[He was nothing more than some sacrificial lamb. He meant nothing to the parents that abandoned him and he meant nothing to the parents that took him in. He was just a sweet little child that could use as bartering to be given up to some divine being that looked over the idyllic town he wasn't even sure he hailed from. And maybe, that's the only reason he was picked up instead of left to die. To be nothing more than goods to be bartered.
There's no way he could forget the day he was betrothed. Small and quiet as he looked up at such a magnificent being. While he cared little about the role that was forced upon him and the town, there was something awe inspiring about the visage of the dragon. Those shimmering, gorgeous scales in such a enthralling hue linger in his memories and touches onto his dream, eternal in how it seemed to touch his core.
There were plenty of rumors. That the brides were to be eaten alive or were nothing more than slaves or whatever other ridiculous story that a human mind can conjure. Wriothesley didn't really care about all that. Truly, it didn't matter to him. His fate had been sealed and he merely spent the next many years preparing for his role.
How he grew up though...well it didn't really go as expected. What the dragon first saw before they had been whisked away to prepare for their role was a shy little girl. Wriothesley had not grown up as expected. At some point he found he didn't feel comfortable in this image and decided to shed it all away. No longer was the dainty child, but a man grown proper. Broad shoulders to a wide chest that tapers into a cinched waist. Strong arms and legs from years of manual labor. He had grown well, though perhaps not what his husband-to-be expects.
If he was going to be wed away and leave the only things he ever knew, then he could rid himself of that identity too.
It's on his birthday (he isn't even sure this is his real birthday, but it's the one he celebrates at this point) that he's washed properly and dressed well before he makes his hike up the mountain. The headdress heavy and the outfit cumbersome to travel in while keeping it pristine. Eventually, he kneels down in front of a clear lake and waits quietly.]
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There's no way he could forget the day he was betrothed. Small and quiet as he looked up at such a magnificent being. While he cared little about the role that was forced upon him and the town, there was something awe inspiring about the visage of the dragon. Those shimmering, gorgeous scales in such a enthralling hue linger in his memories and touches onto his dream, eternal in how it seemed to touch his core.
There were plenty of rumors. That the brides were to be eaten alive or were nothing more than slaves or whatever other ridiculous story that a human mind can conjure. Wriothesley didn't really care about all that. Truly, it didn't matter to him. His fate had been sealed and he merely spent the next many years preparing for his role.
How he grew up though...well it didn't really go as expected. What the dragon first saw before they had been whisked away to prepare for their role was a shy little girl. Wriothesley had not grown up as expected. At some point he found he didn't feel comfortable in this image and decided to shed it all away. No longer was the dainty child, but a man grown proper. Broad shoulders to a wide chest that tapers into a cinched waist. Strong arms and legs from years of manual labor. He had grown well, though perhaps not what his husband-to-be expects.
If he was going to be wed away and leave the only things he ever knew, then he could rid himself of that identity too.
It's on his birthday (he isn't even sure this is his real birthday, but it's the one he celebrates at this point) that he's washed properly and dressed well before he makes his hike up the mountain. The headdress heavy and the outfit cumbersome to travel in while keeping it pristine. Eventually, he kneels down in front of a clear lake and waits quietly.]