Dragon.

Such a simple word; a singular noun with two syllables, written six letters long – 'D', 'R', 'A', 'G', 'O', 'N'. It is a word of relatively innocuous etymology, tracing back, through its earliest roots, to the Proto-Indo-European derkesthai, meaning "to see clearly". In other words, "dragon" is "that which sees clearly," or "the one with the (deadly) glance".

A curious way of describing them, no? Great, flying, scaled beasts of peerless magical power and physical strength. Roaring, whirling, storms of muscle and sinew and fang and talon. Living engines of destruction, the seven deadly sins embodied in living flesh – avaritia given form, luxuria given reason, gula given wing, invidia given sight, acedia given security, ira given focus, and superbia given majesty. The elements incarnate, immortal and unassailable. Cunning and might beyond that of men, in a vessel great and terrible beyond description.

Dragon. It's such a simple, unassuming word, and yet what it describes is so grand and magnificent... and terrible and fell, as well. But, in the end, even this meandering mess of an introduction must give way to a story, or as much as it can be called such. Because once you strip away all the flowery prose and poetic language, you will find that even dragons are but animals, and all animals must obey their instincts.

Yes, ultimately even dragons are slaves to their instincts. This is true for dragons born and bred, and this is true for their children adopted and nurtured.

Instincts Draconian

A Fairy Tail Drabble Collection

By

EvilFuzzy9

First Entry:

Grooming

Makarov Dreyar, diminutive senior citizen and immensely powerful wizard, groaned at the sight before him. Massaging his temples, he spoke.

"Cana, child," he began, addressing the (very) young brunette in the sweetest tone he could manage under the circumstances, "I know you may think it's 'cute', but—"

"Hey now, master, don't be too hard on her," interjected Wakaba from the sidelines, where he was sharing a drink with his longtime friend and partner-in-crime, Macao Conbolt. "It is kinda cute, after all."

"Yeah," Macao chimed in. "It's the sorta thing you'd take a picture of to put in the family photo album." He paused, no doubt thinking of his own son, little Romeo who was still just an infant. "Hell, I remember just a few years back about how a certain someone spent three straight months obsessing over his 'precious little grandson' and following him everywhere with a magic camcorder..." he trailed off with a meaningful glance at the wizard he most respected.

"Oh yeah," Wakaba grinned, his pipe threatening to fall from his mouth as he did so. "I remember that... And I also remember that very same someone harassing everyone he came across to watch that damned portable projector doohickey every time he got footage of the boy so much as picking his nose on the movie lacrima."

Macao laughed heartily at that recollection. "Yes! It was awful! Ha haha!" He wiped a tear from the corner of his eye. "Ahh, the day Gildartz 'accidentally' destroyed that blasted thing was probably one of the best days of my life... It was definitely one of the most peaceful, that's for sure." He chucked.

Wakaba, chortling, nodded his head in agreement.

Master Makarov glowered petulantly at the two. "You two just don't appreciate that sort of thing," he said. "But once you reach MY age, you'll learn just how precious such moments are."

Wakaba and Macao looked at each other. Then they looked at Makarov. As one, they gave him an identical pair of shit-eating grins.

"Really?" Wakaba queried. "Well, then, show us how much you appreciate these moments."

Makarov blinked, doing his best impression of a fish out of water as his mouth opened and closed uselessly. They had him trapped. Macao and Wakaba had just outwitted him. Him, Makarov Dreyar, third master of Fairy Tail and one of the Ten Wizard Saints!

It was shameful, really. But there was nothing to be done for it–at least, nothing that wouldn't result in massive property damage, two impudent wizards in the ICU at Saint Elimine's, and a tedious lecture from the council chairman, Archsage Nowitt Ar Tellal the Hermit (a crotchety, dried up recluse of a wizard who was said to have been studying magic since before the rise of Zeref – a generally fairly obvious exaggeration, but the man was still well over a century old and borderline senile, so his lectures tended to go on for forever and a day as he often what he had and had not said, and thus usually ended up repeating himself several times before finishing)–so he sighed and resigned himself to trying to find something something "cute" about this situation.

