Dragons with Flower Crowns

hello all! kensa here! this is just a post to say that as of may 23rd, 2024, this account has been archived. it has taken me almost a year and a half to work up the courage to write this final post, and here we finally are.

toa was a wonderful experience. i will always look back fondly on the memories I was able to make there, and the skills I was able to hone as a writer. while I made many mistakes which I will forever be sorry for, I am grateful for my experience within the group, as it has allowed me to grow into a far better person than I ever was before.

if you want to contact me for any reason, feel free to add me on discord (@/nimine54). i am always open to dms, be it to discuss anything that happened, or to start anew.

ulircursed​:

     Allowing the younger boy to drag him along without resistance, Andrei accepted the bow and arrows while Kana chattered on at his side. “…Is that so?” Brows raised in a mixture of surprise and faint amusement at the boy’s story — to do as he had done would require impressive strength… though apparently one not backed up by precision. It could be rectified, though, if he so wished.

     First, the task at hand. “What are the rules for this… game?” he asked the staff member that had handed them the weapon. “If you hit the outer ring, that’s good for one knife; inner ring a fork, and a bullseye will net you a spoon!” came the overly cheerful reply. Andrei hummed in consideration.

     It was more proper to eat waffles with a knife and fork, of course, but the latter alone was sufficient if nothing else was available, making it a prime target. Nocking the first arrow, Andrei took aim carefully at his intended mark as he drew back the flimsy bow.

     Thunk.

     The dulled arrow-tip bounced off the target on the wall, leaving merely a small dent to mark its place in the middle ring. He lowered the bow as the instructor held up the prize, in the form of one gleaming fork. “Here you go!”

     Taking it from the other’s hand, Andrei briefly considered his options. The toy bow was well made enough that hitting one of each mark would not be a difficult task for him, but…

     His gaze drifted to the eager boy beside him. Perhaps it was his time with Patricia (which he would do well to forget, he reminded himself none too gently) that had made him more open to the thought of instruction, or perhaps it was Kana’s own unique personality that had called out to him, but either way, perhaps there could be more to this activity than simply helping him win the utensils.

     Andrei held out the bow, along with one of the arrows, towards Kana. “You need only hit the outer ring to earn a knife. Perhaps you could make an attempt,” he said, “I will instruct you on your stance to ensure you do not cause a similar incident as before.”

Kana watches with marked appreciation at Andrei's—well, everything. His form, the concentration clear on his face, the slight furrow of his brow as it hits him just how flimsy these bows are. Had Kana a notepad and a pen, he probably would have jotted down all he saw—or, at the least, doodled a quick picture.

Grey eyes dazzle in awe as Andrei is handed a fork. A fork! That's basically all they really needed for breakfast! (He wonders for a moment if the kitchen staff would get angry if Kana used his sword to cut his food.)

The bow sits awkwardly in Kana’s hands. He takes it with his right hand and weighs it for a moment, frowns, and switches it to his left; back to his right; and his left again. Neither felt correct, but Andrei held it in his left hand, so best to just copy him, right?

Tabling the bow, dragonling lays his arrow over it, clicking the arrow in place just under the nocking point. “This little guy faces up, right?” he asks, tapping the rooster feather. “Cause it’s a different color...” he trails off as he lifts the bow. 

Overestimating the bow’s power, Kana pulls back far too quickly and far too hard, extending the string far past his ear. The action shocks him and, before he can aim properly, the arrow slips from between his fingers. 

“OW—!!” 

The bowstring snaps against inner elbow and the bow clatters to the floor (much to the chagrin of the event coordinators). Clumsy fingers claw up his sleeve to reveal a bright red welt against his inner elbow and forearm, one that would be much worse if not for the fabric of his shirt protecting him. 

carefreemonk​:

“Well now, that simply will not do,” Azama says with a cluck of his tongue, brow furrowing. “It shan’t matter how dressed to the nines you are if you don’t have the attitude to go along with it. You’re a prince, for heavens’ sake - channel your inner… princeliness or something.”

The monk shrugs, annoyed but resigned. If the boy didn’t feel up to snuff, Azama would simply have to take the reins. He could do that. Oh yes, he certainly could.

“Pah! I always do my best, if you didn’t already know.” He clucks again, as though how dare Kana imply anything otherwise. All the same, he’s glad the dragonling’s on board.

The courtroom awaits - metaphorically speaking, of course. For within, they shall be judged, and they will be found either worthy or wanting, one of the two.

Kana leads the charge following their interlocutor’s address, and chipper Azama - as always - is all too happy to follow up. Any day he has reason to brag about himself is a good day. (What do you mean monks are supposed to be humble? Whoever came up with that rubbish?)

… Although, this particular question happens to ring a bell.

(Unlike Fodlan however, Azama can’t really tell this woman that it’s his liege who’s led him here.)

“Indeed, we’ve heard enough to give many a man seeking opportunities cause to blush, ohoho,” he chuckles behind a hand. “And of your kind heart, ma’am. But I digress! You asked us a question. What has led us to where we are today? Hmm, hmm, hmmm~”

Fingers steeple together. “Hard work and just spirits, I would have to say! You’ll find no darkness in our souls, and you shall quickly learn we are men of our word: as my companion here has alluded to, we are new to town and looking for a chance to rest our weary feet - from the roads, that is! Taking pride in our work is another matter altogether, hoho!~”

What with his blathering very eloquent response, their interviewer simply. Stares.

