Dragons and Dragonlings -- ShigDabi Fantasy AU

[LovelyBones]

Dabi knew deep down that he'd be caught eventually, knew that he'd get careless, let his guard down.

But he hadn't thought he'd be caught so soon, and so quickly at that. The kingdom he had been terrorizing for years was easy, perfect to take out his anger upon and restock should he ever need to, and the cherry on top was the fact it was weak, yet terribly crucial to his scumbag father, who had ruled tyrannically for years, and treated his own flesh and blood in kind, if not more cruelly. It's a wonder how his youngest brother hadn't turned on the bastard too. Maybe Enji had learned from his eldest, found some way to keep the poor prince under his thumb. Maybe that same thumb knew it was Dabi attacking the small kingdom, and didn't hesitate to send experts out to subdue him.

Regardless, as far as the massive, gorgeous yet scarred dragon knew, there would be no mercy, no pardon from his dear father. He doubted his siblings knew he was a dragon in the first place-- the product of a witch the king had on the side, forced the queen to claim as her own. It was woefully easy, too, considering the bastard hid the queen away until it was convenient for him to show her off. He wondered how she was, where she was now. He wondered if his siblings missed him, wondered if they believed the lie that he had fled, and been killed in some morbid manner, just for being the son of that fiend.

It was dark today-- a storm coming from the south, surely to extinguish his flames in a metaphorical sense long after he'd be executed for his crimes. The dwarven metal that shackled him, kept him in an uncomfortable position so that he would have no hope of escape, weighed heavy on his now weakened body. He'd been starved for three days now, and he was so, so thirsty. His back felt sun baked, the leather of his wings feeling numb, stiff and dry. Even his poor tail felt nonexistent, at least until some sadist would come by and stab him with a blade sharp enough to actually pierce his hard hide.

He's long ignored any badgering from his captors, denied them the pleasure of knowing he was dying slowly, all because they had managed to catch him. His only comfort the past few nights were the beautiful sunsets, and seeing the lovely stars shine for him, as if calling him home, promising him peace once he was freed of this life, to move onto the next. But.... even so, as most any beast, he feared death, feared the pain that would surely lead up to his passing, be it by blade, or neglect. He was tired, so much so that even spite wasn't enough to give him any hope of escaping on his own. At least he was free, was able to fly for six years without a care in the world, unchallenged.

Today was cold-- or, maybe the chill of death was setting in as a crowd formed around him, eager to see his death. Men sharpened their blades, wanting to ensure they would get the job done, end his reign of terror for good. Their lives must be terribly boring if an execution was exciting to them all. Either that, or their brains and hearts are absolutely rotten, taking pleasure in seeing death. A roll of thunder echoed off the nearby mountains, and he let out a long sigh. He used to hate the rain, how cold it was, how lonely it felt. He hated a lot of things, really, but.... today, it felt different. The scent was calming, welcoming, and the clouds blocked the harsh sunlight that had burned his spine, left his leather raw where it was exposed. It reminded him of his adopted mother, who had been kind, her cool hands a relief on his tear-stained cheeks, a soothing touch when he'd have nightmares, or struggled with who he really was. Maybe he'll see her again one day.... would she recognize him, under his scars?

[Final]

As the boorish crowd gathered to watch the execution of their beast of a tormenter, the heavens opened up and poured upon the disgruntled populace a cold, chilling deluge. The weather didn’t seem to perturb many of them, hard angry faces ready for their revenge, and the profit to come. Dragonhide sold for a good bit of coin… Even the scarred hide of a beast like this would fetch a pretty coin or two. The meat and bones were just as precious, the most delicate meals and strongest armors oft made of such.

Why, this slaying was almost a cause for celebration for this dingy, dirty little Kingdom. They’d be fed and have things to trade for months if allowed to claim this carcass.

Too bad it wasn’t going to happen.

