Chapter Text
The town was deserted as Stan rode his wagon into town.
Perfect.
Two months ago news had spread about a dragon terrorizing the north. Villages had been attacked, farms had burned to the ground, and a giant beast spotted flying in the air. The ones that could had fled to the warmer cities of the south, while the ones that couldn’t migrated to the larger cities, that had larger walls and more defenses.
Leaving everything they couldn’t carry behind.
An excellent opportunity for anyone who dared venture forth into the dragons territory to find something worthwhile. Who knew what got left in the blind panic to escape. Jewelry, weapons, even common household tools could fetch a pretty penny if you found the right buyer.
Stan dared, because dragons weren’t real.
He’d traveled from coast to coast, continent to continent, further and farther than anyone else in his family, chasing riches and glory. Everywhere it was the same, the more magical a creature, the more magic it needed to sustain itself. There was no way something as large as a dragon could survive. They were too fantastical, flying, breathing fire, diamond scales? It’d die before it could hatch from starvation.
The largest magical creature he’d seen were the gnomes, and the best they could do was stack and have weird colored bodily fluids. Anything bigger was a fairy tale, anything more mystical was simply a story teller taking liberties.
Magic itself was a rare commodity. What little enchanted artifacts existed today were few and far between, and even the simplest one could empty out your life’s saving, even if all it did was warm your hands.
Which is why Stan had stolen his. He rolled it between his hands as Stanmare trotted down the stone path into the village proper. Stan pulled on the reins, then jumped down and tied her to a nearby pole.
It was time to get to work.
This was the third village he’d gone through, making his way deeper into the ‘dragons’ territory as he went. It was probably some hot shot kid who found some kind of illusion projector and was broadcasting it into the sky as a prank, while bandits took advantage of the distraction. Or just bandits. Illusion projectors were excellent distractions after all (not that Stan knew anything about that).
He'd skipped any town that had already looked looted, heading further and further north, until he reached here. The sign had said it was called Gravity Falls, which was a weird name for a village, but what did Stan know.
Stan rolled his hand warmer, then shoved it up his sleeve. Thankfully the snow hadn’t come down yet, although judging by the sky it wouldn’t be too long until that changed. This would be his last stop before turning around. He didn’t want to get stuck up here all winter, the Leewagon wasn’t built to go across snow, and with the towns abandoned no one would bother to clear the roads.
Better be quick then. Whistling a tune, he made his way to the first house and tried the knob. It was locked, but that was easily fixed.
He went through all the rooms, opening cupboards and grabbing anything that looked useful or valuable. There wasn’t much, but he didn’t need much. Anything would do at this point. He went and grabbed anything that caught his eye and shoved it in the back of the wagon, in his one other enchanted item.
It was a chest, well worn and scruffy. That was probably the only reason no one had bothered to steal it. The enchantment had been engraved on the bottom, and Stan had nailed it down the best he could after Ford had-
It was his most valuable possession. An almost bottomless trunk. Almost, because there was definitely a limit to how much junk he could stuff in it, he just couldn't figure out the limit. It tended to change depending on what was in there. He had never bothered figuring out what combinations did what, just shoved stuff inside until he couldn’t anymore.
Stan whistled a jaunty tune as he made his way around the village, occasionally rolling his hand warmer and keeping an eye on the sky. He didn’t think it would snow until at least tomorrow, but this kind of weather was always unpredictable.
It was the only reason he saw the growing shadow in the distance.
By now he’d made his way through several houses and businesses, and had gotten a pretty good haul. Enough to get the loan sharks off his back for at least a month, maybe more if the rest of the houses went well. He was just stepping out of a house, carrying a box full of potential profit, when he looked up to check the weather again.
Then stared.
It was difficult to see due to the overcast sky, but in the distance he could see something making its way closer. He spent too long staring at it, squinting and turning his head to figure out what it was, before he realized with a jolt that it was probably the dragon, based on the weird way it was moving.
Stan cursed, then ran to his wagon and dumped the box into his chest. That meant the bandits or whatever using the dragon image to terrorize everyone was making their way here. There was no way to know how far out they were, but he couldn’t take any chances.
He jumped down to untie Stanmare, then grabbed her reigns and lead her down a nearby alley way and to the next street over, out of view of the main gate. The village wasn’t large, so there weren’t really any places he could hide a horse. Hopefully the bandits would pass on by, or give him enough time to charge them.
With that in mind he jumped up to the seat of his wagon and waited, keeping an ear out for approaching voices or footsteps.
Instead of either of those things, a few minutes later a strange whooshing sound filled the air, and something slammed into the ground nearby, shaking the earth and startling Stanmare. She trotted in place for a moment, but settled quickly when he pulled on the reins.
Stan frowned. What on earth had done that? It didn’t feel like an earth quake, and the sound was more windy in nature. As he listened, he heard something scrapping across the road, on the other side of the building. Then the sound of something crashing, shaking the building next to him. Stanmare whined, and Stan pulled the reins again. She settled, but still shifted uneasily.
Then silence.
Stan looked around, tapping his foot, before something wet fell next to him. It looked like a giant rain drop, but it was too cold for rain, and even then, far too large. He looked up, frowning.
Then froze.
That was definitely a dragon.
It was standing on the roof above him, its scales a dark red. Black spikes went down its back and two huge wings with golden webbing were spread out to help it balance. It was easily three or four times the size of the Leewagon and staring straight at Stanmare. Drool was spilling out between its teeth, and a forked tongue darted out. Stan watched as it slowly crept over the roof, watching the stone crack under its razor-sharp claws.
Illusions couldn’t do that, no matter how good they were.
Stan made his choice in an instant. Although he hated it, a horse was more replaceable than his life. This wasn’t even the first Stanmare.
It didn’t make it hurt any less as he reached down and pulled the emergency disengagement lever. It was something Ford had designed; in case his horse decided to try and drag him off a cliff. That was something that haunted his brother’s nightmares for some reason, even though there hadn’t been any cliffs near their childhood home and none of his horses had gone where he didn’t want them to.
Once that was done, he flicked the reins and let go. Stanmare reacted immediately, racing off down the street, quickly breaking out into a full run as the dragon above them snarled and lunged after her.
Stan scrambled back into his wagon, narrowly avoiding its tail as it whipped over head and ducking down out of sight. He could hear it chasing after her, scrambling around the town. Then the sounds of wood shattering, and hooves on stone as she raced down the path out of the village. A moment later a roar shook the buildings, and some of the roof from above fell down and hit the canvas above him.
Stan didn’t move. He could hear it moving around out there, claws scraping across cobblestones and sniffing. His blood froze as he realized it was making its way closer, and he slammed a hand over his mouth, trying to muffle his breathing.
He better not die here just after his horse escaped. That was too unfair.
The sounds of its footsteps drew closer, until suddenly he could see the shadow of its head on the side of the canvas. It was about the same size, which meant it could easily eat him in one bite. It sniffed along the canvas, and Stan shrank down, heart beating rapidly in his chest and sweat dripping down his neck.
A claw reached out and pulled the back flap open. Before he had a chance to move a giant eye peered in. It was brown and slit like a lizard. It looked around, before it spotted him huddling on the opposite side. Then it froze, pupil shrinking. Stan couldn’t breathe as it studied him. From here, he could see his reflection in its eye, looking wide eyed and terrified.
A moment later the pupil grew, expanding to fill its entire eyeball until he could barely make out the brown on the edges. It pulled away, letting the flap drop.
Before Stan could even try to be relieved the wagon rocked around him, knocking him over and making him slam into the wall. He screamed as he saw the dragons talons, digging in and piercing the wood of the wagon, one of them an inch away from his face.
He scrambled to his feet, wobbling as the ground moved from under him, then grabbed onto the side of the wagon and looked out. He paled at what he saw.
The dragon had grabbed the wagon with its two front legs and was flapping its wings hard, pulling it, and therefore him, into the air. They were already several feet up.
Thinking quickly, he climbed onto the front seat, hooked his legs over the side and jumped down. He rolled as he landed on the stone, then shot to his feet, heart beating and joints aching.
A second later he screamed as the wagon crashed down behind him, shattering its wheels. The dragon followed, back legs landing behind the wagon and front legs grabbing onto nearby buildings to support its weight as it bent down and peered at him.
Stan fell down and scrambled backwards, trying to get away and keep his eyes on it at the same time. It just huffed at him. Then it rolled its eyes? Which, what? He stared at it, flabbergasted, then screamed as one of its front claws grabbed him and shoved him back in the wagon. He landed hard, groaning, then scrambled back to his feet as the talons dug back in and the dragon shot into the air.
The motion knocked him back over, making him roll around the bed into the chest and flinging his stuff everywhere. He groaned again, then threw an arm out and held on as the dragon turned, making everything in the wagon shift to the side.
He waited until it evened out, then crawled along the floor towards the back and peeked over the edge. Then he crouched back down, slapping a hand over his mouth as he tried to keep his breathing even.
They were far above the village already and getting higher. There was no way he could jump out now. He could feel his stomach sinking to his feet and closed his eyes.
Dragons were real.
They were real, and one of them was going to eat him.
He shivered, air rapidly cooling at the higher altitude, and pulled out his hand warmer. He crawled back to the chest and huddled next to it, as close to hidden as he could get. It wouldn’t do much, but it made him feel better.
It probably would have been a better idea to see where the dragon was taking him, but the idea terrified him. He’d never been good with heights. Couldn’t even stomach to be on the top bunk as a child. This was much, much higher than any bunk or tower he’d had the misfortune of being on.
He didn’t know how long they flew, too busy trying to control his terror and keep warm, but eventually the even flight went back to nerve-wracking turns. Stan shoved the hand warmer back up his sleeve, then clutched on tightly to the chest, squeezing his eyes closed. The sharp movements made his stomach roll, but he shoved down the feeling. If he was about to die, he wasn’t going to do it covered in vomit.
He'd save it for the dragon’s mouth if he could. Much better use there.
Eventually the movement stopped, and he screamed as the wagon crashed to the ground again. He could hear the talons prying themselves free of the wood. Then silence. Stan refused to open his eyes, just clung to the chest next to him and huddled down against it.
The dragon sniffed around the wagon, and Stan felt its warm breath rushing past him. It smelt disgusting, and he fought down a gag and hunched further.
Maybe if he didn’t move, it’d go away.
It did not. Instead, something large hooked around his chest and tugged on him. Stan tightened his grip, refusing to budge. The dragon let out a puff of air, warming the back of his neck and making him wrinkle his nose. Then it tugged harder, ripping his hands off the chest and pulling him out of the wagon.
Stan’s eyes flew open, and the world became a blur of colors as he was dragged through the air, then dropped. He cried out as he hit something hard and uncomfortable, then kept yelling as the ground slid out from under him. He rolled for a minute, limbs flailing as he tried to catch himself, before he slammed into something.
Stan groaned, then looked up, blinking. His jaw dropped at the sight in front of him.
Treasure. Piles and piles and heaps of golden coins, treasure chests, and gems, spread out in a large stone chamber. Light came from somewhere high above him, making the coins and gems shine. It was more money than he’d seen in his entire life. More than he’d ever see in ten lifetimes.
He was about to start shoveling it into his pockets, when the thing he’d crashed into moved. He glanced over at it, then screamed and tried to scramble away from the dragon’s leg. It was hard to do with all the coins sliding underneath him, but he managed to push away.
Then he slipped and started rolling again as the coin mountain he was on collapsed under him. He slammed into something again and groaned. His ribs were feeling pretty bruised from all the tumbling he’d been doing today. In front of him was another leg, and once again he tried to scramble away.
Before he could more than flail, something grabbed the back of his cloak and pulled him into the air. His hands came up to grab his collar, stopping it from choking him as he kicked his legs. The world became a blur again, before he was dropped back on the coin pile. He slipped and fell over, then once again started rolling, still not used to walking on gold coins as they shifted underfoot and collapsed under his weight.
The dragon huffed above him, then grabbed his collar again, pulling him up and setting him down somewhere more stable. Stan groaned, blinking at the large empty chest he was now sitting in. The dragon made a pleased noise above him, and he jumped. He whipped his head to stare at it, then shrunk down as it brought its head closer. Its pupil was still huge, and Stan saw his own terrified face, once again staring back at him.
Then it nodded and made a strange chirping noise. Stan braced himself, but all it did was circle the chest and curl around it, resting its head on its legs in such a way that it could stare at him. Then they sat there. Staring at each other.
It was kind of boring after a while, once the terror started fading away.
“Uh,” he started to say, then jumped and hunched down further when the dragon’s head lifted up, bobbing up and down. It looked excited? Maybe? Stan didn’t know much about lizards.
It set its head down after a moment, tightening its curl until every side of the box was touching the dragon. Its head was right next to the front, close enough for him to reach out and touch.
Stan wasn’t going to do that, because Stan liked having hands.
It stared at him longer, and he coughed. Then licked his lips and tried again.
“So-”
Once again it lifted its head and bobbed it up and down, this time making a chirping noise. Stan had no idea what was going on anymore.
It slammed its head back down, shaking the box. He hunched again, hands coming up to cover his head. All it did was stare, so he slowly uncurled.
“I-”
More head bobbing. This was actually starting to get annoying. He was trying to talk to the thing that maybe wanted to eat him, and it kept doing this weird head dance. What even was this?
“Excuse-”
Stan growled as it did its little dance again, chirping and looking pleased with itself. He was about to jump out of this box and attack it if it didn’t let him finish a sentence.
Before he could, another voice cut through the room.
“Stanford? What on earth are you doing in here?”
The dragon slammed its head down in response, then used one of its wings to cover the chest. It cut off all the light, except for the faint glow of its eye. Stan hunched back down, once again terrified.
The dragon made a clicking noise, and Stan could hear coins sliding as something walked up the coin pile.
“Thought you were out getting dinner?”
More clicking, and Stan could feel the dragon shifting, getting closer to the box and making the wood creak.
“Are you sure? Winter storms coming, you won’t be able to head out for a while.”
The dragon clicked again, and Stan had had enough.
“What is-”
He was interrupted by the dragon, pupil shrinking as it made a loud growling noise. Stan slammed a hand over his mouth and backed up, suddenly very aware that he was sitting in the middle of a dragon in the dark.
There was a moment of silence, then-
“Stanford.”
The pupil widened again, then the eye started to close as it grumbled quietly. Stan’s heart started beating faster as the light started going away. He did not need to be in pitch darkness on top of everything else.
“Stanford, what do you have.”
More grumbling, but it stopped closing its eye, which was good enough for him.
“Well, you can’t say I didn’t give you a chance to fess up.”
Before Stan could even process the words the top of the chest slammed down. His heart stopped and his hands started getting clammy. Before he could start screaming the lid shot open again. The dragon’s wing was gone, and the light from overhead blinded him. He cried out, slamming his hands over his eyes, then yelled as the chest was suddenly lifted into the air.
“Stanford! You give that to me right now!” the voice yelled from below. Stan looked around wildly to see the dragon’s scales above him. He scooched over to the side and peered over, trying to figure out what was happening. Before he got a good look at whoever was speaking, or where he was now, something smashed into the bottom of the chest and burst through, showering him in splinters. He held up an arm to protect his face, then lowered it when the spray stopped.
There was a giant metal hand, smashed through the bottom and now gripping the floor of the box. Stan had a moment to realize the implications, before they started happening to him very quickly.
The dragon pulled the sides of the chest up, the metal hand pulled the bottom down. The chest, which was made of wood and not built to stand up to this kind of treatment, creaked, then shattered, as the walls went up and the bottom went down.
Stan, who was sitting inside said chest, screamed as he fell, covering his face to protect it from splinters. He slammed back down onto the coin mountain, then rolled down it again as the coins slipped from underneath him. The world was a blur of colors before something grabbed the back of his clothes and pulled him upwards.
His feet dangled beneath him, and he blinked at them for a moment, before looking up. Once again, he froze, as the giant metal face peered back at him. It looked just like a man, if a man was three times the size he should be and also metal. Stan had no idea what he was looking at, but it was looking at him, eyes making a whizzing sound as they studied his face. It opened its mouth, looking shocked, then dropped him.
Stan only rolled for a couple of seconds before the dragon scooped him up, holding him in one claw and running its talons over his head with the other, like he was a doll, and it was a little girl looking for comfort. Stan groaned, then scowled and tried to push the claw away.
“Oh, my lord,” the metal guy said below them, looking up at Stan slack jawed, “Where on earth did you find him at,”
The dragon held him to its chest, then puffed up and made some more clicking sounds. Stan just slumped in its hold, defeated. He had no idea what was happening anymore and was too tired to fight the dragon squeezing him.
“And you were gonna, what, have him live in that box forever?” the look of disbelief changed, voice turning disapproving as it crossed its metal arms, “People can’t live like that. What were you gonna feed him, huh?”
The dragon ducked its head down and muttered something. Stan scowled.
“Uh huh, and what if he wanted to stretch his legs? Get some fresh air? Go to the bathroom? What then?”
The dragon made some more clicks, turning its head away. Stan scowled harder. He didn’t like the way the metal guy was talking like he wasn’t here.
“Hey-” he started to say, then growled as the dragon trilled above him, doing its weird dance and peering at him.
“Can’t you-” The next trill sent Stan’s fury through the roof. First it ruined his looting, then chased off his horse, then kidnapped him, and was apparently trying to keep him as a pet? And now it wouldn’t even let him talk?
Time to see how diamond like these scales really were.
Turns out, pretty diamond like. Stan growled as he bit down on the claw holding him. The dragon didn’t seem to notice, too busy trilling. The scales didn’t even have the slightest flex in them. It felt like he was biting a rock.
“Stanford, he doesn’t look too happy there,” the metal man said, and Stan growled at him, “Although I can see the resemblance even better like this.”
“What-” Stan felt a fury he’d never felt before as the dragon trilled again. That’s it. he was getting out of here if it killed him. The scales were as hard as rocks, but Stan had a new idea. The grip wasn’t too hard, and more for making sure he didn’t fall down. So, he didn’t.
Stan brought his arms up next to him, bracing against the dragons claw, and pushed himself up out of the hold. The dragon blinked and looked down at him, but it was too late. Once Stan’s feet were free, he launched himself out of its claw, covering his head as he hit the coins below him and rolled. He was ready this time, only going for a second before jumping to his feet and running down the coin mountain towards the far wall.
He was pretty sure there had to be an exit around here somewhere, he just had to find it.
Behind him he heard the dragon chirp, then growl. Then the shifting of coins as it followed. Stan focused on the goal in front of him, if he just-
Something grabbed the back of his coat, then pulled him backwards. He screamed as his feet left the ground, then watched in confusion as he shot past the dragon. A second later he slammed into something, and he let out an ‘oof’ as it knocked the breath out of him.
Back to the metal man it seemed. What even was this guy? Better yet, what was happening to him?
“What-” he growled, then the dragon trilled, turning and running back towards them. Stan whipped his head around; all fear forgotten as pure fury filled every fiber of his being.
“IF YOU DON’T SHUT UP I’LL STRANGLE YOU WITH MY BARE HANDS !” He screeched at it, snarling. The dragon stumbled to a halt, then puffed up, growling at him.
Stan growled back, lifting a hand and pointing it at it, “DON’T YOU START! I haven’t been able to get a single word out this whole time! Because of your whole,” Stan did his best to imitate the sound the dragon made, waving his hands around, “what even is that! What’s happening here! Who the hell is this guy!” Stan turned and waved a hand at the metal man, who was looking at him in fascination. Stan scowled.
“Stop staring. Its-”
The dragon made a soft trill noise, now directly next to them.
Stan didn’t hesitate, clawing at its face as the metal man held him back by his cloak. The dragon chuckled as it sat on its hind legs, face far out of reach and gazing down at him smugly.
“Stanford, stop antagonizing your brother.” The metal man said, shaking its head at them and frowning. Stan kept snarling, then stopped. He processed the words, then looked at the metal man in confusion.
“What? What are you talking about? What brother?”
The dragon landed hard on its front legs, making a soft sound at him. Stan just stared back, confused. He only had two brothers, and neither of them were dragons as far as he was aware.
“Stanford, don’t tell me you snatched him and didn’t tell him nothin’” the metal man said, sighing. The dragon, who he refused to call Stanford, dropped its head and looked away.
The metal man sighed and shook its head. “Typical, probably scared him half to death, didn’t you?”
The dragon started making circles in the coins with his claws. Then it perked up and looked back at Stan. It scooched closer, then held up one of its front legs, wiggling its talons in his face.
Stan flinched back, then stared.
“What is this. What are you doing.”
The dragon rolled its eyes, then pulled its arm back, moving each one of its talons down one at a time. Stan kept staring, then squinted, furrowing his eyebrows.
One. Two. Three. Four. Five. Six.
Six.
There were definitely six on that dragon. Just like someone else he knew.
Had to be a coincidence. There was no possible way Ford had gotten turned into a dragon. It didn’t make any kind of sense.
“Nope!” Stan crossed his arms and looked away, first at the metal man then the other way towards the wall. “I am not seeing it! All dragons must have six claws. Just normal dragon things.”
The dragon growled at him, but he stood firm. This was the kind of nonsense he refused to participate in.
“Now Stanley-” Stan whipped his head around, staring wide eyed at the metal man.
“How did you know my name?”
The man looked back at him, unimpressed.
“Your brother told me, if you would-”
“Nope! Not my brother!” Stan shoved his fingers in his ears, looking away, “Lalala! I can’t hear you-AAAHHHH!” Stan screamed as the dragon shoved its snout into his stomach, glaring at him and making a clicking noise. He tried to shove it away, but seeing as it was ten times his size and he was dangling in the air, it didn’t really do anything.
The metal man sighed, then pulled Stan away and tucked him under its arm. Then it started making its way down the coin pile, the dragon (who was Not Ford!) trailing behind him. Stan scowled at it, kicking his legs and trying to pull his arms free.
“Hey, let me go! I have legs! And rights! This is kidnapping!”
“Sorry Stanley,” the metal man said, walking towards a giant set of dark double doors Stan hadn’t noticed before (probably from the terror). His wagon was nowhere to be seen, “But I couldn’t let you go, even if I wanted to. Dragons get possessive of things they view as theirs. Until we can fix your brother, you’re stuck here.”
“What! I’m not a thing! You can’t possess me? And that’s not Ford! I refuse to believe whatever’s happening here!”
“Try telling him that,” the metal man gestured to the dragon behind them. Stan bent forwards and saw it staring at him, pupils once again huge. He scowled at it, then kicked his legs more, trying to hit the metal man and do. Something. He wasn’t sure if this thing could feel pain, but he was willing to find out.
Stan growled as they made their way through fancy stone hallways, walls lined with weird non-flame torches that didn’t flicker.
He should have stayed down south.