And, clearing her throat in a ‘…that’s nice’ kinda way, she looks to Kana instead. She leans forward oh so slightly, gives an encouraging smile. “And what of your strengths, dear?”

A flurry of responses came to mind, all along the same message of I wasn't exactly raised a prince, but the scene moves on before the words can form. Kana likes to think he's pretty princely no matter what, anyhow!

Azama says words in a way Kana doesn't quite understand, somewhere in between flattery and flirtation, but the pretty lady doesn't seem particularly impressed. The look in her eyes is one that many have worn from the moment Azama opens his mouth, but it fades as she turns her sights upon the younger of the duo.

“My strengths? Oh, well, I work really well in groups!” There was an art, he was finding, to bending the truth to get what he wanted. “Things always go smoothly when I work with others. And, I’m really good at staying positive, so that’s pretty helpful for working with people, too!” 

The interviewer nods along, her smile egging him on just a bit more. “And your weaknesses?” 

Kana never liked this question. He didn’t see why anyone needed to know anything bad about him, but apparently saying “nothing” was a bad answer. He considers a moment before replying. 

“I have trouble saying no, I think,” he nods. “And I’m short, so it’s hard for me to reach tall stuff!” 

i’m nearly caught up with replies now, only owing two replies (Take A Paws (Siegbert/Celica) and Off-Brand Fantasy Village (Siegbert/Kiran)) and one starter (Morgan/Leif sword prompt). if i’m missing anything else, please let me know! i know a ton of stuff was planned at the beginning of the month and i just wanna make sure i’m not accidentally forgetting anyone. 

princessmacedon​:

Rumor has it that life-giving fairies reside in a nearby forest. They say if you’re dexterous enough to catch one, she’ll stay with you and heal you even when you’re at death’s door. Investigate the forest and see if you can’t put these rumors to rest—or prove them true. [Grants Reason +1]

“Right?!” A tuck of the chin as the little princess leaned forward, ruby eyes with passion a-glow. Wrists bent at narrowing angles, her spot in her seat shifted as she impressed her ardent agreement. “Isn’t it just too mean to catch them?” Brows and lips furrowed, the weight of it all tipping her head ‘til it pressed against her shoulder, a pout most thoughtful nearly kissing her sleeve. “Maybe if catching them was just winning a game… Like hide and seek? But, hmm… I’d much rather be their friend!” 

–such was the conversation she recalled as the two of them darted through tall grass and firefly lights, for what better time to meet a fairy than at their most resplendent? Small hands grasped at either side of her hood, lowering it as the stone and steel shadow of Garreg Mach disappeared, not a peek left to be seen between throngs of leaves and green. 

“This is a good place, I think,” Maria murmured, voice lowered to a half-whisper without realizing it. “It just feels right!” Like if they touched a cobweb, their fingers might catch on fairytales and fables, and if they waited for the morning dew, they might watch wishes dance with magic and settle on the leaves. Turning over her shoulder, she placed a hand on Kana’s own, glancing at him just a moment before her gaze still soared outward and elsewhere, night lights reflected in rose quartz. “What do you think? Hee hee, should we start looking?”

Crickets chirped, and frogs at some unknown pond did send their murmurs through the underbrush. Softly enough to make her voice part of their song, the little princess called out to the wilds. 

“Hello!” What better way to start a friendship than with a greeting? “Is anyone there? It’s very nice to meet you!”

@dragon-kiddos

“No, no, you’re right! It’s like the people who catch bugs but don’t release them—it is mean!” Dragonling had ardently agreed before, and now, with tall wildflowers tickling his legs and the forest breeze cooling his cheeks, he feels ever more strongly about it. 

Together, the adventuring duo, donned in their capes (embroidered with secrets yet to be found) and courage dancing in the highlights of their eyes, ran the forest like it was their home. In a way, it was: Kana and Maria often played here among the fireflies and trees’ whispers, and even this deep, they always found their way home. There was no danger here: only more journeys to be had. 

“I think this is good, yeah,” dragonling hums, ears twitching on end at the night creatures growing ever louder. The monastery was quiet, but the forest sang jubilant life—Kana understood it well (even if it was almost nearing their bedtime). “If we ask nicely, maybe they’ll come out and play!” 

Princess calls, but no fairies come to answer. Kana frowns a bit, for a part of him had expected this to be easy. Didn’t fae normally get along well with kids? (Or were they too old, now, to be their friends?) 

A sound like an acorn rattling along the inner curves of a wooden cup rings to the west. Within the trees, movement breaks the forest monotony, and Kana gasps out when he sees it. 

“Hey... hey!!” He gestures towards the greenery, lit only dimly under the canopy. The noise rattles once more. A glance exchanged with his companion and Kana creeps forward. 

“Do you... hey... do you wanna play with us?” 

There is silence between the duo—or perhaps trio—before the softest voice whispers on the breeze.

“Play?” 

freedomarrow​:

 @dragon-kiddos ; Bow +1

Sigh.

Training is training, Leonardo knows it, and with that in mind, he signs up. He needs it, needs whatever practice he can get, desperately so, to better his still mediocre and average skill with the bow. But this whole competition for cutlery? He does not comprehend the sense and logic behind it. What is the point?

   (Hey Leonardo, have you ever heard of having fun?)

   (When Edward isn’t around? No, not really probably.)