Figures on horseback approached from the west, quickly coming into view of the gathered townsfolk. It was a small group, though their banner struck paralyzing fear into the citizens as it neared into visibility. The banner itself was sable, darker than the deepest night. Emblazoned upon it was a sanguine gauntlet, crushing a skull in the same blood-red hue. The meaning relayed by the symbols was quite clear- this was a conqueror, merciless, and with no fear of death.

This was the banner of Tomura Shigaraki, the Prince of Destruction who would raze all that stood before him.

He hailed from the land to the bitter, frozen north ruled by his adoptive father- the self-proclaimed Demon King of this world. At the age of twenty, his conquest had begun, both to spread fear in their family name, and to sake his own personal thirst for obliteration. His aim was to destroy, pure and simple. To eradicate the feudal systems that tainted the land, and leave the shattered remnants under the control of his King and Master.

The crusade of The Demon King’s disciple had thrown the order of the world on its head, and the would-be King relished it.

The lead mare was as white as fresh snow, the light pink of its nose speckled with grey. The beast was broad and muscular, a steed meant for war, not for the plow or to ferry nobility. As if to further reiterate that point, the animal’s flanks and legs carried well-healed scars from conflicts prior. The bridle and saddle were dyed in the same black as the banner, well-oiled and of impeccable quality. The animal was also fitted with armor, the polished sheen of steel interlaced with scratches from swords and pikes that had sought to claim the steed’s life, and failed. Rubies were set into the helmet and breastplate, shining a deep sanguine red.

The rider’s own visage was just as chilling as that of the great warhorse, if not more so. The armor the rider wore was entirely made of bone… Dragon Bone, to be precise. Each plate was the sun-bleached white of a skeleton left out in the fields too long, and tougher than any material a blacksmith could procure. Wearing such a thing was almost inviting someone to try and attack, try and penetrate their defenses. The armor was jagged in places, using the natural spines and points of the skeleton it was made from to enhance its intimidating stature. Spikes of bone jutted from the shoulder plates, framing a helmet that covered the whole of the wearer’s head. The faceplate was stylized bone as well, looking much like the skull of the dragon it had no doubt been carved from. An impressive set of horns rose fluidly from the faceplate, curling around and behind the helmet in a frankly elegant manner. Between the armored plates of bone was reinforced by dragon hide, the ebony scales a stark contrast against deathly white.

The crowd parted fearfully as the figure on horseback moved forward while the rest of the entourage stayed behind. The mare’s pace was nonchalant as it approached the bound dragon, while the crowd looked on- some in confusion, and some in terror.

The horse finally came to a stop only a few steps before the bound dragon, snorting and nickering softly. It was there that the bone-clad figure dismounted, closing the distance between himself and the shackled dragon as his red cloak drug along the ground behind him.

“So you’re the one that’s been causing so much noise… Finally went and got yourself caught, huh?”

The voice was somewhat muffled by the helmet, but that didn’t obscure its raspy nature. With his face hidden it was impossible to be sure of where he was looking. Slight movements of the helmet suggested he was taking in the shackles restraining the beast, and the very state of the creature before him, however.

Tomura had caught wind of a destructive dragon being captured only a few days ago. The news was… Interesting for a variety of reasons, so the Prince had split off from his army with a small war party of his closest followers in search of the supposed prisoner. Upon finding him, well. It seemed the dragon had been tortured and left out to suffer for days. He wasn’t in the best shape, but, when had any of them been in good shape, before joining the Demon King’s cause?

Gauntleted hands rose slowly, removing the dragon bone helmet. Messy light-blue hair poured out, reaching Tomura’s shoulders and obscuring a good amount of his face, sticking to his skin as the rain began soaking through it. His hair wasn’t enough to hide those bright red eyes, though, or the scarring around them. Under his neck sprawled similar scars, their self-inflicted nature readily apparent. A larger scar passed through the left side of his dry lips and a similar one did the same for his right eye. Dark circles were gathered under those tired sockets, indicative of too little sleep of dubious quality.

