A cottage witch and her dragon 21

(You can read the rest of this original story on AO3 here)

It was a lovely, cool spring day in Rodgate, and Serenity had left the snoozing Dragon at home while she went to market.

More specifically, she had said "Dragon, get up. It's time to go!"

And was greeted by a very sleepy Dragon waving at her in a shooing motion. So she had left him to his own devices for the day. It wasn't the first time she had done this. When he was very young, he had stayed at home or with Granny whenever she went to market because he found the crowded marketplace too loud and overwhelming. But nowadays, sometimes he just didn't feel like getting out of bed, so Serenity left him to his own devices for the day.

On this particular day, though, Dragon was very bored. In fact, he was painfully bored. The market was infinitely more interesting than their tiny cottage. It really wasn't fair that the market started so early. Getting out of bed when it was cold was hard! People who wanted to get up early on cold days made no sense. Even Granny partook of this nonsense. Dragon couldn't understand it.

The hero has defeated you and you are being hauled off in chains. But this doesn’t matter, because you have already won and there is nothing the hero can do.

I was the greatest sorcerer in centuries. I know, because I've lived for centuries and none have surpassed me. Now I sit in chains covered in runes, my power suppressed and my "reign of madness" at an end. But I have won. And so I wait.

He doesn't come to see me for the first ten years, the great hero who defeated me. But when you have lived for over a thousand, this is no large sacrifice. He thought I was mad, but I simply have my own designs, which someone who has not lived for millennia could not understand.

The tenth year, he comes to see me. He looks the same as he did the day they locked me up in here. Not a grey hair on his head, though he should've had many by now. I smile wickedly at him.

"Have you realized?" I ask.

"What did you do to me?" He growls, grabbing onto the bars of my cell aggressively. "Why have I not aged since the day I stabbed you in the heart?"

"You will become like me." I smile at him, knowing my victory is complete. "You will not age. You will not die. Stabbing me in the heart was the catalyst. You will never grow old with the one you love. Everyone you ever love will die and you will not be able to follow. I have stolen the gift of death from you, and it will drive you mad, as it has driven me. We are alone in eternity, just you and I. You will come back to me, for no human can bear to be alone. Perhaps one day you will free me. Who knows."

He bangs on the bars of my cell, sending clanging sounds echoing through this desolate dungeon.

"I will never forgive you for this. I will never become like you." He spits the words, as if that statement gives our situation some finality, and walks away.

But I have won.

He will return. Perhaps he will never forgive me. But he will return. Humans cannot bear to be alone, and I am the only other one sharing in eternity. He will return

A Cottage Witch and her Dragon 18

(You can read the rest of this story on AO3 here)

It was Monday again, and Serenity was feeling a little blue about the endless weekly cycle of her life. Usually, this didn’t bother her. Living a simple life where not much changed besides her daily conversations with her neighbors was usually comforting. Perhaps she was blue about something else, and it was making living a simple life a bit difficult when usually it was a comfort.

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A Cottage Witch and Her Dragon 16

(you can find the rest of this story on A03 here)

Serenity woke up to the sound of heavy rain on her roof. She laid in bed for twenty minutes, enjoying the contrast of the cold air on her face with the warmth under the blankets. Dragon, who was sleeping on the other half of her full size bed, opened one eye to look at her lazily before settling back down. He was always sluggish on cold days.

After reveling in the warmth of her bed for a while, Serenity finally got up and made her way to the kitchen. The fireplace held only a bed of faintly glowing coals. Wind rushed by outside, making the rain outside her window fall at an angle. It was a proper storm today, it would seem.

enough feminist retellings where the princess saves herself from the dragon. we need more feminist retellings where the princess and the dragon are a con artist duo scamming the knights of the realm.

Rosamund sat at her table drinking her ale and eyeing the other patrons of the bar. It was hard for her to slip out of the palace on a good day, and today she had almost gotten caught. Being princess isn't all it's cracked up to be.

As she surveyed her surroundings, she noticed a man in the corner eyeing her just as she was eyeing him. He was shrouded in a long grey cloak, and his eyes almost glowed as he looked at her. How interesting. Rosamund got up and made her way over to his table.

"Drinking alone?" She raised her glass with a nod.

"Depends on whether or not you'll join me." A dashing smile.

"I think I will."

Several rounds later, Rosamund was significantly intoxicated, and her new best friend was animatedly responding to her complaints about her overbearing father and repressive society roles and the suffocating home she found herself in.