At any rate, he receives his three arrows; at least he can treat this as a good exercise in properly utilizing scarce resources. One never knows when that will be a necessary skill to have in a pinch. He has been there more than once, after all; the Dawn Brigade could hardly afford to purchase new quivers for him on a regular basis, especially while on the run, and so Leonardo is well versed in the art of scavenging for arrows good enough to reuse.

But there will be no such thing here. He gets those three arrows and that is it.

Silencing his thoughts about the whole game idea in favor of quiet focus, the blond loads up the arrow, aims, sh—

“GAH!”

The arrow flies way off-course, thankfully not hitting anything alive (from the sound of things, at least? No one screamed), and Leonardo feels the ground beneath him and someone’s weight upon him. Sitting up, he groans.

“Ow… Please watch where you’re walking!”

This wasn’t the first day the dining staff was offering the archery-cutlery game, and it probably wouldn’t be the last. Kana had gotten by his past few meals—Andrei helped him with most, and he got a fork and knife for dinner all by himself the night before—and, dragons willing, his luck would continue. 

But not so much for others.

Little dragon didn’t mean to run into the blonde bow boy. Really, Kana hadn’t even seen Leonardo in the way! Maybe it was because he was so quiet and sigh-y that Kana just didn’t notice his presence at all. Nevertheless, his race with one of the other monastery children is cut short as he barrels directly into his classmate. 

The ground is soft. Or Leonardo is just squishy. Kana blinks owlishly downwards, confused; how did he end up here? 

“Oh... I’m sorry!” 

Scrambling to remove his behind from Leonardo’s body, Kana jumps to his feet. Gloved hands extend to help the other up. “I didn’t mean to! I was just playing with—”  Looking around, it seems his friend had disappeared (run off the moment trouble stirred; they were already on their second warning with the monks that week!), and Kana was left alone atop his victim. “... Oh. Nevermind. Are you okay?” 

It’s only now that he notices the low-grade bow clutched in Leonardo’s hand, alongside the dull-tipped arrow marked with yellow paint by the kitchen staff to denote their property. 

ulircursed​:

     If he’d had a say in it, Andrei would’ve tried to avoid all contact with anyone on his way back to the underground city where he called home. What wounds he’d sustained in the final battle had been healed, and with this last checkup, there was little more need for him to walk all around the monastery on a regular basis, as though he belonged here.

     The crowd gathered around the dining hall was an unexpected sight, and even as he tried to navigate his way around it, he heard his name being called by an excited voice. A pattering of excited footsteps later, Kana stood before him, grin bright enough that his expression couldn’t help but soften a little in turn.

     He hadn’t seen Kana among those headed into the storybook on the rescue mission, and a part of him was glad for it, relieved that he’d been spared one more harrowing battle during his time within the monastery’s halls.

     (He still didn’t quite understand why he cared so much; it’s not like the boy was weak. It was simply… but no, he shouldn’t think of what he’d already left behind.)

     Attention focused back upon the boy’s words, Andrei looked from Kana’s expression to the end of the dining hall, where he could indeed make out the targets lined along the wall, as well as students standing before each with a bow in hand.

     “Utensils?” he repeated, confused. In fact, he had not heard of anything regarding whatever prompted this gathering, but the fact that archery was involved did at least explain why the boy had come to him for help. This was what he was good at, after all. He nodded at Kana.

     “…I will see what I can do,” Andrei promised, waiting for him to lead the way.

“Yeah, utensils!” dragon parrots with marked enthusiasm. “I guess the staff are trying to make people not-bummed-out, so they came up with a little game. We gotta shoot the targets to get our utensils to eat, but we only get three shots. Each ring is a different utensil!” 

He pauses a thoughtful moment. “A lot of people are eating with their hands. But, yay! We won’t have to do that with you here, heehee!” 

Gloved hand slips into bare one, Kana wasting no time in tugging Andrei along across the dining hall. The crowds part for them as they near the shooting station (with certain students leaning protectively over their plates while at their seats, not knowing when the dragonling might next jump atop the tables). Without hesitation, Kana finally releases Andrei’s hand to snatch up a proffered bow—more like a toy than a weapon—and three dull-tipped arrows. Promptly spinning on his heel, he deposits his finds into the archer’s unsuspecting grasp. 

In collaboration with the kitchen staff, the archery professors have come up with a fun game. Each ring of the target corresponds with a piece of cutlery. Outer ring = Knife, Inner ring = Fork, Bullseye = spoon. Each student gets 3 arrows and whatever they hit is the cutlery they get to eat dinner with that night. Will they get all three or a strange mix or none? Either way the chefs hope they enjoy a hearty meal of soup, pasta with pesto & sausages, chocolate pecan pie and ice cream. [Grants Bow +1]

The dining hall is abuzz with excitement after the previous night’s events: those that had left on missions between story pages finally returned, unharmed but not unaffected. With the monastery’s near-silence since the students’ departure, Kana was eager to reunite with his friends and finally make some noise. 

Three archery professors stand posted at one end of the dining hall. Students crowd around them, and only after standing atop a table (much to the chagrin of the kitchen staff) does Kana see what all the hubbub is about: three targets, each ring labeled with a piece of cutlery. If the students didn’t want to eat with their hands, they had to shoot straight. 

Talk about a challenge! And so early in the morning, too? What a way to ease back into the academy lifestyle! But, there was one problem: Kana, like many others, was not versed in the art of archery. 

Gazing down at his gloves, he wiggles and flexes his fingers out as he contemplates the worst that could happen if he ate with his hands. His gloves might get dirty, but they could be washed. Even if he ate with his bare hands, he could wash those, too! (But the feeling of food on his bare skin might destroy his appetite in the first place.)