Those red eyes looked over the muzzle holding the dragon’s jaw still before placing a gauntleted hand on the dwarven restraints. It was impressive metalwork be strong enough to hold a dragon. It would be impossible to remove without the keys to the various locks… By normal means, anyway.

“Seems like such a shame… I know!” A wide grin spread across the Prince’s lips, chapped skin breaking. “How about you come and work for me, instead of being slaughtered by the hands of a bunch of filthy heretics?” The man offered, tilting his head slightly, a manic gleam in those narrow eyes. “Be my bodyguard… You’ll be fed, given shelter… Oh, and you’ll live.” He held his hands out to his sides, palms up, a soft grinding sounding as the bone plates slid past each other.

“What do you say?”

[LovelyBones]

Dabi took relief as the rain began to cool his aching scales and exposed skin, shuddering faintly as he was slowly drenched from snout to tail tip. It cooled his burns, and the sound somehow drowned out the murmuring crowd despite how soft it was. However, when the crowd became fearful, parting for what seemed to be a grim figure, the dragon opened his eyes, only for them to grow wide, and, admittedly, apprehensive. What was the Prince of Destruction doing in some weak little kingdom? Was he here to claim his body for himself? The dragon wasn't sure, and wasn't about to ask.

He's heard the rumors about how he'd kill without warning, sometimes when someone would speak out of turn. And, when he did, it was.... gruesome, really. People crumbling into a fine, dusty ash, and the poor souls felt every second until either shock took them, or they fell apart in seconds, crying out in agony if they had the time to. That wasn't a fair way to die, not one bit.

So, when the bone-armored young man strode over to him, touched the dwarven metal trapping his muzzle, he flinched ever so faintly. He wasn't stupid-- and there was the fact the bastard wore dragon bones for a majority of his armor!! Though, he did huff ever so faintly at how the other seemed to mock him. He hadn't been expecting his father to send professionals after him. But, he didn't glare-- he was too tired to care to.

However, when the other revealed his face, for the most part, and made him an offer, his eyes grew wide, brows furrowing with suspicion. Why him? Wasn't this bastard strong enough as is, while also having his own damn army of monstrous followers? But.... really, it was an offer he could really refuse, could he? With a long, pregnant pause, he sighed, before chuffing faintly. "Deal.... just know that if you want me to be able to travel, I'll have to shift, but that'll sap the rest of my strength and I'll be dead weight for a good few hours. Bastards starved and parched me." He stuffed, his large voice double-teamed, his true voice an octave higher, more natural for a young man than the deep baritone his scalier form provided.

[Final]

The Prince grinned, lips pulling wide enough to be unsettling. Every grin he made seemed to be in mockery of the happiness associated with the expression- as if he was attempting to smile without ever having to experience the corresponding emotions. “Fine.” Horned helmet cradled under one arm, the pale man removed one of his dragon bone gauntlets, then the gloves underneath. Bared hands reached out once more, caressing the metal almost gently as five pale fingertips came into contact with it. There was a sudden release of the metal’s tension, hairline cracks spiderwebbing outward from the five points of contact. In less than a second, the cracks had become so numerous and far-reaching that what was left of the muzzle crumbled to a fine powder. The downpour quickly washed it away, the puddles near the dragon’s great head sparkling with the metallic dust for a few moments.

That was what snapped the surrounding mob out of their stupor. Many of the citizens turned to run, while the few professional hunters that had stayed to carry out the execution drew their weapons. Pikes and crossbows made up the majority of the weapons; things that could stab and would without necessarily having to get too close. They didn’t seem terribly sure whether they should be aiming at the newly-freed dragon or the unarmed man, however, many a crossbow sight swinging back and forth between the two. The Prince himself wasn’t terribly phased, even though his particular skill set and abilities were more suited for close-quarters combat.

