that-shits-reblogable: haiku-robot: vanillalolita: writing-prompt-s: You’re a powerful dragon…
You’re a powerful dragon that lived next to a small kingdom. For centuries you ignored humanity and lived alone in a cave, and the humans also avoided you. As the kingdom fell to invaders, a dying soldier approaches you with the infant princess, begging you to take care of her.
She is devoid of any scales or fur, this tiny ball of squalling royalty.
The knight that holds her is bleeding out more sluggishly than before, running out of life and time as he begs me to take care of her.
“No revenge.” I murmur to him; that is not my way.
“No.” He agrees softly, kneeling before my bulk and drip-dripping his life onto my floor.
“No revenge. Just want her to live.”
He topples over suddenly, and I let him fall. The ball of swaddling is what I catch in my claws. A paltry offering of gold falls from the blankets, body-warm and forgotten as I lift this princess to observe her more closely.
I see aquamarine glittering in her face, eyes lit up with tears in the rose gold hue of her cheeks. She is snotty and soiled, bloodied and unhappy. And she is mine.
“You will need milk.” I sigh, walking best I can on three legs to the back of the cave to settle her in a cradle of smooth gems. Oddly befitting her status, though it means nothing anymore. I breathe hotly over her, the screaming quieting in the face of warm air and the white noise I make.
“Sleep, princess.” I murmur soothingly. “I will return with food.”
“Get down from there.”
I do not need to raise my voice, she knows well enough who I am speaking to and what I speak about. She jumps from the tree branch she had been climbing and lands on my head.
“I want to fly like you do.”
Oh, she is stubborn, with hair like fire and those aquamarine eyes. She pulls at my scales and bares her blunt little teeth in a copy of my own snarl.
“I could gobble you up.” I warn, unable to hide the smile in my voice. It is good she is stubborn; any dragon should be just a little head-strong.
“I would break your teeth with my skull!” She cackles back, scrabbling down to my back to nuzzle the soft leather of my wings.
“When will my wings grow?”
Always so full of questions.
“Maybe never. There are land dragons, sea dragons, dragons of the sky…perhaps you will lose your arms and legs and become a wyrm.”
She laughs her harsh cackle, biting at me playfully.
I love her so.
I cannot even bring myself to tell her she is not a dragon.
i cannot even
bring myself to tell her she
is not a dragon
^Haiku^bot^8. I detect haikus with 5-7-5 format. Sometimes I make mistakes.
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