Dragonling turns his gaze over the crowd, searching for one man in particular. It wasn’t too hard to spot him: there, apart from there rest, did he stand in a meager attempt to blend in with the crowd. Perhaps he hoped to steal a set of cutlery without drawing attention to himself or participating in this little game. Maybe he was trying to slip away. 

Kana wouldn’t let it happen. 

“ANDREI!!”

Feet beat against wooden tabletops, jumping over plates and pitchers to meet his mark. Students and staff both curse under him. Dragon finishes with one flying leap, landing heavily in front of Andrei (and leaving one last footprint nearly in someone’s plate of pancakes). His eyes shine and his grin sparkles; the sun to the archer’s shadow. 

“You’ve heard about the utensils thing, right? We gotta win ‘em with archery! So, so, you’re an archer, so you can show me how I can get a fork and knife for my waffles!”

lualamina​:

The scaled beast speaks and dispels any doubt Jeritza had had about his student in his new form. This is Kana. Still, knowing does not ease his stance nor loosen the grip his fingers have on the hilt of his sword. He is free to turn to the trees without concern over reptilian claws drawing blood from his back, however, and assesses them in silence as the human voice continues to echo and reverberate out from the beast at his side.

He thinks first of a hunting dog. The ones his father had could run foxes from their burrows and chase pheasants into the air. They could track down trophy bucks and secure rabbits with fur clean enough to sell right off their backs. If they were to retrieve this pet without harm, then a keen sense of smell and the ingenuity to chase into a trap would have to work in tandem. Claws, horns, dragon veins – Jeritza throws the information out for irrelevance or impossibility or something he simply can’t wrap his thoughts around yet. Change the terrain. He had never fancied himself a tactician so he cling instead to what he knows; what he has witnessed with his own eyes.

“Find that creature,” Jertiza issues his order at last. Bright as its fur had been, he can’t see it through the trees now. He sheathes his blade and rolls one shoulder in lieu of a glance back at his charge. “Come. We waste daylight.”

An affirmative hum marks his understanding. Alone, the monkey travels easily through the wood with neither footstep nor trace, but the addition of the sharp blade leaves jagged edges in the scenery. Fresh-cut branches and leaves fall to the ground at far intervals; it was certainly better than nothing. 

Kana falls into step after Jertiza without hesitation. Better to allow the other to spot the nobleman’s pet and stalk it in silence than risk his size and inability to remain stealthy in this form and scare it off. 

heartoftheloathsome​:

Hubert grins, knowing that he exudes the exact visage he intends. His presentation is eerie and unsettling enough to where he can be perfectly designated as what he is—a dark caster. 

Well, at least, that is according to young Kana, who says he… ‘looks the type.’ While such a phrase could be construed as an insult, Hubert would make no such folly. Kana’s simplistic observation had proved to Hubert everything he needed to know about how he is perceived. Youthful, undeveloped minds utter the most profound truths, no? 

“I am flattered you see me as such,” Hubert states. “I am, in fact, ‘the type.’ However, I have not met your father. Not yet, at least,” he finishes with a hazy cadence. Sooner or later, Hubert muses.

The two trudge forth, javelins gathered haphazardly in their arms, and Kana mentions Lady Edelgard (before Hubert, as surprising as that is). Being described as his lady’s shadow brings about a surge of pride within him. Others may think it strange. Yet, Hubert feels no discomfort at the notion of him being but a mere extension of Her Highness—an extra limb, eye, mind—or anything she desires from him that she herself cannot achieve (which is not much, for his lady is capable of anything and everything she puts her mind to… but, her plate can get quite full at times).

“Again, you flatter me,” Hubert says to Kana with a gentle chuckle. He doesn’t chuckle often—it is Kana’s lucky day, he supposes. “I am Lady Edelgard’s retainer. In fact, my family has served House Hresvelg for a thousand years. My destiny was determined even before I was born, it seems. For that, I am grateful.”

“And,” Hubert continues, interrupting himself with a delicate sigh. “I am sure Lady Edelgard would find it cool if you threw a javelin high enough not to break a window. An impressive feat, sure—but the cost of compensation must surely be outrageous.” 

Hubert ruptures their easy silence with an inquiry: “What about your destiny, Kana? What ambition has the universe assigned to your heart?”

“You won’t be able to scare papa,” he hums, nonplussed by the filtered promise. “But he might scare you!” Even Hubert had to be afraid of something, right? 

“That’s cool that it’s a sort of family job, your being a retainer.” Nohr wasn’t like that. The royals had a tendency to pluck people off the streets, go I like this one, I’m keeping it! and give them a job. Hoshido was more rigid, with their retainers having more practice. He wonders if Vallite retainers would be more similar to Nohr or Hoshido—or to House Vestra, as they were to House Hresvelg.

“I don’t have any retainers yet, but I have my best friends! I don’t need any retainers when I’m here, though, ‘cause there’s so many people around to keep me safe.” Church-sanctioned missions more or less excluded in this department. “Maybe I’ll find someone here in Fodlan to be my retainer, though, and bring ‘em back to Valla! I think that’d be fun, like sharing culture.” 

Javelins shift in his arms and Kana readjusts before he can be thrust the chance to drop them once more. “But, hey, can you throw a javelin far enough to impress Lady Edelgard?”

Hubert’s question reaches him as they near the training hall. His walk slows just a tad, perhaps not noticeable to one of similar stature, but Hubert must see how he has to curb his already-stilted stride to match his cadence further. Dragon pauses a moment before answering. 

“I might have already fulfilled my destiny,” he admits eventually. “I fought in the war with my mama and papa and everyone else, and we ended the fight between Nohr and Hoshido, and started Valla up again after it was lost. It’ll be a really long time until I’m king,” if he was—would he outlive his mother? Or would his human blood cause him to pass before she abdicated? 

“Who knows if I’ll even do much when I rule? Mama will have already made Valla amazing. I can’t surpass that.” 

heartoftheloathsome​:

“All right, all right. Allow me to lend a hand, then,” Hubert says.

Hubert, equal parts shocked and grateful that this young student hadn’t found him terribly intimidating, complies. He bends down to gather the remaining javelins in a gangling motion; he utters a mild curse or three as he struggles to balance the hefty weight against his chest. Hubert doesn’t have much physical prowess to write home about—but, all at the worthy price of an exceeding efficiency in dark magic. Casting brutish spells and nothing but takes a toll on one’s earthly body, Hubert tends to note each time he catches a glimpse of himself in the mirror.

If not for Mother Nature’s gift of long legs, Hubert would be lagging behind this bouncing youth. He wished he had the same unfettered tenacity this kid did, because obviously, it was quite the driving force. Hubert imagines him pushing through anything, no matter how arduous or daunting the endeavor may be. He makes up for his size with colossal conviction. Hubert can admire a person with intent, spirit, aplomb… well, so long as they aren’t Ferdinand von Aegir—in that case, Hubert would rather not dwell on the amber-hued essence of zeal that so rudely pops into his head. He fears he may grow unreasonably sidetracked if he allows that boy to exist within his head for even a moment longer.

He looks onward, shaking his head of such vexing distractions. A bobbing mass of silky white hair leads him on with a spirited bounce, and he feels a sheepish smile spread across his lips. Hubert acknowledges that his own bleeding heart had pulled him to help in the first place—and that is enough to strengthen his hold around the bundle of javelins and push a little harder with each step forward. 

The puzzle piece that had been missing finally slots into Hubert’s mind as he calls:

“Pardon my ignorance, but what is your name?” 

Dragonling pays no mind to the struggles of his fellow student. If Hubert skipped arm day, that was his problem. Kana knew plenty of mages that skipped arm day and leg day all the time! Even papa, with all his magical might, was still an asthmatic with twig arms. But Kana wasn’t like that! His twig arms could lift!

“Me? Oh! I’m Kana—Kanahara. Azure Lúngwòhng,” he adds each addendum with a stilted tongue, as if just then remembering he was meant to continue speaking. “Of Valla!” (Ah, but even now, he forgets the crown prince part...)

“I’m in the Blue Lions. My mama’s Corrin, she’s a knight! And papa is Professor von Dragmire, or sometimes people call him Professor Leo—he teaches dark magic, so you probably know him, ‘cause you look the type.” 

Attention turns forward once more, marching along with his javelin pile like he hadn’t just implied the worst of him. Because, y’know, dark magic is bad. (It’s not. It’s just that a lot of bad people use it! Just like swords!) 

“And you’re with the Beagles, right? Err, Black Eagles,” he corrects with a sheepish grin and a backward glance. “I see you hanging around Lady Edelgard a lot. You’re like her shadow!

heartoftheloathsome​:

@dragon-kiddos

Is that a child Hubert sees? He… supposes so—his height surely is an outlier amongst the other students, but definitely not unheard of. What sells the idea, however, is the boy’s bright, youthful face and underdeveloped figure. Hubert’s awe at the boy’s sheer compactness can’t exactly be stifled, as he watches with intrigue at the student’s attempt to carry a large pile of javelins all on his own. A fluffy cloud of silver hair pokes out from behind spearheads as he waddles forth, the weight of the weapons clearly burdensome and hefty between his spindly little arms.

Hubert’s attempt to remain seated as he watches this fierce battle is fruitless. Warm plucks of sympathy strike his heart as the student fumbles a javelin or two—his face twists into a frustrated glower at the sight. It’s so sad, and so precious. Hubert shakes his head as phantom anecdotes of domestic life pass through his mind. Here, at the monastery, he’s intended to put that life behind him, at least for the time being—but no matter how far away he runs from the Vestra household, the memories attached to it will always be one step ahead of him. The smile on Hubert’s face manifests as a bittersweet acknowledgement of such nostalgia. 

What is this weakness he feels? It overtakes him as the blue-scarfed adolescence now drops all of the javelins, huffing out a groan of aggravation. That isn’t enough to topple his own conviction, however, as he bends down to scoop up the weapons once more. His honest grey eyes flash with an even more intense determination; it’s substantial, and a little larger than himself. 

No more of this, Hubert decides. He stands up, abandoning his cup of coffee, and approaches the boy. He absolutely towers over him, with the top of his snowy head hardly even reaching the middle of Hubert’s chest. Chewing back his own adoring grin is a mighty feat indeed, Hubert thinks as he looks at the unnamed student in his glimmering, ocean-deep eyes.

“Do you need help, young man?” Hubert offers, already bending down to pick up a few fallen weapons without even waiting for his answer.

Thin arms scream at the weight of not one, not twelve, but eleven javelins all balanced against his smaller-than-average body. They were taller than him, and when all added up, possibly even weighed more than him; either way, it was far too much for one little dragon to carry on his own! 

But mama didn’t raise no quitter, and even though his lungs begged for air and his arms cried for a break, Kana carried on—literally. Hugging the javelins against his chest, he trudges forward, making a slow journey from one end of the monastery all the way back to the training hall. 

It’s still such a long way away, and, geez, he really did need a break! With a huff, he drops the javelins to the ground, whining as he shakes out his arms—not realizing that he had company. Kana jumps a little at the sight of Edelgard’s shadow. His cheeks tint only slightly in embarrassment when he realizes that Hubert saw his amazing blunder. 

“Well, I mean, help would be nice,” he starts, gloved hands resting on his hips as he gazes down at the javelin pile in indignation. “But, see, I made this bet with Kiragi that may or may not have involved some throwing of javelins, but I lost, so now I gotta put ‘em all away on my own. And, boy, they’re way heavier than I thought!”

Kana wasn’t a weak kid—he could swing around a sword like it was nobody’s business, not to mention the added benefit of his dragon blood. But eleven javelins was too much. 

kiraumi​:

it’s really humbling to get yelled at by a kid. he’s not gonna lie. kiragi’s not entirely sure that his pride will ever really be able to recover from this. he’s an archer through and through. he’d never, repeat: ever miss a shot. he had the sharpest eyes in their whole army and he could stand toe to toe with the best of them. he thought at least that he could; though, the thought briefly occurs to him that maybe his dad had really been going easy on him this whole time and that he wasn’t actually as good as he thought he was.

( except that he was, he knows he was; he knew he could hold a bow before he knew that he was the second prince of hoshido’s son. )

“it was an accident! the wind!” he stammers out in apology as he rushes over, his bow abandoned to the ground. it’s easier than saying ‘ sorry, i panicked and was worried i’d shoot it through your head instead. ’ “look, okay; hold still. let me get a look at it!” kiragi removes kana’s hands from the arrow, but doesn’t immediately leap to attempting to pull the thing out. kana’d already tried and he only managed to tear a bigger hole in it. the easiest solution would be just to yank it out, but what if it made a bigger hole? cutting it, obviously, was also not a solution. that would have extra killed him, compared to a hole.

arrows—he snaps his fingers. “i’ve got it!”

when they were removing arrows from their soldiers, they had to break the shaft of it but keep the tip of it in to avoid letting them bleed out. it must’ve also made it easier to remove, right? the arrow splits in his hands with the force. “i’ll get ya outta there in no time, kana. watch this!” setting a foot on the trunk, he grips the splintering end of the arrow and tugs. and tugs! and tugs! and! “AH!”

he hits the ground, but holds up a thumb. “i got a splinter!”

The squeak piercing the air is nothing that would ever make a dragon proud, yet Kana squeaks all the same. Kiragi lands flat on his butt (kinda funny), but the teeny-tiniest smidgen of iron hits dragonling’s nose as he realizes his friend is hurt (kinda not funny). 

Kana holds his hand out to help the other back to his feet, scarf momentarily forgotten. “Aw, come on, let me see,” he says, already holding up Kiragi’s thumb to the sun to examine the tiny wound. “What’d ya think was gonna happen, breaking the arrow like that? This is why mama always scolds me for snapping sticks when I play with them!” Not like any splinters were getting through his gloves, though. 

First instinct makes Kana want to put Kiragi’s thumb in his mouth, and while he does start for it, he manages to find the will to stop before he can slather the poor boy’s wound in dragon spit. Instead, Kana pulls off one of his gloves to reveal his sharp claws, which he was supposed to file down the night before, but decidedly did not. Good thing, too, since now they could help! 

kiraumi​:

from the minute he’d said it, he knew it wasn’t a good idea. but honestly, kiragi should’ve known better than to mention something that was both fun and dangerous around kana. kana was a lot of things. a really sweet kid, super cheerful and helpful all around even if there were plenty of things that he couldn’t actually do on account of being little. ( not so little anymore, he’ll remind himself! kana’s thirteen now; technically, that made him a teenager! ) but, equipped with a healthy amount of self-preservation? nah. that wasn’t very much like him. then again, thinking about it now? maybe that’s just something that runs in the family.

he’d seen all of his aunts and uncles—but especially azura and corrin—do plenty of things that didn’t sound the most strategically sound or even, well.

physically sound, actually.

shiro could be pretty reckless too.

so, he should’ve said no. the smart thing to do as the older cousin in this situation—and as the archer in this situation—was to say no. but, c'mon; anyone who’s seen kana’s disappointed face could understand why he went along with it, right? they had to understand that there was no way that kiragi could’ve said no to someone who’s pout was so powerful that it once brought him to tears? those doe eyes were dangerous. but, you know what else was dangerous? an angry dragon mama coming to tear his throat out. still, kana believes so much in him and, in spite of his latest mess-ups, kiragi still was a pretty good shot!

( but pretty good wasn’t perfect now, was it? )

he slowly peeks from behind his fingers when kana suddenly calls out, archer collapsing to his hands and knees in relief. oh, thank the dragons. kana’s alive. he knew it! he knew it! he’d felt like the shot was wrong from the start because he’d been so nervous that it messed up his form right away. only once he’s able to get his heart under control did he haul himself up to his feet. “yeah; yeah! i know kana!” i’m just glad i didn’t miss fatally. making his way over to pull out the arrow, kiragi tucks his fingers around the shaft of it before hesitating at the last second.