“Seems our friends here aren’t too keen on letting us walk away.” The pale man chuckled, his hair a bit darkened with the rain, wet waves clinging to his neck and face. “Looks like we don’t get to rest quite yet…” Red eyes looked away from the advancing crowd and back at the dragon’s own searing blue orbs. “These hunters did capture and starve you, didn’t they? They should make up for that.” Tomura smiled once more, bared hand brushing some of his wet mane out of his eyes, before boldly stepping into the dragon’s space. Five fingers brushed the shackle secured around one of Dabi’s front legs, and it soon turned to dust just as the muzzle had. As the scarred man moved to the next one, a crossbow bolt whistled through the air and shattered against the back of the Prince’s pauldron. The helmet went back on with an annoyed grunt, Tomura hauling himself up onto the dragon to do away with the rest of the chains and bindings that were keeping him immobile, at least managing some effort to not walk on the worst of Dabi’s wounds.

[LovelyBones]

Dabi naturally flinched as the prince reached out with bare hands to touch his muzzle-- he knew how dangerous this man way-- however, when the muzzle crumbled off of his maw and washed away, he blinked in shock, before slowly opening and closing his sore jaw. The first thing he did after was stick his long, forked tongue out to catch whatever moisture he could, the poor beast was so thirsty. He didn't pay any mind to the fleeing commoners, nor the hunters raising their weapons in the pair's direction. There was panic-- they would miss, especially when they were obviously struggling to pick a target, himself or the Prince of Destruction. It was pathetic, really.

However, as the prince spoke again, he focused on him as he made his suggestion, before sliding that massive tongue back into his maw. It was enough for his mouth to no longer be dry and sticky. He was mostly unbothered by the other traversing his large body to free him even as bolts began to fly past the prince. Once enough of those shackles were destroyed, he shakily brought himself to stand, revealing just how thin he had gotten. Even his scaly skin was loose and peaked in places from the dehydration-- the next clean lake he'd find, he might be tempted to drink half of its depths away. But for now, he trained a burning glare at those men that had cause him harm, and a deep, unnerving smile curled his scaly lips, all the way to where his mandibles connected to his cheekbones. With a single, long breath, head low to protect his scaleless underbelly, he brought in enough fuel for his flames, before he breathed out a solid column of blue flames, the intensity being felt even through the flesh on his back where Tomura was surely viewing the carnage from.

Dabi was a monster that should have been killed when those fools had a chance.

Bodies crumpling from the shock, the dragon snapped them up after tossing their weapons aside with a flick of his claw-- he's had a sword stuck between his teeth once because he was so hasty, and he didn't want that toothache again, or worse. It wasn't enough to fill him proper, but it helped curb the bite of hunger in his belly. He tried to take a few steps towards the village the citizens had ran towards, oy to stumble and fall, cursing softly. He was too weak to continue like this, unfortunately.

"Get off so I can change, and we can get the hell out of here.... I'm so tired...." he groaned, his eyelids heavy with exhaustion. Pathetic, really. Such a great beast, reduced to this. Pity.

[Final]

Those flames…

Waves of heat washed over Tomura as he watched his new bodyguard in action, the Prince not once looking away. Garnet eyes were locked on that pillar of blue flames, the heat and strength of it making something inside him shudder pleasantly, and the things strapped down to his back ache.

So this was true dragon fire.

Master had shown him once, long ago, a flask of dragon flame that he’d taken from the dragon whose bones now made up his armor. It had been soft, a light yellow that made something familiar flicker in the young Prince’s chest. It had called to him, soft a sweet, like a memory of someone he couldn’t quite remember. He’d reached for it instinctively, but Master had moved it away before his finger could touch the glass.

”Now now Tomura… This isn’t something to be played with. Dragonfire is deadly, even with your heritage.”

Even at that young age, he’d kept them strapped down to his back, tried to hide away the deformity upon his back… Master had been so kind, showing him how to hide them away, teaching him to ignore and banish away the less than human parts of himself.

