The Dragon’s Hoard

The dragon stared at the toddler in front of him. Wide brown eyes in a pinched face stared back, leaking silent tears. He looked around for any sign of her keepers, but she appeared to be completely alone. He huffed in annoyance, and she cowered away from him. This was the perfect ending to an already horrible couple of days. He had left the Dragonlands after placing dead last in his bracket of the Proving, and the winning dragons had plundered his hoard. All he had left were the items that had been shoved into a bag of holding that hung around his neck. Already physically weaker from the loss of his hoard and his beating in the Proving, he had flown two days straight through what appeared to be a hurricane to get somewhere where he might be able to replenish the items he had lost. He was hungry, tired, worn out, sore, and absolutely in no mood to deal with a lost brat.

The law was very clear on this issue though. Any dragon encountering a lone juvenile of any sentient race must assist in finding the adults, or other means of care and safety for the child. The trees rustled as the winds picked, the storm from the hurricane having followed him inland. The child looked up as the first drops of rain made their way through the canopy.

Balidor assessed his current form and could think of no way to safely move the child with his mouth or claws, so with a heartfelt groan he shifted form into that of a human. His blue scales formed armor fashioned after some he had taken from misguided humans who had tried to attack him in his youth. His hair fell in spiky blue locks around his face, and the child popped her thumb in her mouth as she watched unashamedly. He looked around hopefully one more time as the rain began to pick up, and still seeing no sign of anyone else in the forest, held out his arms to the little girl. Her hair curled into ringlets from the dampness and they bobbed as she toddled shyly towards him. He picked her up and headed off at a run to a nearby cave he had scouted out as a temporary residence earlier that evening.

He made it to the cave able to keep the child mostly dry. He however, was fairly soaked and completely miserable. He put the little girl down as soon as he got into the cave and went about making a fire to warm up the space. As he hit the flint and steel together he wished yet again that he had a more useful dragon breath.

The girl’s stomach growled and she gave a little whimper. Balidor took off his bag and reached in. He was pretty sure there was a magical jug in there that created different types of liquid. Maybe one of those would help fill the child’s stomach until he could sort out a better solution. He pulled out the jug and said, “food.” It seemed to fill with something, so he took the lid off and peered inside. It was a thick creamy yellowish color that he recognized as a substance called mayonnaise. He knew that humanoids ate it if not much else about the substance, so he put it down in front of the girl. Two chubby hands went into the jar and into her mouth.

Satisfied that the child was suitably seen to, and wanting to get out of the confining human form, Balidor returned to his dragon form and curled up by the fire. He had met the letter of the law, and if the child wandered off into the night, well, that was a responsibility he was better off without. He had figured that she would be afraid of his dragon form, so it was a bit of an unpleasant surprise when he felt greasy hands on his tail as the girl clambered into the space between his tail and his body. Too exhausted to care much he settled back and let the drowsiness wash over him. As he drifted off to sleep a small hand brushed over one of his scales as it sparkled like blue sandstone in the firelight and a tiny voice said, “Perty.”

***

Balidor sagged in relief at the sight of the village in the distance. The past three days had been even worse than the beat down flight through a hurricane. He had woken up to a stench unmatched by any he had ever known and the wails of an unhappy child. Apparently a jar of mayonnaise was NOT the thing to feed to a small child. Especially a child who would be sharing a sleeping space with you. Transforming into his human form did not remove the filth from his body, so he put the jar back in the bag, vowing to never conjure mayonnaise again, held the child at arms length, and walked them both straight into the nearest body of moving water that he could find. The carnage in the cave he left for nature to deal with. After the stream had washed the mistakes of the night before and one unsalvageable nappy away, he carried the comparatively clean little girl into a sun warmed clearing and set her down to dry in the summer sun while he took to the sky in his dragon form. He had spotted the village easily but still without a safe way to carry such a fragile being he knew that it would be a several day walk.

During that walk he had learned that when she scrunched up her face in a certain way, he had seconds to set her down if he didn’t want a repeat of that first morning. He also found out that she would only eat fish if it was cooked, and she was very happy to eat berries and honey. He only fed her the berries that grew on the bramble vines because he knew that those were safe to eat in his human form, but he wasn’t sure about the small round berries that grew on some of the bushes. She laughed whenever they came into a clearing and the sun made his scale armor sparkle. She would pat the scales and say, “Perty. Perty,” and smile brightly at him. But she also insisted on sleeping curled up in the space where his tail curled around his body, and apparently dragonhide is impervious to almost everything except for toddler elbows and feet. She also liked to move his face around like she was molding clay when he was in his human form, and it was rather distracting as he was trying to carry her through a dense forest.

But they had made it at last to the village, and he could find her family or kin here, and be off on his way to rebuild his hoard and start building back his strength and power for the next Proving. It was a bidecadal competition, so he had plenty of time if he started working now.

He knocked on the door to a little thatched roof cottage on the outskirts of the village, and a merry looking round woman only about twice as tall as the little girl opened the door. “Oh my,” was all she said.

“I found this child lost in the forest and wanted to return her to her people.”

“Oh, bless you lad. You’re not from around here are you? You went in the wrong direction. This little mite must be from the city by the sea. She’s human for sure or at least she’s not one of the small folk, and they are the closest humans around.”

She must have read the disappointment on his face because she continued, “She’s a sweet little thing though. If you need to leave her here with us, we can make her a foundling home here.”