"I just want to run away!" The princess shouted.

"Well, why don't you?"

"What if I get murdered or something though? The outside world is unsafe," Rosamund responded, slurring her words.

"Listen, I know who you are."

Rosamund's eyes widened. "You do?!"

"I have an idea. Listen. I'm not just some passing stranger. Look."

He briefly pulled off his hood to reveal two small black horns peeping out from his curly hair and golden eyes that glowed in the firelight and gazed at her with slit pupils.

"Oh! You're a-"

He covered her mouth. "Not so loud."

"Dragon," she whispered.

"Yes, and I have an idea. What would you say about a vacation?"

"What do you have in mind," she asked, still slurring.

"What if I kidnap you, and demand a huge ransom, and you just hang out in my home for a while. I have a comfortable living space. I've had human roommates before so it would be all ready for you. And there's a town nearby I can take you to. I have a pact with the town. You'll be safe because I keep them safe. What do you think? Stick it to your dad and get a vacation out of it?"

"What if he sends knights after you?"

"I just put a sleeping spell on them and drop them off somewhere in the countryside. No knights will be hurt."

A smile slowly spread across Rosamund's face. "Okay, when will you come get me?"

It’s that typical story all over again: you are a princess. You get kidnapped, some random guy saves you, and then your father gets you married to him. No. Not this Time. You have watched a million versions of the same random guy beat a demon and become your husband even though you don’t love him, so this time, you kill the demon. You kill your father, the king. It doesn’t matter to you… After all, he’s only a program in the video game that is your life. 

You will stop at nothing to break this game.

Funnily enough, it’s not the kidnapping that breaks Phaedra. Oh, it’s terrifying every time–the sound of breaking glass in the dark of her bedroom, the feeling of vulnerability as blades tear into the curtain around her bed, the terror as she’s struck and thrown and tumbled over her assailant’s shoulder–but it’s not what keeps her shivering long past the story has ended. 

The attack always goes quickly. The demon screams past her guards and takes her in claws and wings and flees out the window. Her captivity sometimes goes quickly, sometimes takes a while longer, sometimes lasts forever. Sometimes the demon makes her cook and clean for him. Sometimes he tries to make her fall in love with him (as if this were that type of story). Sometimes he hurts her, badly, over and over and over again.

She’s no longer afraid of pain. She’s no longer afraid of mind tricks. She’s no longer afraid of him.

She hates being saved. She hates going home. And she’s always so afraid of the moment her father announces her hand belongs to her savior.

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A cottage witch and her dragon 14

(You can read the rest of this story on AO3 here)

“Drat,” said Serenity, staring at the ground where her favorite teacup lay in several pieces. “I just broke another teacup the other day. This is getting to be an expensive habit.”

Sighing, she grabbed the broom and swept up the remains of the teacup. It was a shame, really. The teacup had been so pretty, white porcelain with delicate violets painted on it. Serenity drank out of this teacup every day for several years.

As a skilled witch, Serenity could feel the connection between her and the teacup. The Great Soul of All Things, which witches drew their power from, was the web of energy that connects all things, animate and inanimate alike. Serenity had seen this web with clarity on the winter solstice, but even on an ordinary day she could feel her own connections to things, her place in the web of her own life.

A cottage witch and her dragon 13

(You can read the rest of this story here on AO3)

Just a warning this chapter gets a little intense in one spot. But don't worry, by the end, everyone is perfectly okay and no one is upset at anyone else. If you would like to read a chapter summary before committing to reading it, the end author's note on AO3 has a plot summary.

Francis Draflow’s Field Guide to Dragon Familiars, section 2 “Dragon development,” page 56

“Dragon familiars are very powerful beings, but the process of putting a dragon spirit into a spirit egg does come with unfortunate risks. One such risk is the possibility that the dragon’s wings will grow in improperly. In some cases, no wings grow at all. This is unfortunate. However, being that the primary mode of dragon flight is not the physical wings, seeing as wings would have to be unmanageably large to lift even a small dragon through the process of aerodynamics, no, instead the principle means of lift and propulsion is, in fact, magic. Therefore, a dragon does not technically need wings to fly. In some cases wingless dragons can fly on their own without prosthetics. In other cases, especially cases where the wings have grown in but not fully, prosthetic wings can be given to the familiar to trigger their flight instincts.”