy and Technoblade.

The following morning was spent being chased down by wither skeletons and blazes, running through the twisting wine-red halls of a nether fortress. Wilbur with saddlebags over his back, both stuffed with fresh bundles of nether wart, Tommy with Technoblade clinging painfully to his back, his tail coiled tightly around his waist.

They emerged from the portal seconds before burning alive, stumbling out into the snow-covered forest with eth sun nearing the highest point. Tommy collapsed face-down upon exit, laying still in the snow with Wilbur nudging him with rising panic. He sat up, shaking snow from his hair, knocking Technoblade form his back, and shifted his over-shoulder bag to his front.

A jar of spider eyes, a small wooden box of brown mushrooms, and a bundle of sugar cane. Everything Sam had asked for. Corruption ingredients, used in the making of weaponised potions- harming, poison, weakening, and slowness. Illegal to be crafted by anyone other than the king's own alchemist. But, Sam was never one for following rules. That was clear the moment he and Tommy met, as he hurled poison potions into the face of a thug attempting to disembowel Tommy. And sent his wyvern to maul the rest.

He had become Tommy's favourite person after that, and Wilbur's. A jet-black wyvern perched outside the café front, glaring green eyes watching Tommy approach with false confidence. He was terrified of getting close to her, or any of the draconics inside. They were a flock. And a damn powerful one at that. But they were Sam's. And Sam made sure they wouldn't hurt him, making each one familiar to the boy over time.

"Hello, Pandora." Wilbur greeted, dipping his head to the wyvern. Technoblade gave a small whine, which Tommy guessed was a similar greeting to the alpha.

Pandora hummed her own greeting back and stepped aside, watching Tommy enter the building. He was met with glaring eyes of various colours, coming from the many draconics that made up Sam's flock. "Sam?" he called, shifting Technoblade to his front. The dragonet refused to release his death-grip on Tommy, eyes darting nervously to the flock members around him.

"Welcome back." Sam smiled, dropping from a balcony over looking the first floor. Shrouded in the shadows that flooded the place.

"This is Technoblade." Tommy smiled, setting the baby on the table. He squeaked and ducked his head under Tommy's armpit in response, prompting a quiet chuckle from the dealer. "I got everything you asked for." he added, placing the jar of spider eyes on the table, followed by the sugar cane bundle, then mushrooms. "Corruption ingredients, and Wilbur's got nether wart. I-I know it's not exactly how- how much you asked for, bu- but I couldn't get that-" he stopped, hearing Sam's gentle laughter.

"It's plenty, Tommy." he spoke calmly, watching Wilbur set the nether wart out from his bags. "More than enough." he corrected, a look of surprise passing through his eyes. "I'll get your potion, one second."

As it happened, Tommy and Technoblade's birthdays fell one right after the other, with Techno's first, then Tommy's the following day. Three years old, entirely silent (even in dragontongue, according to Wilbur), and the most obedient dragon Tommy had ever seen. Technoblade followed every order with out question, trembling slightly each time he was asked to fetch something, or told to sit or stay or follow. It was concerning to say the least.

Technoblade's hatchday was spent venturing around the square gathering supplies for a party. Wilbur, now reaching head-height with Tommy, padded along beside his bonded with his head held high, pride practically vibrating off of him. Technoblade, at Tommy's mid-section, followed a little bit behind, wary eyes darting through the crowds and various other draconics.

A special cake was ordered form the bakery Tommy helped at often, with a sizeable discount given. Wilbur and Technoblade picked out a gift for Tommy, and Tommy picked out a gift for Technoblade. The three of them spent the afternoon in their room at the inn- a much bigger room, since Technoblade was a wild-bred as well- sharing cake and a good dinner, then giving Technoblade his gifts.

A stuffed pig toy from Tommy, with a harder outside to deflect Technoblade's growing tusks, and a small crown sewn onto its head. A set golden rings that slotted neatly onto his horns, three on the left, two on the right each bearing a glittering jewel of different colours.

Tommy's birthday wasn't much different, wandering around the square, spoiling himself with what gold he had scraped together over the nearly year and a half he'd lived in the town. Sam stopped him to gift him a small velvet box, containing a hand-made ring. Four thin wires, three silver, one gold, braided into a ring, fastened together with a small piece of onyx. The bakery owner gave him a free box of cupcakes, two for him two for each of his dragons, and wished him a happy birthday. And it really was.

