I ask you not as emperor, but as a father. I do not demand you become her protector, I humbly request that you become her friend. -- Anon Guest
You know the story of the Lindwyrm. Or rather, you think you know it. You know the most of it. Stories change with each teller. Some add. Some subtract. Names are lost, times and places blur until all that's left is the phrase, Once upon a time...
By then, almost all of the truth is gone. It's true that there was a ruler. It's true that he and his bride could not conceive. It's true that they sought out a magical solution. It's true about the flowers, and the Empress eating both of them. It's true that she was warned not to do that.
The son they desired was bonny and strong, and his twin was just as fearsome as the legends say. The Lindwyrm did not slither away into the forest and become a wild thing. No. The Empress was more sensible and sensitive than that. She raised the monster as she would any other child. Loved and sheltered and protected. The world, after all, was full of knives and misunderstanding.