Master didn’t hold it against him, still taking him in even with his blood. He’d adopted him, raised him as his successor, and given him all resources and allies he could have ever needed, all while showing Tomura how corrupt the world really was, how it needed a guiding hand.

Tomura had thought he was past dealing with those parts of him but now, with Dabi’s dragon fire lighting up the battlefield, something buried deep within the thorns of his chest was trying to claw its way out. It made his head hurt, made nausea roll in his stomach, and his strapped down wings shift painfully-

A stray crossbow shattered hit his helmet, pulling the Prince out of his thoughts and back to the battle.

Or, actually... Massacre, fit the scene before him better, as Dabi made a quick snack of the unlucky hunters.

It would have been more majestic if the great lumbering beast hadn’t then fallen down in his pursuit of the villagers. The Prince couldn’t help a derisive snort, hopping down off the great beast’s back- oddly nimble for one in such bulky armor.

“Fine, fine… We can always come back and finish the job later.” He chuckled, slipping on his gloves and gauntlet before patting the dragon’s burnt and scarred hide. “Maybe after you’re less… Weak.”

With a whistle, the Prince’s mare came trotting over, having run off to a safe distance when the fighting had begun. The horse snorted once, pawing the ground in the presence of the dragon.

“You’ll have to ride with me… Don’t worry, I’ll keep you from falling off.” Snarked the man, hopping back up into the saddle, making room for the other in front of him. “After all of this, it would be a real shame if a concussion was what finally took you out.”

[LovelyBones]

The dragon had heard that snort even with the blue flames crackling, devouring the trees it had touched, unbothered by the rain above. Dabi was a true threat-- his flame went unbothered by the natural rains gracing the land they stood upon. If he so chose, he could cremate whole village-- cities if he was inclined. However, each beast had their limits-- and it rubbed his scales the wrong way how the Prince found his sorry state amusing.

If not for spite, he would have been useless, even when freed of his Bonds.

"When I am well again, and stronger than before." D
Ability rumbled out, a glowering sapphire eye watching Tomura call over his steed, and began channeling his magic once the mare was near. "If I survive being dropped by you, a concussion will be the least of your worries." He hissed, smoke leaving his maw before it moved and coiled about his frail form, only to begin to shrink to the size of a man. Mind you, once Dabi had shifted, it was apparent the man did not seem it necessary to wear charmed clothes to provide him modesty. He was tall, and even as he was almost skin and bone, there was definition where muscle used to be plush, inviting to the touch. With a good few meals and plenty of drink, he'll be back to his striking self once more.

Fir the time being, however, he dragged himself onto the horse in front of Shimura, and resting his weight into the Prince for a bit of security. "Don't forget, I'm useless to you if you damage me beyond repair...." he laughed dryly, before closing his eyes, and letting out one last breath and falling unconscious.

[Final]

“Yeah… We’ll have you back to your old self- or an even better version of yourself anyway- in no time-”

It was quite lucky that Tomura had seen fit to put his helmet back on, lest the dragon saw how his garnet eyes raked over Dabi’s nude form, or the slight color the sight left upon his cheekbones.

“-At...at all.

The Prince, while being as strong, malevolent, and confident as he was... hadn’t seen nude men all that often. Especially nude men that were so comfortable with themselves. He would have never been able to stand there so openly, for a myriad of reasons. But, anyway, seeing someone naked shouldn’t be that big of a deal. It was a natural form, there was nothing… exciting about-

The flickering light of Dabi’s dragon fire cast its light over the ruined plaza and the two of them, tinting everything in a blue glow. Tomura couldn’t look away from the rain-soaked form before him, though the overcast sky and dragon-bone helmet did help to hide the exact location of his gaze from view. Dabi was skinny, yes. Skinny, malnourished, and honestly pretty ragged… But even so, he could feel the power and heat laying dormant within the dragon, the determination behind those blue eyes, and an answering heat building up inside himself that he was very much trying to ignore.