“hey, uh. it’s pretty deep in there.”

didn’t he get this from his mom? aw, man. corrin really was going to kill him.

“Whaddya mean it’s pretty deep in there? Just yank it out! You’ve surely had to pull arrows from trees before, right?”

Face scrunches up in displeasure. Dragonling attempts to duck out, but resistance is met at his neck; a slightly harder pull frees him from his confines but leaves his scarf dangling limply against the tree, still pinned by the arrow. 

Kana stares at the spectacle, tracing over the tiny hole made in the fabric from the arrowhead, and then turns back to Kiragi, whose worried expression spoke a thousand words.

“So, lemme get this straight,” he starts slowly. “Not only did you fail to hit the apple,” which at this point has fallen uselessly off of Kana’s head and rolled onto the ground, “but you shot my special scarf, AND got your arrow stuck in the tree ALONG WITH my scarf?”

An exploratory tug accompanies a whine as little dragon tries to pull his scarf free, but all that does is make a teeny hole just a wee bit bigger. Instead, he tries for the arrow once more, but even with both hands wrapped around the base and one foot braced against the tree below, Kana could not pull it free. 

“You know I trust you, Kiragi!”

The game was simple. One player, in this case, Kana, puts an apple atop their head, and the other, Kiragi, shoots it off with an arrow. To keep things from getting out of hand—like a stray apple-arrow striking an unsuspecting student in the face—Kana stood with his back to a rather large tree, facing his cousin with a grin. 

“You’re the best hunter I know! If anyone can shoot straight, it’s you.” 

Yet the little huntsman appeared hesitant. Was it the worry of missing and possibly ending the little dragon’s short life? Probably. But there was no way that could happen. 

And so, as Kiragi nocked his arrow and lifted his bow to aim, Kana didn’t sweat it. Instead, he offers only a grin and a double thumbs-up. This was totally safe. 

But, gee, that arrow looks mighty close to his eye line as it fires! And coming ever near to his face...!!!

The arrow makes a satisfying thwap as it imbeds itself into the tree at Kana’s back. Little dragon blinks once, twice, before registering that the arrow did not, in fact, come into contact with the arrow atop his head, but instead sounded beside his head, closer to his ear. 

Right into the tie of the navy scarf tied at his neck. 

A gloved hand slowly raises to grip the arrow shaft behind him. At this angle, it was impossible to get a good hold of the arrow, and no matter how he tried, the little dragon couldn’t free himself.  

“Hey,” he starts, as if confused. “Hey, hey! You missed, Kira!” 

Finding his voice, Kana pouts, one foot pounding against the grass below. “You said you were gonna hit the apple, Kiragi!” 

carefreemonk​:

Your group manages to find one of the other missing students in town, but the rest won’t be so simple. The well-mannered ones took on jobs as housekeepers for the wealthiest families in town, relying on their salary and room and board to survive in this strange place. The rest who weren’t able to join them found themselves employed by the local factories, enduring backbreaking work and terrible fumes in order to feed themselves. Getting to them means infiltrating their line of work. Fortunately for you, a young baroness has made quite a name for herself in the city. Not only is she beautiful and wealthy, because her late husband owned many of the factories in the city, she is also exceedingly charitable. Perhaps to the point of foolhardiness, according to the gossips. Rumor has it that she will hire just about anyone, and a glimpse of her (and the striking birthmark on her left cheek) tells you that the rumors are at least two-thirds true. But that also means a job interview may be in your future…

“Oh, you are looking so very dapper, kiddo!”

Why is a child coming to a job interview with him?

It beggars belief, truly. Whatever. It’s not as though the monk can’t make do. With a grin, he gives Kana a definitely-not-super-condescending pat on the head and whirls on his heels. Coattails swish, and my oh my, he does feel like quite the gentleman - perhaps he can pull off some manner of miracle here yet.

Pausing in his steps, he turns around, nudges the little dragonling with his cane. Tips his hat. “Come along now, little Kanahara. We’ve business to attend to.”

Azama stoops a moment to straighten Kana’s bowtie. “There. Perfect.”

Except for the. The ears. The sharp teeth. The…

Well, the everything.

Azama straightens. Offers Kana his sunniest smile. “Do try not to make a royal mess of things, yes? Can you do that for me?” And then gives him a little pinch of the cheek, for good measure.

Quite shortly, their names are called. It’s go time.

[ for @dragon-kiddos ! ]

Everything was fine up until the point that Azama produced an apparent costume with a flourish. Kana was fine with dressing up—heck, it was one of his favorite things to do—but it was nowhere near as fun when the clothes weren’t tailored to fit him precisely and the fabric felt like cardboard. 

Nose wrinkles as little dragon wiggles out his arms for the umpteenth time. There was too much starch in the fabric, and the colors were dull and drab. Kana much preferred the sapphires or brilliant whites he’d be dressed in at home, or at the very least, the blacks and golds of the academy. A pout paints his face; this dragonling was not having fun. 

“I don’t feel dapper,” he huffs, gloved fingers toying with the edge of his vest. At the very least, he had been able to momentarily replace his thick leather gloves for soft silk ones (even though Azama gave him a look as he slid them on). Still, the texture was a little off...

Monk ruffles silver hair. There was naught to be done to tame it without a bucketful of hair gel, and with the two of them standing side-by-side, well—their wild ‘dos made quite the picture, didn’t they?

The only nice part about this get-up was the pocketwatch he’d been able to snag. Even hidden in his breast pocket, Kana could hear its soft tick tock tick at work. It gave him something to focus on other than the weird stiffness of his cuffs or the just-barely-too-tightness of his boots. 

He scowls at the “gesture of affection,” and more so at the condescending request. Kana may be young, and pretty dumb, but he isn’t stupid. Auntie’s retainer had always been kinda mean—it wasn’t something Kana particularly enjoyed. Still, he knew that it could be way worse; Azama could just refuse to tolerate him in any capacity, after all. So, little dragon responds: 

“I’ll do my best if you do yours!” 

They enter together, Azama a half-step ahead, with Kana only trailing due to being distracted by the itchiness of his dress shirt. The lady interviewing them certainly had a face one couldn’t forget—not to say she wasn’t pretty! She was very beautiful, Kana thought, but very unique-looking, too. That was probably a good thing. A lot of pretty people looked alike, after all, but not her. 

The lady addresses them kindly and with a smile, which Kana found a little weird, because he thought interviews were supposed to be scary. At least, that’s what he heard. Not that he’d ever interviewed for anything in his life, except for...

“What has led you to where you are today?”

A blink. And then another. Now, wait a darn minute... 

lualamina​:

A strange request, nay, a demand has come in for the school of Garreg Mach: a wealthy noble has apparently misplaced one of her pets, and she wants him back. He’s about six feet tall, hairy, orange, and has a face only a mother could love… according to her servant’s pleading description. Last she saw him, they’d been traveling near the Sealed Forest. Great! So all you have to do is track him down then and wait, hold up– is that a monkey? Why is it charging right for you? And why’s it wielding a sword?! … Oh, don’t forget, if you harm a hair on her pet’s head, she will have yours on a plate in return. [Grants Sword +1]

Starter for @dragon-kiddos

This would have been easier if he could slay it. That was what Jeritza found himself thinking, vaguely in a voice that wasn’t quite his own, as he stood before the unusual pet whose capture had been commissioned by some Imperial noble in the south. It was covered from head to toe in bright orange hair, and in one of its hands - the bald palms and fingers of which were too humanlike not to conjure thoughts of werebeasts - it grasped an impressive sword of polished silver. Some sort of ceremonial blade, perhaps, or a souvenir from a far-off land, still a virgin to the taste of blood, yet wielded as a tool of war all the same. The creature had some semblance of form - whether by the coincidence of ignorance or deliberately trained, it mattered not to the darkness that pressed eagerly against the bars of his heart. Kill it. Kill it. The voice echoed, not in his head, but somewhere deeper. Blood craving blood. Gloved fingers tightened around the hilt of the iron blade in his right hand but Jeritza would not relinquish the key to its prison, not while a student entrusted to his care remained by his side. It would be easier to kill it. To give in. But orders and circumstances forbid him from it.

The student was no longer the boy who had followed him into the forest though. Jeritza can’t remember when he changed, or why. The adrenaline of the hunt and the thrill of battle always stole his memories away in patches more infuriating than if they were wiped clean entirely. But he knew with an inexplicable certainty that the scaled monster that waited beside him was his charge for the time being, though he looked too much like the wild beasts that roamed Fódlan’s countryside to be a comforting ally. Twigs underfoot snapped through the silence as Jeritza moved back a few steps and shifted to keep both beasts in his line of sight. Otherwise, the forest was still and quiet.

“We have found it, so now we m—“

With a shriek, the orange ape leapt for a branch and long arms carried it swiftly up toward the canopy, sword now held by the toes of one foot. A groaning sigh rumbled from Jeritza’s throat as he watched it flee overhead, his own blade lowering to his side. It was armed and yet it still chose the craven’s path. Disappointing. He considered the trees for a moment, their target all but disappearing through the leaves, but decided to leave it to its escape for the time being. He turned to the transfigured student.

“If you are able to understand me, tell me of the powers you possess. They may prove… useful.”

Pet delivery boy was something Kana was quite excited to add to his ever-growing resume, right after dragon prince and aspiring flower crown salesman. Or maybe it should be pet delivery dragon, considering his current state of dress? Admittedly, it may have been a tad overboard to transform just to track down someone’s pet, but there was something about seeing a monkey wielding a sword that made his instincts kick in, and, BAM. Dragon time. 

The monkey, it seemed, was not fond of being suddenly faced by a now-much-larger foe. It flees skyward, blade glinting in the sunlight that filtered through the canopy. Kana could not help but feel disappointed, long neck bowing down to lower his head in a pout; this was going to be far more difficult than either of them expected, wasn’t it? 

Professor Jeritza, for not having seen Kana transform prior, reacted more calmly to the change than Kana had ever seen from anybody else. He turns towards him, and although he now has to look up instead of crane his neck down to maintain eye contact, professor addresses dragon without any pretense. 

“Well, I can see and smell and hear super good,” Kana starts. It was always weird talking like this—his voice echoed a little inside his head, like two or three Kanas were talking at the same time, and it was kind of disorienting.

“My claws and my horns are super strong, too. It’s a lot safer for me like this ‘cause my scales keep me protected, like armor. And I can fly! Oh, but... that won’t really help here.” In such a confined space, it was more likely for the little dragon to get stuck in a tree than traverse freely. 

What else could he do? It’d been a while since he had to explain his powers to another person. “Water gets a little funky around me and mama, and—oh! I can use Dragon Veins! There’s special times when people from my family can change the terrain, like making rivers dry up or make new paths.”