“Oh no oh no oh no I’m so sorry oh my Bahamut–”

The dragon’s horrified rambling distorted into a wordless wail as they backed away, pressing themselves against the rough stone wall and curling up into a tight ball. They trembled as their wide-eyed gaze flicked from the broken, red smear on the floor to their own bloodied claws and back again.

“I swear I didn’t mean to!” they continued, their voice anguished. “But he just came swinging at me with that axe and I panicked and then I hit him and he–”

“Shh, shh, it’s okay!” Mara said, carefully placing her bow on the floor and stepping forward with her arms held far away from her sheathed daggers. “Well– okay, it isn’t okay, but it was an accident! We all know Brock, he’s a bit of a hothead and, to be frank, a huge idiot.”

“That he is!” Samson agreed, bent over the unlucky Fighter’s body. “But not to worry, we can still fix this.”

The dragon sniffled. “You can? He’s going to be okay?”

Samson rolled up his sleeves and shook his holy amulet free from inside his robes. “Oh, certainly. He’s more or less intact, so getting him back to the living is a pretty simple matter. Just need a few diamonds and a minute or two to focus.”

The dragon still looked terrified, their sides heaving like bellows as they took rapid, gasping breaths.

Mara felt a tug on her sleeve and looked down. Posie was beckoning her closer, the little gnome’s face serious beneath her wide-brimmed, pointed hat.

“She’s still spooked,” Posie whispered into Mara’s ear when she knelt down, “you’d better try to keep her calm while Samson puts Brock back together again.”

“Why me?” Mara hissed, glancing apprehensively at the dragon who had so easily dispatched their strongest party member. “Didn’t you see what that dragon did to Brock?”

“Samson is busy and you’ve already started talking to her! She hasn’t burnt us to a crisp yet, but that can change! Now hurry up!”

Mara yelped and skittered forward as she felt the hard wood of the little wizard’s staff smack her buttocks. She nearly turned to strangle the miniscule magician, but caught herself as the still-terrified dragon echoed her own exclamation with a shriek of her own.

“Sorry, sorry!” Mara soothed, her arms held wide. “I didn’t mean to shout, promise.” She took a cautious step forward. “What’s your name, dear?”

“Bri–” the dragon hiccuped. “Brimstone.”

“That’s a nice name.” She kept up her slow approach, a gentle smile on her face. “Have you lived here long?”

“No, I just moved in last month. I’d heard there was an old abandoned ruin in this area, and I figured I might extend the cellar into a proper lair…” the dragon trailed off and tried to back away from Mara, sliding along the wall. “There was no-one here when I moved in! I swear, not even a tribe of Kobolds!”

“It’s okay! We know. The only reason we came here in the first place was to find some shelter from the rain outside – we went down here to escape the worst of the wind.” Mara stopped an arm’s length away from Brimstone and smiled up at her. “I’m sorry we spooked you.”

Brimstone returned the smile with a shaky one of her own. “It’s alright. Again, I’m so sorry about your friend, truly…”

Mara looked over her shoulder to watch Samson working his magic over Brock’s body, golden sparkles drifting prettily in the air around him as Posie looked on. “Oh, Samson will have him fixed up in a minute. In the meantime–” she fished a handkerchief out of her pocket. “Do you want some help with that?”

Brimstone blinked, following Mara’s gaze to her own bloodied claws. She shuddered and looked away again, hiding her head beneath a wing. “Yes, please. I really don’t want to lick that off.”

She extended her leg and spread her claws wide, her face scrunched up as she looked away, eyes shut. Mara gently took one sword-length talon and began wiping it clean, feeling the tension in Brimstone’s muscles ease with every stroke.

“There. That’s much better, don’t you think?”

Brimstone peered down at her claws through one eye, sagging with relief as she saw them clean. “Yes, thank you! That is so much better. Though I’m sorry you ruined your handkerchief…”

“What, this old thing?” Mara laughed, stuffing the stained cloth back into her pocket. “Not the first time I wipe up Brock’s blood with it, and it won’t be the last!” She patted Brimstone’s claw. “Worth it to cheer you up.”

The dragon tittered, her tail wagging gently back and forth behind her. “Oh, what a lady. I might just–”

”HAH! I’m back! Have at you, dragon! You won’t best me twice!”

“No, Brock, wait–!”

Mara threw herself flat as Brimstone shrieked with panic. The dragon spun, her tail flying through the air like a living battering ram and impacting the just-revived Brock in the chest with a gasp of expelled air and the crumple of shattering armour.

A second later he smacked into the far wall with enough force to crack the stone, sticking wetly for a moment as he coughed.

Then his eyes rolled into the back of his head and he slid off the wall, leaving a bloody red trail behind.

Mara, Posie and Samson just stared.

”Oh my Bahamut!” Poor Brimstone wailed. “Not again!”

Been a while since I answered a prompt! Feels good to get back in the game! :D

Thanks for the great prompt, and thank you for reading!

Feel free to check out r/ZetakhWritesStuff for more dragon stories!