The young girl stumbled through the snow-covered forest. What clothes she had were worn and thin, and ill-suited for the cold Norse winters, and she shivered as a chilly breeze brushed past her. Her boots, though thick, weren't fur-lined, and her toes were cold as ice; her fingers were similarly cold in the absence of gloves. Her simple tunic-like dress hung loosely on her small, thin frame, and her leggings weren't nearly thick enough to block out the chill. Tears spilled out of her eyes and her nose ran, but all she could think of was that she was cold and hungry, and her mother wasn't there.
"Máthair!" she cried, sniffling and hiccupping in her sobs. Her teeth chattered and her lips were beginning to take on a purplish hue, slowly going to blue.
"Máthair!" she called again. This was not Éire, and her mother should have been the only one around who could understand Gaeilge, but she heard no mother's frantic answering call.
The child shuffled haltingly through the gathering snow, the snowflakes dancing around her face almost tauntingly. Where she had lived in Éire, there had never been any snow, and this strange, cold, white phenomenon was new to her. Her mother, who had always spoken of this place, knew of its cold, but as poor as they were, foreigners barely getting by in a strange land, the clothes the child wore were the best she could do.
When she crested the hill she had struggled up, the girl found herself overlooking a small clearing, a bowl in the bumpy forest ground. There, one lone tree stood, its branches thick but bare. In summertime, with all of its leaves, it would have provided great shade; as it was, it was the only foreseeable shelter from the growing snowstorm. The girl stumbled over to it and fell to the dirt underneath its branches, curling up into a little ball. Her little shoulders heaved as she let out choking, halting sobs, tears running down her face and wetting the dirt. Slowly she became quiet as she drifted into uneasy, unhappy sleep.
A snuffling near her ear woke her up. She sat up, rubbed her red, tired eyes, and wiped her nose with her sleeve, still sniffling. A bluish-black creature about her size looked at her curiously, its head cocked to the side as if asking a question. Its pale green eyes stared at her, inquiring and inquisitive rather than hostile and menacing. She reached out a trembling hand to touch it, and it nuzzled its nose against her palm, tickling her hand. The child gasped when a much larger version of her new friend entered her vision. Unlike the smaller one, this one was more guarded and cautious, though it seemed to sense that the child was helpless and no threat. It poked and prodded her with its nose, then snorted, satisfied, and sat back on its haunches. It regurgitated some pulpy, chewed up fish for its child, then coughed up half of a fish for the little girl. She dug into it eagerly, ignoring in her hunger her gag reflex triggered by the repulsive taste. When the two children, girl and creature alike, had finished their meal, the mother settled down, curling up in the snow.
"An tú dragan, nach an tú?" she whispered. The mother looked at her, her eyes- pale green like her child's- wise and knowing.
"An mé Davin," the girl said. She reached her hand to the mother's nose, and the dragon allowed the girl to touch her.
"Ainmneoidh mé tú Ira," she said, and turned to the child. "Agus tú, Réalta." The baby dragon pranced in the snow, oblivious to the cold, being a creature of fire.
Ira snagged her child, then pulled Davin over, and settled both girls next to her warm belly, wrapping them with her tail and covering them with her wing. The sudden change in temperature made Davin's especially cold extremities hurt as she slowly thawed from two days spent in the freezing winter in thin clothing. But, for the first time in a long time, she was warm and safe.
So...this is my first post on FanFiction, but not necessarily my first fan fiction. I don't imagine many people will read this, but I'll post it anyways.
Oh yeah, if you couldn't tell (which, looking back, is understandable, because it's not intuitively obvious), the two dragons are supposed to be Night Furies. It's a mother-daughter pair.
The language she's speaking is Gaelic. I don't speak Gaelic (though I'd like to) so the translation is probably really bad, but it's the best I can do. Here's what it's supposed to say in English:
Máthair – Mother
Éire – Ireland
Gaeilge – Gaelic
An tú dragan, nach an tú? – You're a dragon, aren't you?
An mé Davin. – I'm Davin.
Ainmneoidh mé tú Ira. Agus tú, Réalta. – I'll call you Ira. And you, Réalta.
(FYI: Réalta = star. I don't think Ira means anything in Gaelic.)