"Ambrosia helped me pick this." Wilbur grinned, holding out the stuffed mooshroom. A soft red and white cow plush with tiny felt mushrooms stitched onto its back. 

Tommy took it carefully, squishing the mushrooms, feeling small beads inside each one. "Mushroom Henry." he whispered. Wilbur purred in amusement, pulling over his plush sheep.

"They are friends." he announced, holding the sheep to the mooshroom.

Tommy chuckled, feeling giddy at the silly interaction. Meaningless moments of goofiness were often the best. Technoblade stayed quiet as usual, watching the two mess around with their plush toys. Henry sat beside him, his own pig toy nestled against his one foreleg.

"What did you get him, Technoblade?" Wilbur asked, turning his attention to the red dragon.

Technoblade quickly moved his eyes away, refusing to meet either of their gazes. Dark blue eventually found bright. Tommy looked at him with worry deep in his eyes. Was he hoping for a gift? Was he disappointed? Angry? Sad? Technoblade shook his head, rising to stand on unsteady legs, meeting Tommy's gaze as steadily as he could.

"I didn't-" he stopped, seeing both their eyes light up. He was voice-sharing. He was speaking to them both. "I didn't get a-an actual gift." he spoke slowly, self-conscious of his voice, only worsened by the message he was trying to deliver.

"That's fine." Tommy smiled, full of kindness and understanding. Something Technoblade had never known for the first two-and-a-half years of his life.

"I-I, instead, have a-an offer." he added, eyeing Wilbur carefully. The lake dragon was reactive enough as it was, only getting worse when another draconic approached his bonded. "I offer my service to you. A-as a second bonded."

Tommy froze. Wilbur stared blankly. Technoblade shrank back. Then, Tommy smiled. A warm, open smile that meant nothing but good things.

"I accept your offer." he nodded, shuffling closer to the dragon. "I've been wanting to ask for a while, but I know you've been through a lot, so I wasn't sure."

"O-of course I want to bond!" Technoblade jumped towards him. "You're the only human I trust, I will serve you until the day you die."

Tommy nodded, pressing a hand to Technoblade's cheek. Their foreheads touched for just a moment, quickly interrupted by Wilbur wrapping them both in his wings. Loud purrs filled the room, vibrating through the air as a comforting rumble that echoed deep into the night.

Tommy Innit, once an outcast, unbonded to any dragons, now the proud bonded of two wild-bred dragons. Happier than he had ever been. Fifteen years old, and free.

Chapter Text

They quickly left the town behind after that, heading out a week after Tommy's birthday. Tommy led the way, following the the worn dirt road through a thick pine forest, kicking aside overgrown patches of bracken and ferns. Fifteen years old, with two young dragons following his every step. Long golden hair tied in a neat ponytail, bright blue eyes sparkling in the sunlight.

Wilbur, four years old, almost five, coming to roughly the size of a horse. Sunlight dancing across ultramarine scales, blotched with white patches. Wings too big for a dragon so young. A small scar above his left eye. Night-dark eyes tracking the smallest prey animals around him. Ears pricked, alert to every sound.

Technoblade, just turned three, coming up to Tommy's shoulders. Glistening crimson scales, limping on three legs. Scars littering his body from head to tail. Wings flared slightly, ears pinned back. Gold rings glinting on silver horns. Ivory tusks flashing from his lower lip.

Both dragons trailed obediently along behind Tommy, bickering playfully in dragontongue. Tommy stayed ahead, tracking the dirt road through the forest, following a vague idea of where the next town should be. Much smaller than the last, much closer to the capital city.

The town came into view the moment they left the trees. Smoke rose from blackened houses, swirling up into the midday sky. The earth scorched to ashes. The trees twisted into thin blackened remains at the edge of the forest. The air burning with an unbearable heat that left even Technoblade uncomfortable.

"What the hell happened?" Wilbur whispered, overtaking Tommy by a few steps.

A furious roar answered the question. Shaking the very ground they stood on. Technoblade jumped to Tommy's defence, answering with a deep bellow of his own. He was met with the sound of beating wings.

Verdant scales. Cold grey eyes. White pupils narrowed into slits. Black feathered wings. A dragon. Smoke rising from their jaws, teeth bared in a snarl ears pinned back. Silver horns glistening in sunlight. Bright green blood oozing from a series of slashes across their shoulder. Talons gripping what remained of the town gateway.

"Well, that explains it." Wilbur mumbled, stepping up beside Technoblade. "Hello, we're just passing through." he smiled, coming between the snarling dragons. He flicked Techno lightly with his tail, causing the red to flinch back.

The green dragon snarled again, smoke spilling from their jaws. Technoblade took up front position in a heartbeat, shielding Tommy and Wilbur from the wave of fire sent towards them. Tommy's eyes remained fixed on the blood dripping down the green dragon's side. Falling in heavy drops from an open wound just out of sight beneath their feathered wings.

"They're hurt." he whispered, hardly audible above the roar of fire.

Not a second thought was needed to send him running into the open. He knew how to deal with dragons. He had done it plenty of times. Granted, they were domestic-bred dragons, and he had learned very quickly that wild-bred were very, very different, but he didn't care too much right now. There was an injured dragon he had to help.

And yeah, that dragon might have been trying to kill him, but y'know, he's Tommy.

He ran beneath the dragon, getting a proper look at what was causing them pain. Three arrows jutted from their back, embedded between their scales just behind their wing. Their eyes followed him, sending the dragon back into the remains of the village after the boy. They weren't as big as Tommy had thought, coming up just bigger than Techno, and a little smaller than Wilbur.

"Hey, hi, I can see that you're hurt, I can help!" he called over his shoulder, meeting the furious eyes of the dragon. "I don't want trouble-"

"Then leave!" they roared, flaring their wings the moment they were in the centre. "You shouldn't be here."

"I know, and I won't be for much longer, just let me get those arrows out of your back and we'll be on our way." he smiled, taking a cautious step closer. The dragon looked a whole lot less angry now, more pained- afraid. "I only want to help." he repeated.

"I can deal with my own injuries. I have for years." they snapped, backing away from his hands. He couldn't help but notice their limp, favouring their left leg, rather than the one covered in blood.

"That's a lie." Tommy responded. He knew dragons well enough to know when they were lying. And he was right, judging by the way their ears dropped and pupils dilated.

"Leave me alone." they said again, now sounding more exhausted.

"Not until I've helped." he smiled, moving again towards the dragon. They were young, probably somewhere near Wilbur's age, and clearly grieving. He wouldn't ask why or who, he would simply assist the wounded dragon and move on to the next town.

The dragon dropped to their belly, splaying their wings out at their sides. Tommy took care to walked around them, moving to the back where he had a clear view of the arrows. The tips lodged between the scales, spilling bright green blood nearly invisible against their verdant hide. Wilbur and Technoblade had appeared, staying far from the wounded, watching Tommy with worried eyes.

One arrow came out with little issue, though more blood spilled from the wound, soaking the glossy black wing feathers. The second stuck hard. They hissed in pain as Tommy wiggled the projectile around. Blood spilled down their scales. Stained his hands. And the arrow came free splitting the skin, tearing the scales, spilling blood across their back.

Tommy was thankful the third came out much easier. Probably because he had just split their skin far open. Wilbur came up just behind him followed closely by Technoblade. Watching as Tommy pressed a rag against the bleeding arrow holes. He had medical patches specifically for use on dragons, picked up just before he left the last town. Now, he pressed one over the three slices, pressing it down over the slowly bleeding holes.

"What's that?" the green asked, having moved to watch Tommy's motions.

"It'll stop infection and stuff while you heal." Tommy answered, making sure every side of the patch was properly stuck to their scales. "It'll fall of eventually, but you should be okay when that happens." he added, seeing the concern gleam in their eyes.

"Hm. One for my chest?" they asked, gesturing to the bloody gashes across their right shoulder, wrapping across to their chest.

"Uh maybe bandages would be better." Tommy mumbled, stepping around they wings to get a look. The wounds were cleaned but much bigger than any of the patches he had bought. "It'll probably be fine if you can keep it clean properly, I was a little worried about the ones on your back, since they're under your wings."

"I'm Philza. He." he smiled, rolling onto his side.

"Tommy." Tommy smiled back. "That's Wilbur and Technoblade." he gestured to his other dragons in turn.

"How old are you?" Philza asked softly, sitting up. He was smaller than Wilbur, but bigger than Techno, as Tommy had guessed, coming to eye-level with Tommy.

"Just turned fifteen a week ago." Tommy shrugged, not sure why it mattered. "How old are you?" he asked back, raising a brow.