But it was so hard to do, when the newest guild member, little Natsu Dragneel, was splashing about, naked as a lark, in a large maple-wood barrel of some exceptionally expensive imported liqueur that was traditionally reserved for special holidays when it would be added to the list of beverages for sale in the guild bar for sale to the more festively-inclined guild members (and occasionally some of the bolder and/or crazier Magnolia citizens looking for discounts on good booze and better service) who would always start popping out of the woodwork around those times of year. Thirty thousand jewel worth of high quality alcohol just... wasted. It could have brought a tear to old Makarov's eye if he would have let it.

He did not, however, let it. After all, how would he ever be able to... appreciate... the scene before him as something cute if all he thought about was how much money was going down the proverbial drain as the young, pink-haired child bathed in the liqueur? Shaking his head, Makarov struggled to think of positives to this situation.

If he calmed down and thought about it logically, he was sure to figure out some way to salvage the sweet alcoholic liquid. Perhaps by filtering it through a block of wood... Or maybe exchanging it with another guild... Heck, if he looked through his library, he would not be surprised if there might be one book among his many tomes and grimoires that happened to contain a spell of some sort to make the booze as good as new. Yes, if he did a search through his cooking themed spell books, like Culinary Conjurations, Enchanted Edibles, Grimoire Gastronomia, or even The Timeless Taste of Transfiguration, then he was certain to find some way to salvage the sweet, sweet liquor or, failing that, slap together a DIY spell based on what he could find...

'Yes, that should work...' he thought with a satisfied nod. Having finished with that, he turned his attention back to the mischievous Natsu. Just in time for the lad to leap out of the barrel. 'I'm just glad Erza isn't here at the moment,' he mused wryly as he watched the boy dancing about in an attempt to dry himself. 'She's a sweet enough girl, deep down, but it seems like she still hasn't come to accept the boy as a part of the guild, and I doubt that these antics–charming as they may be–would do anything to endear him to her. ... though Gray would probably be thrilled with this.' He chuckled softly at that thought, and at the resulting silly mental image of Gray declaring Natsu his "Nakedness Buddy". The corners of his lips quirked upwards.

Oh, how he had needed that. Porlyusica kept telling him he needed to smile more if he wanted to stay healthy, but after what had happened with Ivan, it had gotten so much harder...

He shook his head to clear it of these thoughts. No! He had to think positive. He had to stay optimistic! He could not continue to let every little thing get to him!

Just then, Natsu, having dripped off most of what had to be dried, suddenly wreathed himself in flames to finish drying off. While standing in a puddle of (flammable, obviously) alcohol.

Next to a large barrel filled with alcohol.

Needless to say, the whole mess lit up the night sky on New Year's Eve. The resulting fireball was one of the biggest, brightest, and hottest that had ever been seen inside the confines of the guild hall.

As for the mess afterwards, well... if nothing else, it managed to convince Makarov that Cana Alberona was to never be allowed within a hundred feet of another babysitting mission as long he still lived, and that Natsu was not to be let anywhere near anything even remotely alcoholic until he either turned fifteen or learned that fire and alcohol tend to mix a little too well.

FIN


A/N: Welp, that was a good... ahh, three or maybe four straight hours that I spent typing this up. Man, it's a little scary how quickly getting my ADHD medication refilled can turn around my productivity. Now if only I could focus that creativity towards some of my neglected, preexisting works...

On another note, this is my first Fairy Tail fic, my second fic of 2012, and my fifty-first fanfic ever posted. Yay?

Now, as for notes on notable things in the chapter. There is a Fire Emblem reference somewhere in the drabble. Those who find it get an imaginary cheese wonton (the ones at the restaurant where I work are supposedly delicious, though I don't really care for them; the filling, if I recall correctly, is a mixture of cream cheese and cheesecake filling, which means they're actually sorta more sweet than cheesy, and my other family members love them) and a sense of satisfaction at picking up a reference to a videogame that was, until recently, honestly rather obscure in English-speaking countries. Also, the name "Nowitt Ar Tellal" (roughly prounounced "know-it are tell-all [Tellal being pronounced like Jellal]") is my own invention, as far as I know, that I came up with over a period of several days while at work. It's honestly a fairly lame pun, and the character I originally invented the name for is one that, while nice for my own idle FT-themed musings and imaginings, would be rather awkward to fit into any FT fic I could write.

Lastly, I'll be adding installments to this as I write them. The lengths, genres, and even ratings will doubtlessly vary, and this collection is not a high priority of mine, so unless I get an overwhelming* demand from the people for more, it will be updated solely at my leisure.

* "Overwhelming" is a relative term.

TTFN and R&R!