Gazing up, twilight shrouds the skies and the fires below grew brighter. As the sound of laughter dies down and the guard who is watching you falls asleep in his chair. You shake off the tingling sensation in your fingertips before tightly closing both of your hands into a fist, channeling all your energy into your magic. As you exhale, a freezing breath escapes your mouth, while your cuffs freeze into an icicle. With careful movements, you feel the ice beneath you giving way, and you muster enough strength to break free from your restraints. You did the same for the collar around your neck, tearing it off your body like a tight corset. Now for the cage. Holding a metal bar in each hand, heat boils through your palms until the iron bar burned a bright red.

Cautiously pushing the two apart, you created an opening for yourself, slipping out of the cage undetected. Picking up your guard's spear sitting against your cage, you wrapped your hand around the wooden staff and stood in a fighting stance. Tapping the end of the stave against the man's arm startled him from his slumber and turn towards you. That's when you whacked him unconscious, his body falling face first into the ground.

Kneeling beside the fallen poacher, you looted the body, stealing his keys from his belt and the sword he kept at his side. Then your eyes travel down his body and stop at his buckled boots. You raised your brows. 'he has small feet for a man.'

Once you had nicked the man's boots, you stealthily made your way around the camp, ensuring you stayed hidden from view. You skillfully maneuvered into several tents scattered throughout the camp and managed to slip out unnoticed mere moments later. This continued, counting up all the tents until the last. Sneaking around the back, you quietly pulled up a side and slipped into the tent, your senses immediately assaulted by the sight of a sleeping whelpling chained to a post.

The whelpling, with its silver scales and small white horns, was as big as an elephant. It sat alone, no one watching as it catches a whiff of your scent. The creature's eyes, a piercing bright yellow, suddenly opened when it noticed your presence. A deep growl resonated from its throat as it slowly stood up, revealing teeth that were as menacing as those of a wild wolf. With a loud thud, your sword and keys hits the floor, causing the guard's keys to jingle like a rattle.

"Calm." Raising your hands, you recited the words Bakugou taught you in his language.

"To calm a dragon, you must be willing to face death head-on in order to gain its trust." Bakugou showed no fear, no hostility towards the beast towering over him and in his tongue, he orders Kirishima to bow before him. Kirishima obeys the command instantly, bowing his head towards the blonde. With his hands, Bakugou motions Kirishima to roll onto his back so Bakugou could scratch his underbelly. "Whelplings won't be easy since they're babies, but if you-"

Touching Kirishima on his jaw, you look over Bakugou, smiling as the dragon purrs from your touch. "Let me guess...give them affection."

"Calm," you spoke, stepping closer towards the baby, your voice sounding like a warm embrace. The dragon's growls ceased, listening to your soothing voice, and once your skin carefully grazed its scales, it leans into your touch. Running your hands along its back, you feel the texture of its scales.

"Your scales feel rough...you must be an iron dragon?" You guessed, petting the baby whilst it purrs. Your gaze fixed on the restraints holding the creature down. A surge of pity filled your heart, compelling you to reach out and contact the collar, resulting in an immediate reaction as the creature bucked in surprise. With a quick movement, you retract your hand, only to hear it growl again, prompting you to silence it. "Calm,"

As you approached, the dragon let out a gentle whine, as if granting permission to touch its snout. At that very moment, its belly made a grumbling sound.

"You poor thing, you must be starving," you whispered, petting the dragon, earning another pur.

"Did you hear that?"

You watch as the two men, dressed in rugged explorer attire, glance around the tent with a mixture of confusion and curiosity. They seem to be discussing something in hushed tones, their voices barely audible over the rustling of the tent fabric. One of them, a tall man with a scruffy beard, takes a step closer to the dragon's empty chain, his eyes widening in disbelief. The other man, slightly shorter and more cautious in his movements, scans the tent with a furrowed brow. Their expressions change from confusion to realisation as they notice the severed chain lying on the ground. A mixture of shock and awe washes over their faces, and they exchange a quick glance before turning their attention to the now-awakened whelpling. The dragon, sensing their presence, let out a low growl, its silver scales shimmering in the faint light filtering through the tent. You can't help but feel a sense of satisfaction as you witness the men's confusion, knowing that you have just set their prisoner free from captivity.

"Who let it loose?!" One of them screamed, stepping back towards the tent entrances.

'Snack time,' you said to yourself, watching the dragon charge at the poachers. Grasping the gleaming sword, you sprinted in pursuit of the mighty dragon. With determination, you barged through the flaps of the tent, feeling the rush of cool air against your face. Placing two fingers into your mouth, you emitted a sharp whistle that echoed. Suddenly, the rustle of movement filled the air as seven more whelplings emerged from their hiding places. The atmosphere was filled with a palpable mix of anticipation and dread, as the whelplings revolted against their previous owners. Their hunger drove them to feast, their jaws tearing into the unfortunate souls who had once held dominion over them.

Fleeing towards the fog without ever looking back, those who narrowly escaped a tragic fate overlooked the return of your little army to your side.

After reuniting with your comrades, body covered in blood and mud, Iida hands your sword. You tossed the other sword away, taking your blade into your own hands and with it, you shattered another runic orb, revealing nothing under its spell. Two down, five more to go.

"Impossible!" Kirishima explained.

As for the whelplings, you escorted them back to your camp, where they all clustered around Kirishima. Kirishima, surrounded by his kin, comforted the flock before reuniting them with Bakugou's dragon legion, who carried them home where they belonged.

"Not bad for a princess," Said Bakugou, appearing right beside you. He held a damp cloth in his hand, placing it gently in your hand.

"Thank you," you replied, accepting the cloth and rubbing the muck off your face. "So...how was my acti-?"

"Terrible. You're lucky those poachers were drunk and stupid to notice that it was all pretend," Bakugou cut you off, making you sigh. However, the man had more to say. "-But for someone who has no tie to my people, you've done the impossible-"

"The impossible? So you thought I couldn't switch the whelplings? I'm offended." You asked, folding your arms over your chest after the cloth back. Truth be told, Bakugou was watching you the whole time. From the instant you started tearing at your clothes, he knew your plan had its flaws. However, he felt completely incapable of intervening. He wanted to see how far you'd go.

"Of course I did! It's not everyday you see someone do something that takes years to master. It's unbelievable," Bakugou quickly answers, rising the cloth with more water. Rather than giving it back to you, he takes charge of cleaning your face. Paying no attention to your protests, he held your chin and moved your face to his liking. "Handling a dragon takes more than just one night of lessons."

"It didn't take me long to handle you, right?" you nudged, a sly smile stretching on your lips, earning a quicky pinch on your cheek. "Sorry-"

"Mhm," He hums, rubbing your chin with the end of the cloth, revealing a cut on your chin. "How did that happen?"

"A whelpling nicked me, but it's fine and I'm okay!" you assured him, covering the scratch with the tips of your fingers.

Standing there without uttering a word, you patiently allowed Bakugou to take care of your face at his own pace. "You know, you've come a long way since we first met?"

"Yeah, it's hard to believe how much has changed," you said, your voice filled with a mix of awe and nostalgia. As you watch Bakugou take care of you, you can't help but appreciate his gentle touch and demeanor. "I owe you a lot for that. You helping me."

"You've already thanked me back in Iron city,"

"I know, but I can't help but say it again. I can't even begin to fathom what my life would be like if I hadn't run away on my wedding day." You explained, your face dropping as your mind wondered. "So much has happened since-"

"Yeah, for starters, you ate most of my food and pulled my useless ass out of my cave, and I saved your life twice."

"I also saved your life twice, convinced you to return home, became friends with your mother, fixed you broken wing, making you fall for me," you added, pushing the blonde back. As you headed towards your tent, you hear a scoff and, peering over your shoulder, you see colour on his cheeks.

"The last one is not true!" Cheeks flushed and looked away.

Chuckling, you open the flap of your tent, then stop just to smile. "Don't worry, your secret is safe with me, Katsuki,"

Left standing alone, Bakugou shook off the overwhelming thoughts that clouded his mind. As if on cue, the hushed whispers returned, echoing in his ears. Ever since they arrived, the fog has been steadily creeping closer to their camp, to the point where there is a real danger of waking up to find themselves completely surrounded while they all sleep. Bakugou ignored the voices in his head until he felt a presence. Spinning on his heel, he spots a familiar face beckoning him towards the fog. Eyes widening, he noted down the stranger's features and he shrugged off his cloak.

"Brown hair...that face," He muttered as he got closer, feet dragging along the ground.

"Katsuki," a voice called for him.

As they stood face to face, Bakugou finally realized that the man in front of him was none other than his dead father, wearing his signature cloak. "Old man.."

The man, smiling warmly, looked down at Bakugou and spoke, "My boy."

Without warning, Bakugou lunged forward, disappearing into the dense fog as he tightly embraced his father, fearing that he would disappear once more. The spirit's embrace was cold and ethereal, yet to Bakugou it was comforting. Without his knowledge, the fog pulled Bakugou's body further in leaving nothing but he cloak on the ground.

can you tell that i've watching too much house of the dragon??