"Six. Them?"

"Four, and three." Tommy pointed to Wilbur and Technoblade in turn.

"So you're all children."

"So are you." Wilbur snapped back. Reactive.

"I know, but you're younger than me." Philza smiled, sounding brighter than before. "Would it be okay if I followed you? I'd feel a lot safer in a group." he added, shrinking back a little.

"Sure, we're just heading from town to town for now." Tommy smiled, receiving nods from both Wilbur and Technoblade.

Philza took up the back, limping unsteadily along just behind Technoblade. Wilbur practically pranced ahead, falling back into pace for only a few moments before another burst of energy overtook him. Tommy led the way, dead-set on getting to the capital within the month. He may have lied to Philza a little. He had always had one goal in mind, ever since he bonded with Wilbur. A goal only his first dragon was aware of.

Tommy was going to become king.

Chapter Text

No surprise, the capital was crawling with draconics. Drakes that scuttled away into alleyways. Wyverns bearing the royal sigil, and too many scars, patrolled every street. Dragons sat outside their bondeds' shops, or following their bonds around their business. Domestic dragons much smaller than Tommy's wild-bred perched on shoulders like parrots.

Tommy led the way towards the head of the city, towards the castle. The wyvern patrols became much more frequent the closer they got, while bonded dragons became more scarce. A rather large inn welcomed them to the largest room for a largely discounted price, giving them an entire three-bedroom suit for their stay. They were given a free meal, and the first few nights at the inn for free. It was nice, but a little weird.

Tommy went out later on, finding a street lined with shops and small businesses. One caught his eyes almost immediately- a bakery. He entered with a bright smile, gazing around the simple shop. A few people and their bonds sat eating various baked goods at the small tables along either side of the space. The display case gave view to a variety of cakes and pastries that looked even better than the ones visible through the window.

A small pink dragon sat just beside the counter, watching him with wide blue eyes. She hummed softly, drawing his attention away from the cakes. He sighed, moving closer, running a hand between her ivory white horns. She purred, pressing into his palm with a quiet snuffle.

"Berry, are you bothering people again?"

A young woman stood behind the counter, gazing at the dragon with near identical pale blue eyes. Just in the doorway of what Tommy assumed to be the kitchen.

"Sorry, welcome to Cloudy Cakes, how can I help- Oh gosh." her eyes drew wide when she saw Tommy meeting his eyes with a shocked look.

"What? Do I look that bad?" he chuckled, feeling a little self-conscious with her eyes on him in such a way.

"Oh- no, no." she shook her head quickly, schooling her expression to something calm. "I'm sorry, I just wasn't expecting.." she trailed off, glancing at Berry. He assumed they were bonded from the way the two stared for a few moments before both nodding and turning back to Tommy. "Pick anything you like, on the house." she smiled sweetly, cupping her hands in front of her.

"Oh, you don't- I-I can pay, I don't mind." Tommy stammered, taken aback by the offer.

She insisted regardless, practically forcing him to take the four cakes he ordered for free. He managed to leave a sizeable tip before leaving, but it was nowhere close to what he owed her. The cakes were delicious as well, which only added to the guilt of not paying her full price for them. The dragons agreed, an argument sparking between Techno and Wilbur for the former not sharing his.

Philza only laughed and complimented the treats, commenting that he had never had such a thing. Tommy made a note to pay full price next time he went to her bakery before tucking into bed.

Everyone was being nice. Tommy was too used to being ignored or looked down upon. So when a local grocer gave him half off his groceries, when the baker once again gave him free sweets, when the innkeeper gave him such a huge discount, he was freaked out. And reasonably so. No one even bothered to give an explanation, not so much as offering one when he was visibly confused by their actions and offers.

Wilbur had noticed the special treatment as well. More than once, he had been offered free treats from various shop owners when he passed by, as were Technoblade and Philza. It was very confusing, and a little suspicious. His instinct told him to stay alert. Something was definitely wrong.

Tommy got fed up after the second week, forcing the baker to accept his payment. He felt terrible for not giving people the money he owed them, so, he helped out in the market. He swept storefronts, served tables in cafés, delivered mail for the post office. He saved up stacks on stacks of gold coins, and payed back what he owed the people he had interacted with.

he was grateful for the discounts but he felt terrible when people gave him free things, insisting to pay at least three quarters of what he owed. Things improved by the third week, with people getting the hint that he felt bad for receiving free gifts from their livelihoods.

"Morning, Niki." he grinned, strolling again into her bakery. Niki whipped around so fast her ponytail almost came out. Berry chirped happily when he entered, dancing in place until his hand was within headbutt distance, slamming her forehead into his palm as a greeting.

"Hello, Tommy." Niki smiled. She shooed Berry away and drew out a tray of freshly made cheesecake. "Mango and syrup cheesecake, curtesy of my brother." she announced, setting the cake into the display case.

"I'll have a slice of that, and my usual coffee." he smiled, finally pushing Berry away. She bumped his leg again before returning to her spot beside the counter.

The cake was delicious, his coffee the perfect mix of sweet and bitter with the caramel sauce and cream swirled into it. He soon left Niki's bakery, re-joining Wilbur and Technoblade outside with a treat for each of them. A crowd had gathered closer to the main street. The barking roars of wyverns echoed around the walls. A parade of some sort had appeared. Or not.

Atop a pedestal, guarded closely by three wyverns bearing too many scars, the biggest branded with the royal seal, was the king. King Schlatt. The world's worst king. A tyrant who actively encouraged his guards to abuse the wyvern flock belonging to whoever was king. A monster in human-ish skin. With curved ram horns and teeth too sharp, his fingers constantly stained black with wyvern blood.

And there he was. Displaying the abuse he inflicted on his flock with the largest wyvern bearing a burn in the shape of his seal. A ram's skull burned into the sensitive skin of their chest, on clear display for all to see. The crowd was silent, glaring daggers at the tyrant who dared show his face. It was a common fact that anyone who dared assault the king would be burned alive by the wyverns, or poisoned with the singers. But Tommy was far too tempted to have Technoblade burn the bitch right then and there.

The king said nothing, simply stared with a wicked grin at the people he starved for gold coins. The people he was supposed to protect. The people he abused and neglected as much as his flock. The carriage moved on without a word from the king, the branded wyvern following obediently along behind him, not daring to take off until the king gave a subtle hand signal. Tommy watched them wince just spreading their wings, feeling a wave of sympathy for the animal.

"That monster." Wilbur hissed.

"Branding a wyvern like that. In such a place!" Technoblade agreed, digging a claw into the ground.

"Parading around like he's so fucking great." Wilbur snarled, drawing a few eyes towards them. He jumped a little, not meaning to have growled out loud. Tommy chuckled patting his shoulder, and led the way through the dispersing crowd back to the inn.

"It's him."  "Look t his hair! His eyes!"  "Those dragons- could it be?"

The whispers followed him until he slammed the inn doors closed, turning all eyes to him.

"Everything alright?" Ponk's voice came from behind the bar, gentle brown eyes following the boy towards the stairs.

"Fine, sorry for slamming doors." Tommy replied, disappearing up the stairwell. He felt a little bad for snapping at the man who had given him such a perfect place to stay, but that guilt was replaced with anger the second he caught another conversation about him. It could only be about him.

He paused outside the door, sending the dragons ahead to their room. He pressed his ear against the door, hearing a conversation between two men on the other side.

"You saw that dragon as well as I did!" the first voice sounded ecstatic. "The one with green scales, and that kid they were with!"

"It's got to be them, I saw that same kid with another two as well- two other dragons- they all match with what the seer said." the second voice sounded just as excited.

"That kid's gotta be him- th-there's no other explanation." came the first voice again. Both sounded drunk, and he knew they were talking about him.

A kid with three dragons? Yeah, that's Tommy. But what did the seer say about him? Is that why everyone's giving him free stuff? He'd have to find that seer.

Chapter Text

The seer was a dragon. Because of course she was. She welcomed Tommy in with a soft purr, stretching out over a long red sofa. Her eyes lit up upon seeing him, gleaming pale green in the dim light.

"What the fuck have you been telling people about me?!" he demanded, storming right up to the dark dragon.

"That you're a hero." she answered easily, sitting up across her chair. "You are Tommy Innit, correct? With hair golden as sunshine, and eyes bright as the sky."

He stopped dead, caught off-guard by the flattery. "W-what?"

"I received a vision, five years ago, of a boy like sunshine itself, who would bring an end to the tyrant ruling over this land, bringing an era of peace as king." she explained, smiling gently at Tommy. "And your dragons." she added, catching Wilbur peeking under the curtain.

