oh, more of the Hobbit au! Do you think dragons can get sick, with like colds or the flu or something? Do they just burn it out by heating up a lot? How would H deal with that?
Newt wakes up feeling oddly chilly; he rolls over to find Hermann under the sheets and cuddle up and- he’s cold. His still, and cold, and unmoving under the sheets.
Newt isn’t really too sure what happened after that- quite a lot of screaming, and the world kinda blurred out with the hideous awful that’s just swallowed his world, but when it finally starts filtering back in, Hermann is holding him firmly to his chest, his whole body rigid.
“…Hermann…” Newt says in a tiny voice.
“Thank the gods.” Hermann grits out. “I can’t hang on much longer.”
Newt looks up, face damp with tears and frozen in horror. “What’s happening?”
“No time-” Hermann rears up and stumbles towards the door. He’s wavering, stumbling over his own feet, claws scrabbling and tearing at the door to get out.
Newt manages to get the handle and Hermann staggers out, turning his eyes blindly and- his scales are pale, almost orange, his eyes dim. “Hermann-”
“Not yet!” His voice is stiff, furious. He crawls up on all fours, to the top of the hill, looks around, and sighs. “I’m sorry for anything that falls in.” And suddenly explodes into full size.
His tail catches Newt across the belly and sends him into a small strand of trees. Newt untangles himself and hurries over where Hermann has sunk to the ground and moans softly.
“Are you okay?” Newt rushes over. “You’re not dying, please please don’t be-”
“I am not dying.” Hermann opens an exhausted eye. “I am, however, suffering what you might call a cold.”
“Oh.” Newt almost sags with relief. “You were so cold, I thought-” he breaks off, swallows.
Hermann sighs, and tucks Newt in against his head. “I am sorry for scaring you. My fire has just- gone down a little. It will be back soon, but until then.” he pulls a face, “And I have very little magical control.”
“Can I get you anything?” Newt says eagerly. “My uncle swore by honey and lemon drinks, I could try and scale one up.”
Hermann opens one eye, “And how many hive and bushels will you need for that?”
“We can try.” Newt says firmly. “People like you, they can give up a few preserves and honey.”
Hermann looks at him, then sighs. “I feel so awful I’m quite willing to try-” he stops, shivers, then his rears his head up in a staggering sneeze.
It’s just as well he doesn’t have any fire, or half the Shire would be ablaze. “I’m gonna find the honey and lemon.” Newt says firmly.
