WILLIAM LAURENCE + TEMERAIRE + NEWT SCAMANDER
PG FOR ADORABLE NERDS | COMPLETE
It had been almost a full day since arriving, Laurence’s coat unbuttoned now in a casual way he wasn’t entirely used to wearing. But it was hot, and comfort was occasionally more important than keeping his aviator jacket buttoned.
Since waking up, he had not seen Temeraire yet, and with such a shift and change in… well, everything, he couldn’t help the feeling of worry that settled into his stomach. Temeraire could fit on the balcony to his rooms, but only barely, and not comfortably. They had opted for a pavillion on the ground, just below said balcony, and within shouting distance if Laurence kept his windows open.
But he had heard no shouts, or signs at all of his dearest dragon, and that carried his feet down to the lobby below and outside, into the heat. With the heat, a brief thought coursed through him that he would have to adjust his wardrobe to fit in, though his nose wrinkled at the thought immediately and he was forced to push it aside so he could find Temeraire. If he knew his curious dragon as he did… Laurence let his feet carry him to the nearby beach, which was thankfully in walking distance, and had to stifle a chuckle as he saw a group nearby murmuring their wonder at large black form, frolicking in the water.
He was smaller here, and that was still an adjustment, though they were assured that it was temporary, only when in the city, in order to avoid damage to buildings and such. It was understandable, and Laurence himself had seen the damage dragons could cause to architecture, when left to their own devices. But seeing a normally 20-ton dragon now the size of the cows he typically ate, was still strange.
But it clearly hadn’t stopped Temeraire’s love of water, or fish. As Laurence approached, boots settling uncomfortably into the sand as he walked, Temeraire settled down and gave his human something of a smile. “Laurence! You cannot enter the water dressed like that.”
WIth a wry smile, Laurence stopped a few feet from the lapping water. “My dear, I have no interest in hopping in the water at this time. I am merely here to chastise you for exploring without me.”
To his credit, Temeraire did immediately look embarrassed - as embarrassed as a dragon could look - and sunk down a little further. “Oh, I’m sorry. But I could hear the water! And your snoring, through the open window.”
It was the jibe at his snoring that made Laurence sigh, and finally settle down on his arse in the sand. He never could be “angry” at Temeraire for long, even when he was being teased.
Of all the places in the world, Newt wouldn’t have expected to find a dragon here. Perhaps that was something that made him short-sighted, in a way - dragons were something Newt was incredibly passionate about because they were perhaps one of the - if not the most misunderstood creatures that he’d ever had the pleasure of meeting. The Ukranian Ironbellies he used to train could easily have fit ten or so humans in their mouth, yet they would press up to him as though they were his mother. This, however, was not a sentiment expressed by most of the wizards who had worked with him on the same project. They simply couldn’t seem to grasp that the dragons shouldn’t be used as a weapon and that it was wrong to assume as such, but...that kind of talk had gotten Newt kicked off of the project. Not before he’d released the entire breeding population of Ironbellies into the wild, but that was beside the point. He refused to train them to respond to fear.
The Ironbellies were the first thing he remembered when he set his sights on a dragon on the beach. A rather small dragon, really - perhaps it was a juvenile, but it wasn’t a species he’d ever seen or recorded before and he was rather sure it was difficult to miss such a beautiful creature, even amongst foliage that hid it.
And then it talked.
“I’m sorry- I’m sorry, do you talk?” he asked, wonder lighting in his eyes as he approached the pair that seemed to be in the midst of an argument. “I’ve never met a dragon who could talk before and I’ve met rather a few dragons. How rude of me- can I ask your name?”
Dragon and human turned their heads in almost sync, Laurence with far more of an amused expression as he squinted up. It wasn’t the first time they had questions in their twenty-four hours of arrival, though he had to admit people were far more enthused about dragons here than they were back home. Back home it was just sighing and complaints that all of the livestock had been eaten.
Temeraire was never the more approachable one, given his normal size, but he was always curious about people, and loved talking about himself. His head ruff pushed forward and he gave a pleased little look at the new man. “Oh, yes. Dragons do not talk where you come from? Curious. I am Temeraire, and this,” The Celestial tilted his head towards Laurence, “is Laurence, my Captain. He speaks as well.”
Said Captain rolled his eyes and got to his feet, brushing off sand with one hand while he held the other out for a handshake. “Forgive him, he thinks he’s adorable.”
“Not in a physical sense, no. They do talk if you know how to listen to them but quite a few people choose not to and would much rather try to curse them, which never works because their hides are far too thick for curses,” Newt rolled his eyes. “I did rather figure he spoke, considering I just heard him speak. I’m Newt- Newt Scamander,” he smiled, glancing down when he heard a chittering from his waistcoat pocket. He’d left his coat at home because it was rather too warm to be bothering with it today and Pickett had taken it upon himself to hide in various pockets over Newt’s person.
“And this is Pickett- do forgive him, he’s quite curious himself. He has some attachment issues,” he smiled a little fondly as he let the Bowtruckle climb onto his hand so that he could see the dragon for himself, letting him hop up on his shoulder. “Temeraire is a wonderful name, by the way. Quite a mouthful, but still a good name. “So- you’re clearly from a different world than me, considering dragons talk and you two seem to be partners. Or...Captain? Like a ship?”
The water pooling around Temeraire’s wings was splashed aside as he hopped out of the water and onto the beach. Where he promptly was covered in sand, and distracted enough to brush a clawed hand against his side. Laurence was there quick enough, helping him along. The size was still strange to him, the fact that without stretching, Laurence could run a hand along Temeraire’s back and up to his head. He let the dragon continue his conversation, while sand was being brushed off the black scales.
“Thank you. People have cursed at me before and it was rather rude, but never did any damage. Acid, though, I should not like to be downwind of that. No.”
Laurence knew the signs of his dragon going off on a tangent, and cut in with a dry laugh. “I am his Captain, yes, I wouldn’t consider him a ship - but we do usually run a crew and dragons aid us in battle at their choice.” His head turned to look at Mr. Scamander, when Temeraire suddenly poked back into the conversation with a delighted, rumbling sound pointed directly at the Bowtruckle. “Oh- I say, what is that?”
Newt lifted his hand to cover himself when the water spray hit him, a grin still plastered on his face as he looked up at the dragon. “Acid? People have thrown acid at you?” he questioned, looking between Temeraire and Laurence, but the former seemed to have been distracted by Pickett. “Oh. He’s a Bowtruckle,” Newt smiled fondly as he let Pickett step back onto his hand. “C’mon. He won’t eat you, don’t be ridiculous. They’re creatures that tend to live on and guard trees that we use for wand wood, which...can often be disastrous. Usually to the Bowtruckle, but occasionally to the wizard. They have incredibly sharp fingers and a tendency to go for the eyes,” he grinned.
The concept of dragons choosing to aid in battle was an interesting one to Newt. He’d never really agreed of the usage of animals in war - many innocent creatures died that way, but he supposed that banning them would be equally as patronising if they could make an informed choice on the matter. “All of these different worlds are certainly an eye opener for somebody like me.”
“Oh, no, not like that.” Temeraire answered breezily, sniffing the air a little right in front of the bowtruckle in question. “One of my fellow dragons can spit it. Sometimes if you’re in formation and the wind shifts…” His mouth curled up to show off his considerably large (but smaller than usual, even still) teeth, as if to grimace.
Laurence debated putting a hand out gently, but knew not to approach creatures he didn’t understand, so he just kept a steady look on the little thing, as if trying to understand it. “You are not alone in that thought, to be sure. Neither of us have seen anything like this, though I know most people here have very limited experience with dragons, as well. Temeraire is normally much larger than this, but they worried about the city structure not being built for such large animals, like ours are. Understandable, but..” He gave Temeraire a wry grin, “frustrating nonetheless for someone accustomed to being 20 tonnes.”
“...Spitting acid,” Newt responded thoughtfully, rubbing his chin. “Would you mind if we met at another time so that I could take notes? See- I make notes of magical species and creatures. When they’re willing, it’s much better to hear it directly from their own mouth - I even managed to befriend a herd of Centaur. They’re not often willing to discuss things with wizards because of how we’ve treated them but in my opinion, it’s rather ridiculous to class something as a ‘non-being’ when it can quite clearly tell you that it is a being,” Newt paused and cleared his throat when Pickett poked him - a little more gently than he could have.
“Apologies, I do have a tendency to- ramble. I’m just rather passionate and I’d love to gather both of your experiences. The Ministry of Magic deems dragons to be absolutely murderous creatures, unwilling to listen to reason - I proved that wrong, but the other wizards insisted on trying to teach them by force rather than by...well, teaching. They underestimate things quite a lot.”
Laurence, often having to keep up with Demane and Emily, or Iskerkia, followed along with only a few slight tilts of his head. Meeting new people had never bothered him, and Temeraire loved the experiences as well, so having someone so passionate ask to study - he wasn’t likely to say no.
But his back went up at the mention of forcing dragons to behave. For all of the faults of his world when it came to dragons - merely letting them live and work, and not thrive in some ways - he could not fathom a Britain that mistreated them. “I should be glad we are here then, Laurence.” Temeraire nudged him with his muzzle, and he reached out to run a hand across the dragon’s head.
“Pardon my- Force.” Laurence was still stumbling over his words, trying very hard to reign in his temper and keep things civil, as Mr. Scamander seemed perfectly reasonable himself. “You may certainly take notes, and we are available for questions so long as we are here.”
“You have to understand that I refuse to have any part in forcing anything to behave,” Newt vaguely waved a hand at the term. “Many of the creatures I look after are endangered because they are considered dangerous - dragons in my world are one of few that escape this through sheer fear of them and their power. I have the only breeding pair of Graphorns, as an example. It’s incredibly difficult to get through to them that creatures are just as important and deserving of love as we are,” he looked down at Pickett, who looked back up at him inquisitively.
“I am sorry, though, I think I’ve somewhat...talked your ear off,” he ducked his head and rubbed the back of his neck. Being both talkative and shy was an odd mixture but ‘odd mixture’ seemed to be Newt in a nutshell. “Feel free to ask me any questions in return.”
Laurence nodded firmly, clapping a hand on Newt’s shoulder gently so that the man did not go into a fit because he worried someone thought he was endangering animals. No one who saw his look at the little bowtruckle on his hand would have assumed that man was capable of harming any such creature.
Temeraire must have noticed it as well, because he was still nosing into the conversation at every advantage. “Hm, good. I should like to hear more of your creatures, if you are willing. Or to see your drawings. I have successfully bred with a Kazilik, which they said might be impossible,” If a dragon could look smug, Temeraire was that dragon. “But I proved them wrong.
Laurence’s face was heating up a little at the mention of it, and he covered his eyes briefly in embarrassment. “Temeraire.” The embarrassment had turned his cheeks pink when he finally looked back at Newt. “Are you proficient in healing of these creatures, as well? Fixing injuries or are knowledgeable in illnesses they might receive?”
Temeraire’s head turned and he perked up, sitting back a little and clearly catching onto Laurence’s meaning. “Oh, yes, Laurence! That is a grand idea.”
Newt jumped slightly when he was touched, blushing when he realised that it was quite literally just that - nothing sinister behind it. “Ah, yes. My drawings are pretty terrible, actually- I just think they’re important in the general scheme of showing people what to expect of the creatures,” he paused, listening to them speak.
“Healing? That’s a large part of what I do, emotional and physical. Physical is easier by far. I’m quite adept at healing spells by now, especially after working around dragons that had excitable tendencies, large teeth and a habit of breathing fire when having fun,” he grinned a little, rubbing the back of his neck. “What idea are you...talking about? Is there something you need? I’m apparently down to work as a...veterinarian, they called it, somebody involved in the care of animals.”
Temeraire was looking downright excited now, his ruff pushed forward as he looked at Newt with wide eyes. It had been a while since he had a good, capable surgeon, and one had simply fallen ahead of him. But Laurence had warned him of the past to not just collect crew, even if that was what he wanted to do. “I have never had a surgeon that was capable of magic,” he replied, simply, glancing at Laurence for permission.
Laurence, always more willing to explain things than Temeraire was, smiled gently. “Part of our crew always involves a surgeon, if we can help it. Dragons are hardy creatures, but only a few are capable of healing them, and as you said - excitable tendencies. Temeraire himself doesn’t breathe fire, so that isn’t something you have to worry yourself over, but it is reassuring to know someone of this world will be capable of helping him in a larger scale than I am, should he fall injured on a mission.”
“A surgeon,” Newt responded thoughtfully. In truth, he’d never successfully been a part of a crew - in any sense of the term, but he decided not to divulge that piece of information. He hardly wanted to embarrass himself even more in front of the dragon and his (admittedly handsome) self-named Captain, so he kept his mouth shut and nodded in response to the question of magic.
“By the looks of my introduction post, there’s quite a few magic users from my universe here already,” he went into his pocket and took out his wand, doing a silent summoning charm on a nearby seashell as a sort of example, holding out his hand to catch it. “Healing spells are more complex, but I suppose it’s lucky that I’ve studied dragons quite thoroughly. I’m certainly willing to help, I just hope I can perform.”
“It’s not a true surgeon, in all honesty.” Laurence admitted, with a little shrug. “It’s more just a term we use for anyone assigned to our crews that’s there to help with injuries or illnesses. Not many people here have experience with large creatures such as Temeraire, save for you and one or two others I’ve heard from briefly. But if it’s too much…” He was too polite to not offer a way out, even though Temeraire would have objected quite loudly. As he so often did.
Laurence followed the seashell with an indrawn breath, his eyes lighting up just a bit. He could see a dragon breathe fire and it was nothing (except rather hot), but this place was still extraordinary enough to surprise him. “If you’d like, I would be happy to buy you a cup of tea or pint of something, and tell you more of our world…?”
Newt smiled, holding out the seashell as an offering. “Either would do me quite nicely, but I'm happy to serve as whatever you need. That being said,” he addressed Temeraire directly, “I hope you don't need any medical assistance any time soon. Not that I'm not confident, I'm just- saying that I'd rather you didn't get hurt,” one day he would learn to think about what he was saying before unintentionally saying something with the wrong meaning. One day.
“I suppose we should all compare notes on dragons, too - if I'm to assist you. I'd hate to make an assumption and be wrong in it,” Newt put his wand away again, looking back to the shopfronts overlooking the beach. “I'm not sure how many of the bars open this early. It might have to be a tea.”
“Tea it is, then. We’ll have to see if we can find the proper kind.” Laurence gave Temeraire a gentle pat, his hand smoothing over the now-smaller ruff. “When you’re done with your swim, you can meet us. Just no entering the shops yourself, even if you’re smaller now.”
Temeraire huffed, and headed back towards the water with his head held high. “Fine, though I’ve always wanted to see what they look like from the inside.”