"Oh, yeah, that's- that's why I'm here, actually.." Tommy mumbled, shifting uncomfortably in place. Feeling his cheeks flush red.

"I know." the seer whispered. "Do they?" she nodded to where both Techno and Wilbur were now peeking through the curtain.

"They do, I haven't told Philza since we're aren't bonded." Tommy answered, shooing the dragons out.

"Well, you should tell him soon." the seer advised, drawing her eyes away from him. "He'll support you. So will they." her eyes were brought upwards, towards the ceiling. Towards the sky where the wyverns patrolled. "They follow their flock leader's word, not the king's. It's just their leader fears the king greatly. Overcoming that fear with care will turn the tide of the war before it even begins."

Tommy nodded, having an idea already of who the leading wyvern may be. "Thank you, I apologise for storming in here so angrily before." he smiled, giving a quick bow before leaving.

The seer was correct. Philza was more than okay with the idea of Tommy taking over the Arctic Empire. Tommy had sent Wilbur and Technoblade to speak with various dragons he knew he could trust to spread the word to their bondeds. They returned late in the evening, having informed everyone who Tommy had named, giving Tommy a chance to head out.

It was easy enough to sneak through alleyways, assisted by a stray drake, finding his way to the castle easily. And finding exactly who he was looking for. The branded wyvern. The biggest of the flock, chained by the throat to the wall of the castle, forced to stay upright against the hard stone, lest they be strangled by the heavy chain.

The branding stood on full display on their chest, blistered and smoking, like it had only just been done. Several wounds covered them, some still bleeding, some showing clear signs of infection, especially that horrid branding. The skin around their throat, were the collar sat, was chafed and scarred, the scales worn away to revel sore, reddened skin underneath.

Their scales were a glistening black in colour, dark green stripes running down their tail and legs, hardly visible against the near black scales. Moonlight caused the scales to glow dark emerald, dancing across their scarred form as they shifted against the wall, trying to force the chain to loosen.

Tommy's hand moved before he could, flinging his knife into the chain. The wyvern fell onto its front claws with the weight of the chain, vibrant green eyes snapping open at the sudden change.

"Uh- hi?" Tommy smiled, meeting their eyes, preparing to run. Instead, they shrank away, backing further into the wall, bowing their head in surrender. "I-it's okay!" Tommy gasped, moving forwards. "I'm not here to hurt you."

"Y-you're not?" they shifted off the wall taking half a step closer. "Why- it's you!" they gasped, rear up, dropping their head again with a wince.

"Yeah, it's me. Famous prophecy boy." Tommy chuckled. "Name's Tommy."

"Dream. Or- well, that's what my mother named me.. No one actually calls me that anymore." he crouched down into the grass, watching Tommy carefully. "A-are you here to rescue me?" hope sparked in his eyes, quickly breaking as Tommy shook his head.

Tommy felt his heart ache at the sight. An alpha wyvern should be a proud creature, leading their flock to prosperity and freedom, not chained to a wall, burned and beaten into a broken shell of what they once were.

"I'm here to kill the monster that did this to you." Tommy corrected, placing his hands gently in Dream's nose. He was about Wilbur's size, a little bigger, but Tommy knew he'd grow to be huge, as would his dragons. Dream looked at him with new hope now, a small smile spreading across his face. "Not tonight, but soon. I'll kill him and you'll never be hurt like this again."

"Promise?"

"I promise. I'll save you. I'll save every one of your flock as well." Tommy nodded. "I'll need your help when the day comes though. I have a few helping hands, but I'll need you there as well."

Dream shifted away at that, glancing nervously around, like he expected to be attacked gain at any moment. He slowly shook his head, settling down into the grass. "I-I'll try." he murmured, lowering his head into the grass.

Tommy nodded. That's all he could ask for really. For everyone to try and help with what little they had. So, he gave Dream a final determined look, truly disgusted by the king that harmed such a magnificent creature, and followed the stray back towards the inn.

Chapter Text

Niki, the best baker in the city. Pale blue eyes, and jet-black hair, with two streaks of white through the front. Bonded of the dragon Berry, a pale pink female with the same eyes and small white freckles. Both were young, both had been abused by the tyrant king, and both were ready to murder the thing.

Ponk, owner of the inn, kind and gentle, with a bit of a manic streak. Snow white hair, just like his dragon, and gentle brown eyes currently burning with rage against the king. Bonded to a snowy white dragon, poor vision and pale red eyes- an albino. And caretaker of two drakes who acted like guard dogs.

And Jack, Niki's brother, and a more than reliable grocer (and illegal weapons dealer, but we won't pay attention to that). Red-brown hair, cropped short, and mismatched red and blue eyes. Not bonded, but the caretaker to a trio of stray drakes.

Sam had arrived to the city a month after Tommy, only a temporary thing, but he was more than ready to help Tommy as well.

Now, Tommy sat in the basement of Ponk's inn, organising a raid on the castle. Ponk was damn fast, good at moving- and so were drakes of which there were currently five. Jack Ponk would begin the raid, bringing the drakes to the front gates, bringing out the guards, and hopefully not the wyverns. If the wyverns did show within the initial attack, Tommy would rely on Sam and Niki to deal with them. Both were skilled enough to fend off the guards, and both of them had fire draconics with them. Technoblade would be the main defence, being entirely fireproof, but Berry and Pandora would be with him.

Wilbur was big enough for Tommy to ride, and Philza was a heavy fucking hitter. Wilbur carried Tommy on his back, crouched out of sight behind a building. Ponk and Jack were drawing a lot of attention to themselves with the five snarling drakes at their heels. Ponk's dragon padded along at the front, bearing her teeth in a snarl, waiting for a guard to make a move. The intent was clear, but the guards made no actual moves towards them.

"Idiots, are they just going to let them right in?" Niki hissed from somewhere beside him.

"That seems to be the case." Pandora muttered, watching Ponk and Jack stop in the middle of the bridge. They were too far away to hear, but Tommy saw them share a few words.

And the drakes launched into the nearest guards. Shouts started up immediately. The air echoed with snarling and growling. Blood splattered across the ground. People started to emerge from the nearest houses, seeing the chaos already overtaking the castle. Ponk and Jack had drawn swords, clashing against the guards that came streaming to the bridge.

Someone went charging passed, followed by a howling dragon, brandishing a sword of their own. Another civilian, and another, followed by their dragons yipping and barking with excitement. Niki ran to join the fray, followed swiftly by Berry, then Sam and Pandora.

Then the wyverns came. Pouring over the castle. Filling the air with a cacophonous shrieking. Led by Dream. Tommy internally sighed. He should have expected to see the alpha there, fighting on the side of the king. But he knew it wouldn't last.

Technoblade took to the skies with Philza at his side, launching to meet the wyverns with echoing roars. Domestics took to the air as well, following their lead into a battle of wings and flame against the royal flock.

Blood, both red and green stained the ground. Swords clashed against each other, drowned out by the howling roars of the draconics filling the air in a mess of talons tails, wings, and fire.

Tommy flung his hood over his head, bending down to see Wilbur properly. Wilbur locked eyes with him. Gave a firm nod. And they were up. Soaring into the battle with Tommy crouched low on his dragon's back. Effectively hidden under his cape and between Wilbur's wings. Deafened by the screeching around him. Blinded by flashes of red and blue fire bursting passed.

Clinging hard to Wilbur's scarf. Pressed flat against his back. Almost toppling off as a wyvern slams into the dragon's side only to be slammed head-first into the castle wall. Green blood splattered across the stones and the wyvern fell dead to the ground. Another ne targeted them after that. Burned alive by Technoblade swooping in last-minute.

Another swarmed by a gang of young domestics. One blasted away by Phil. One thrown from the air by Pandora. Mauled by drakes. Stabbed by citizens. Drowned. Beaten. Burned. Mauled. Clawed. Swarmed. Falling...

Falling? Falling.

Tommy was falling.

Hurtling downwards through the air. Wilbur above him grappling mid-flight with a large wyvern. Getting further away. Tommy's heart pounded. Icy fear gripped his mind. Blurring his vision. Sending the world spinning away. Waiting for the sickening crunch that would end his sorry attempt at being a hero.

Hard talons closed around his middle. The air rushed upwards, bringing his hood down. Screams of treason echoed from angered wyverns. Tommy dared to open an eye. He met the tearful green of Dream.

"I'm sorry." he whispered, dropping Tommy on Wilbur's back. Letting out a screeching roar. Bringing cascades of wyvern fire over the guards on the bridge. "We're with you King Tommy."

Chapter Text

Storming through the halls was laughably easy. Philza and Technoblade led the way, scorching any guards who tried to get in the way. Blood and ash stained the carpets, but Tommy wasn't a fan of the harsh red anyway. The throne room wasn't far, but the maze-like halls confused them all more than Tommy thought it should.

The room itself was huge. A long, empty hall, with pews lined up towards the door, and a long red carpet leading to the throne. An empty throne. The cowards had either fled or was hiding.

Wilbur, Technoblade, and Philza spread out, stalking across the room, blue, grey, and violet eyes scouring for any trace of the tyrant king.

He was gone. Wilbur returned to Tommy at the door, leading the way back into the rest pf the castle. He had a good idea of what the king smelled like- alcohol and hatred- from how the stink clung to the throne cushions. He followed the trail of the smell, pouncing on and disembowelling the few guards that tried to stop them.

Screeching, shouting, roaring flooded through the halls from the battle raging outside. Blood splattered across the windows and walls. Too many had been killed in a war against a tyrant. The guards that were killed likely followed out of fear or blind loyalty, dying for a king who couldn't care any less for them or their existences.

The king was found dead. Dead as dead could get. Eyes rolled back into his head. Crown still clutched in an ice cold hand. Tommy took a step towards him feeling a little let down. He sheathed his sword and took the crown.

"He's... already dead." Wilbur muttered, looking at the corpse on the bedroom floor.

"Hm. Looks like a heart attack or something." Tommy shrugged, turning the crown over in his hands. "Guess the old fucker just got fed up." he shrugged, admiring the red gems set into the crown. Why was it all red? He wanted blue. And he'd get blue. When he was king.

He turned away from the body leading Wilbur to the front of the castle. A single long hallway. Untainted by blood or burn marks. Technoblade and Philza stood side-by-side by an open doorway. A balcony over looking the city.

Silence echoed down the hall. Suffocating silence after the roar and screech of battle. Tommy stepped out, Wilbur right behind him. All eyes turned to him. Golden light beamed down over the bloodied crowd.

Tommy raised the crown. Setting sunlight danced across the polished golden surface. Reflecting in the ruby gems embedded in the item. He held it up, letting all present get a good look.

"King Schlatt is dead!" he announced, lowering the crown onto his own head. It fit. A perfect fit, like it was always made for him.

Cheers erupted from the crowd. Draconics gave loud screeches of victory. Dream launched himself onto the balcony perching beside Tommy, looking as proud as a leader should look. Technoblade took up place beside him. Philza pulled up beside Wilbur.

Four pairs of wings raised high, and four more voices joined the cheers.

Long live King Tommy! Long live the King! Long live the King!

Tommy could only smile as the crown was placed upon his head. A silver crown, decorated with glittering sapphires and emeralds. Dressed in navy blue, sat on a throne of violet cushions. Three dragons and a wyvern at his sides, each in a cloak bearing the new insignia of the Arctic Empire.

A dragon, coiled around a blade, carved in silver and black on blue banners hung around the throne room.

The crowd cheered again, seeing Tommy and his draconics on the balcony. Screaming praises and well-wishes to the young king. From a city cleaned of blood. Parading the new banners around the street, flown and worn on a harness by every member of the royal wyvern flock. Patrolling the skies above the city and farther.

Tommy let a hand rest on the railing. He didn't know exactly what he was doing. He wasn't fully prepared. But he's Tommy. What else were you expecting?

Sam came up beside him. Ponk on his other side. His advisor. And his alchemist. Niki, his chef and Jack, his head guard. His friends. Trained by the best of the ex-king's own servants. Appointed in the weeks after the battle. Trained in the year it had been.

Tommy had been appointed king officially on his sixteenth birthday, and now he celebrated. His friends- his family- his home. Cake and balloons and games- everything he never had growing up.

He was king. He was free. He was happy.

He was home.

Chapter Text

Putting this here purely to alert anyone who read this and wanted more of King Tommy and his many, many dragon friends that there will be a sequel! Coming kind of soon to AO3 : Royal Dragons, the second part to Wind Dragons, where Tommy's old village learns of his uprising, Tubbo and his sister Aimsey discover a whole secret life beneath the Arctic Empire (Tommy's empire), and whispers of war threaten the fragile peace Tommy has made for himself in his palace.

Featuring : Springduo and Beeduo bonding, Clingyduo, positive Discduo, family bonding, Syndicate content, and Dragon!Philza collecting broken kids (both human and dragon) like Pokémon