A Dragon's Hoard
Hannah Noel
Lavinia did not consider herself a motherly figure of any sort. By most accounts, she was quite the opposite. She was fierce and swift, each stroke of her wings brought sweeping terror to the villages below. In her youth, she felled armies with the rage of a wildfire and the deadly precision of a lightning strike. Her roars made the forests shake. She was a bane, a terror, a nightmare.
Yet, somehow, she found herself in the possession of four young human girls.
Well, one wasn’t so young anymore. Selia was leaving. Something in Lavinia stung at the reminder. Even as she watched the girls surround Selia and her new husband, saying their goodbyes and wishing them well, Lavinia could not stop the rush of protectiveness. It was silly, she supposed. Vince was a good man; he truly loved Selia, and he agreed to let Lavinia question and pry at every aspect of his life for proof of the fact. Even though the man’s knees had shaken in Lavinia’s presence, his hand clutching Selia’s in a white-knuckled grasp, he had answered her questions, looking her in the eyes like the polite young man he was. It was endearing.
Nevertheless, he was taking one of her girls away.
Lavinia was not a motherly figure, and these girls were not her hatchlings. They were smaller and far more fragile than young dragons. They were defenseless without her. Even as an adult, Selia’s calloused hands could still be sliced by one of the dull knives used for paring vegetables. If anything, they were her hoard. Nobody messed with a dragon’s hoard.
In her earlier years, she collected gold and jewels, treasures, and trophies of battle. They piled high in the cavern where her girls grew. She spent her quiet days gazing with pride at her heaps of prized possessions. But Maria cut her leg tripping over a ceremonial sword, and the weapons were removed. A toddling Carmen swallowed an emerald, and Lavinia’s jewels and tiny shiny things were hidden. Erina was temporarily turned into a shrub while washing dishes, and every ancient item of dubious origin was sent tumbling down the side of her mountain. The culprit was a single cursed chalice, but Lavinia refused to take risks. Little by little her girls replaced her hoard. Still, it hurt to send her old things away.
But her girls brought new things with them.
Mountain wildflowers, plucked and cradled by little hands then piled in the corners made the air smell sweet and clean. Chairs and a table replaced stumps and boulders as the girls learned to craft and trade with nearby villages. Maria was talented in tapestry, Carmen had a love of painting, and Erina tinkered with gears and gadgets. The stony walls, once so barren and cold, became vibrant and echoed happy voices. Where piles of useless treasure once lay, handmade trinkets now adorned the ground.
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The older she got, the more Selia wanted to be a swordswoman. At first, Lavinia wouldn’t allow it. Even hatchlings have scales to guard them. What did she, a mere human, have?
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An iron will and a rebellious streak. Selia laughed every time she told the stories of her many—and many failed—attempts to practice that forbidden art. Lavinia eventually relented.
She watched her girls practice their talents, learn new things, fail, and fly. She’d never had a better hoard.
And now one of them was leaving.
Who was she trying to fool? These girls were her hatchlings, not a hoard. A hoard doesn’t leave unless it’s thrown away or stolen. Selia chose to leave.
Lavinia turned away from the happy gathering with a huff, heading deeper into her cavern, not noticing the light footsteps following after her.
“Hey,” Selia said, “what are you doing? The party’s back there.”
Selia stepped around to face Lavinia.
Selia’s joyous smile faded slightly. “Is everything alright?”
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“I’m simply tired,” Lavinia said. “You should return to the others. I’m sure your husband will miss you.”
“He can wait a few minutes.”
Lavinia watched the girl shift in place. From Lavinia’s perspective, Selia looked nearly as small as the day they met. Selia glanced at the entrance and the jovial wedding party. Then she glanced back to the cavern, where her old life had been packed away.
“Were you going to let me leave without saying goodbye?”
Lavinia hesitated.
“Are you mad at me for leaving?” Selia’s voice was small.
“Of course not!” Lavinia answered immediately. “Never.”
“You’ve been acting so strange. I didn’t know what to think!”
“Today is about you and Vince and the life you will forge together. You need not concern yourself with me.”
“But I want to! I—” Selia’s voice wobbled. “Do you think I’m not ready?”
Lavinia lowered her head to meet Selia’s eyes. “Though I’ve watched you grow, from my perspective, it sometimes seems like nothing’s changed at all.”
“Well, I suppose you are very old.” Selia cracked a smile.
“Hush,” she said with a chuckle. “It was never going to be easy to let you go. You’re one of mine. But you are ready to leave. It’s your turn to find something to treasure as deeply as I have treasured you. And you’ve made a good start.” Lavinia’s eyes softened. “I’m so proud of you. I’ll just miss you dearly.”
“I’ll come back to visit, of course. You know I will.” Selia said.
“You’re my family.”
“You have a world to conquer.” Lavinia looked at her girl with a sad smile. “And hatchlings don’t come back.”
Selia stood tall and confident. “Then I won’t be your hatchling,” she declared. “You’ll be my hoard. It’s never easy for a dragon to part with her hoard. You told me so yourself. I’m declaring it right now! You’re all part of my hoard. My mother, my sisters, and Vince. I have no intention of leaving any of you behind.”
Lavinia blinked, stunned for a moment, then laughed loudly. She hooked her chin over Selia’s shoulder and pulled her close. It was the closest thing to a hug she could offer. Selia returned the gesture, throwing her arms around Lavinia’s neck.
Not many would consider Lavinia to be a motherly figure. Lavinia preferred it that way. That side of herself was reserved only for her girls. Her hoard.
Her family.
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