Was it because this man was a dragon and his own dragon heritage? Were Dabi’s flames and form calling out to a shameful part of him that he’d long ago tried to decay away? Tomura tore his attention away once he was on his mare, pointedly looking at anything else but that man.

Which only became that much harder when Dabi climbed up onto the horse as well to lean back against Shigaraki like he was his favorite pillow. His armor luckily blocked most of the sensation from reaching the stunned Prince, though the sight alone was quite distracting.

“... I have no intention of breaking my new toy just yet.” He snapped, finally able to break out of the weird headspace being near the dragon had put him in. The mare took up a trot at the direction of her rider, back to the other two that had accompanied him on this little errand, not even greeting them as he approached

“Give me your banner.” He demanded of the rider carrying the banner that bore his insignia, a gauntleted hand outstretched, waiting to be obeyed.

“Huh? Why?”

Damn it Iguchi.

“Tomuuuu how did it go? It looked like you had fun! Ooh, is this him?” The other rider had sidled up, removing her helmet as the overcast sky offered less danger than it normally would. “He’s in pretty bad shape, isn’t he? You sure we can use him Tomu?” There was a flash of steel, unmistakably Toga drawing her knives.

“Put those away, there isn’t even enough blood in him for a snack.” He hissed at the blonde, who pouted. “Now give me the banner, Iguchi!”

The lizardman shrugged, pulling it off the pole and handing it over. Tomura quickly used the cloth to cover up the dragon’s shame- not that he seemed to have anything to be ashamed about… what, no, fuck, shut up! A quick glance to Toga, and it was pretty evident the vampire had caught the stutter in his pulse anyway, her fanged grin wide and unsettling.

“Tomu~~~”

“Don’t. Don’t. Just shut up, and let’s get back to the others.”

He didn’t wait for them to agree, his mare taking off at a gallop back in the direction they’d first appeared from, to join up with the rest of the Prince of Decay’s Army of abominations and monsters.

-----

Dabi had been set up in a tent beside Tomura’s, seeing as he was his new bodyguard and all. It had been fairly well furnished as well, with a table, a couple of chairs, a chest of clothes, and a cot where the dragon had been deposited upon arrival and then left to rest on his own. There were a few lanterns here and there, which illuminated the space in a soft, flickering glow now that the last dregs of sunlight had dipped away beyond the horizon.

In a sudden rush of movement, the tent’s flapped opened, and the scent of blood wafted into the space as several corpses shambled in carrying trays of raw meat, Tomura stepping in among them. He hadn’t been sure whether he should cook the meat or not, but in the end had figured that if Dabi wanted it cooked, he could do it himself.

Never mind the craving that Tomura occasionally got for such fresh meat… Those impulses were only worth being suppressed.

“I figured the sooner we got some meat on you, the sooner you’ll be useful.” He said offhandedly, messing with a small pouch at his hip. It was full of rubies and sapphires, given to him by that damned vampire to ‘help Dabi feel welcomed!’ He didn’t know why he put up with her… In a past life, she had to have been some sort of love-sick teenager. Or a murderer.

Probably both.

Not that Tomura even knew the significance of a dragon or one bearing dragon blood giving another jewels… He hadn’t been taught anything about that part of his heritage, in fact, it had been rather forcefully shut away from him.

[LovelyBones]

Luckily for the prince, Dabi was oblivious to the conversation, the implications that he had unintentionally caused by making himself comfortable as he had. Really, the vampire was getting ahead of herself-- and, surely, that will more than likely tempt him to burn her worse than the sun's rays ever will. After all, he does not enjoy being made a fool of-- to think he had the energy to play around at the moment would be almost insulting. After all, his new 'master'had literally walked over him and mocked him for something out of his control!

But, for now, the dragon rested as best he could, given his current state.