“No,” Balidor said, massaging his temple with the hand that wasn’t holding the girl. “I am law bound to try to get her back to her family and kin, and since I know now where that might be I have to take her there. Thank you for the information, and have a good day.”

He turned to go, but she called out, “Wait!”

Balidor turned back to her and raised an eyebrow when she didn’t say anything else. “Yes?” He prompted.

“Meaning no offense,” she said, clearly aware that he could cause a lot of trouble in this little village if he decided to, “but it’s a fair journey from here, and you don’t seem to have much more than that one little bag. The sweet pea will need more supplies for a journey like that.”

She was right. He had kept her alive on the journey here, but for another week? He was not equipped for another week with a toddler. He gritted his teeth and pulled a platinum and sapphire ring out of his bag. He would lose the ability to use his breath weapon if he gave away any more of his hoard, but what else could he do? The woman barely glanced at the ring, before her cheeks colored and she pushed his hand away.

“Oh, put that away love. We’re not going to rob you blind just for helping out a lost little ‘un. We’ve got plenty to go around here and then some. Mable! Therin!” She called back over her shoulder, “go round to the folks and tell them that we got an outsider helping a lost tallfolk child find her home. Tell them she’s about Hannah’s size for clothes.”

Two small figures squeezed by calling “ ‘Kay Mum!” Pausing only a moment to gape at Balidor before hurrying off towards the village.

“And now for you, fine sir. I don’t suppose you’ve much experience with changing a nappy?

***

The city should have been a welcome sight, but it filled Balidor with unease as he approached it. The Halfling village had been open and fresh smelling, filled with happy, smiling, helpful, people. There was laughter and jokes as people brought food, clothes, and other supplies they thought would be helpful in traveling with a small child. The sling carrier had been a life saver, even if the small folk had all laughed uproariously to see the little girl gleefully swinging her feet while strapped to the torso of the blue haired warrior. But this city was different. The large wall around it gave it a closed off, trapped feeling, and there was a certain heavy feeling to the air of a people living with perpetual struggle.

The guards stopped him at the gate asking after his business in the city. They eyed him warily when he answered that he was just trying to find the lost girl’s family and then pointed him towards the city guard barracks. “But don’t you be causing no trouble!” One of them called after him as he headed off down the street. Balidor’s unease grew as he noted the areas of dirty streets and multitude of hungry faces on children scurrying unaccompanied in the streets. The city guard was no help. They didn’t have any missing persons or kidnapping reports for the past three months, and they had no other way of finding out if the child was even from this area. They suggested that he visit the foundling house and talk with the matron there.

Balidor trudged down the street, listening to the pleasant babble of the girl as she waved her arms and kicked her feet in her carrying sling. He stopped and stared at a joyless, weathered wood building with a plain sign that read “Foundling House,” above the door. There was a large bell next to the door that he rang.

A woman of indeterminable age answered the door. Her eyes were young, but her hair was streaked with gray around the temples. “Oh dear,” she stated when she saw him with the little girl. “Do come in, I expect that we’ll need to have a conversation.”

Balidor followed the woman in and to what he supposed was her office. She introduced herself as the Matron, and invited him to tell her his story. She agreed that finding the child’s parents would be quite the ordeal, but that if they were looking for her they were likely to look at the foundling house. She would house the child for a year to give the parents time to appear before she started trying to find a permanent placement for her.

She was honest and up front that though they were a bit crowded and underfunded at the moment, they didn’t beat or starve the children, and they tried to ensure that the children went to homes that had good intentions. They had a primary school where the children got a very basic education, but she didn’t foresee the little girl still being there when she was primary school age because happy sweet little girls always seemed to be in demand. She asked him what the child’s name was.

“Lahlie,” he said, surprising himself. He shrugged and figured it fit her as well as anything else he had heard humans call themselves. “Lahlie.” He said with certainty. “Do you need her things?” The matron shrugged.

“She will be issued a standard foundling uniform, and any clothes or other items will be sold to help with the expenses. We find that it helps keep down the behavior issues when all of the children have the same things.” She seemed sad but resigned as she said that.

Balidor nodded slowly, taking off the sling. He was struggling to stay in his human form as his dragon form kept struggling to take over. He passed the little girl to the woman who smiled a little and thanked him for taking care of her for the time he had. Lahlie looked at him puzzled as he pulled away.

“Perty?” She asked, reaching one of her tiny hands out to him. She began to struggle in the matron’s arms as he turned away. “Perty! Peeeeerrrrrrtyyyyy!” She wailed. He knew that he should keep walking. One step after the other. He just needed to make it to the door. “Perty.” It was quiet this time. Sad. Abandoned.

***

Balidor looked over his cave. He had finally finished the system of tunnels that led into the side of the mountain. He had been in residence long enough that the crystals and sapphires were beginning to dot the walls of the tunnels.

“Perty?” Balidor turned and faced the grinning five-year-old. Her curls were down to the middle of her back and her grin was missing a front tooth on the bottom row. “I made you a present.” She handed him a piece of parchment. It showed a little girl holding the hand of a blue armored figure sporting a shock of blue hair. At the top in very shaky childish print were the words, “my family.”

Balidor looked at the picture, surprised at the amount of power and strength that surged through him. “Thank you Lahlie,” he said, grinning as only a dragon with a growing hoard can grin, “it is my greatest treasure.”