However, when he finally did wake, it was to the rude opening of his tent, as well as the shambling of rotting corpses bearing fresher meat upon platters. The ravenette let out a low, long growl louder and deeper than his chest should have made as he slowly raised himself into a seated position, his eyes bearing exhausted malice and annoyance. "While that may be true...." rasped a voice thick with sleep, "I would have preferred to call for my meal once I was properly rested. But here we are." He tsked, before shooting glares at the barely stable corpses bearing his meal, before an expression of disgust landed on his features. "Have them.... set the food on the table. I'll eat it when their stench is gone." He grumbled, before nonchalantly standing, letting the blanket that covered him drape halfway off of the bed, baring his naked form once more.

The man bore many deep scars, be it from piercing weapons or seemingly hotter fires than he himself was able to produce. Notably, however, the scarring from his lower jaw and past his navel eerily matched the amount of protective scales his true form bore, which was none. One would wonder how that came about, and who was so daring to even try such a cruel thing. Though, one thing was certain: the man was no less dangerous, with or without those scales.

However, hearing the clinking gems had him focusing upon the source in an almost embarrassing fashion-- his eyes even dilated, for only a moment. He shook his head, before stretching his body, a series of pops and snaps echoing from his sore joints. "Is there a spring nearby that I can wash up in? And some drinking water or mead would be ideal-- that rain only wet my mouth for so long." He soon looked to Tomura, sapphire eyes almost peering g into the other's being, as if trying to read him. "Would be a shame if I dropped dead from thirst."

[Final]

Tomura had hoped- as much as he could hope- that the shiver down his spine was well-hidden by his armor. He’d hoped that some time away from Dabi would help calm and subdue the unwanted reactions he’d been dealing with, but Dabi's rumbling growl betrayed this dragon’s inherent strength. The sound made something in his abdomen twitch with interest.

It seemed luck wasn't on his side.

Tomura rolled garnet-red eyes, ordering the corpses away once they had set down the platters of meat. He’d long since become accustomed to the stench of shambling corpses… They were infantry provided by his Master, mangled and enchanted carcasses that could fight tirelessly and unleash forbidden power on those that challenged them. The ones shambling out were some of the lowest quality bodies, barely fit for manual labor or cannon fodder.

No, it was the high-quality corpses that were truly feared, the ones that stood whole heads and feet taller than any man, carrying mixes of powerful and volatile spells. Those corpses were the very pride of Master’s trusted necromancer… But they took time and resources to make, so their numbers were very few. They typically stood as the Demon King’s bodyguards, kept away from the battlefield unless entirely necessary.

Those were the last thing on Tomura’s mind, though, as the blanket fell away and once more bestowed upon his eyes the full glory of the dragon in front of him. Quickly, the Prince looked away, but only after seeing enough to leave a pink dusting at his cheeks.

“I brought clothes. Make use of them.” He commanded tersely, pointing out the chest he'd had carried into the tent while the dragon was unconscious. “You can’t go around like… That in a war camp. It’s distracting.”

Distracting was certainly a word for it. He’d noticed a good amount in that quick glance, noticing the missing belly scales and scars. He certainly knew a thing or two about scars himself, but the scales were an issue. Their loss left Dabi vulnerable, and vulnerability was undesirable in a bodyguard. Perhaps he could have some sort of armor made? He’d have to talk with their army’s outfitter, though Giran was pretty reliable when it came to finding something he needed, no matter how odd it was.

Once more the Prince found his eyes rolling, tossing his own waterskin over to the whiny lizard, along with the pouch of gems. He’d saw how Dabi reacted to them… It reminded him of the shiny stones he’d collected and hidden in his bed as a child, before Master found them and took them away. Master had been very clear, telling him how reprehensible it was, how disgusting it was to give in to such base instincts.

The Prince had never picked up a shiny stone since then.

“There. Sate your unbearable thirst.” He sneered, pointedly not looking at the other. “And… A gift, I guess, to welcome you to my little army of monsters... There's a spring nearby, I'll have one of the corpses show you the way after you eat.: