"Easy, girl. Almost time, is it?" Fang rested a hand on the scales of the anxious, soon-to-be mother dragon, both of them peering down at the large egg cradled in a mound of packed dirt. It quivered just slightly and Fang's grin widened. The dragon shifted closer, nudging it with her large muzzle.
"Careful. Don't wanna break it too early, yeah? Let the bugger find his own way out." The dragon huffed and backed off a little.
Fang wasn't surprised that the dragon seemed to understand her, not to mention listen to her. At the age of fifteen, her natural affinity with the beasts was discovered and she'd been called to attend to the dragons kept stabled near the palace of the royal family.
She'd proven herself in the few months she'd been there that the dragons were content under her care, and she could have them saddled and ready for the warriors who rode them at a moment's notice. Though she wished she could train to be one of those fabled warriors herself, she didn't have the blood right to such a title. Even so, she loved working with the beasts, and it ensured shelter and food for her and her younger sister.
This was, however, going to be the first newborn to be put under her complete care. She would be responsible for all its training as it grew older. She was as eager as the mother dragon to just smash the egg and drag the squirming little thing out. But the stable master was quick enough with his whip for charges far less than harming a newborn dragon. It didn't help that he directed most of his displeasure at Fang, enough for her to wonder if he was somehow intimidated by her natural skill. It also didn't help that she liked to rub it in his face all the more.
Fang took a breath and stroked a hand gently over the warm shell. She wished Vanille were here to watch. She knew the redhead would be terribly upset that she'd missed the event, but Fang couldn't risk leaving at a time like this. Besides, the young girl was likely fast asleep now, exhausted from her duties at the palace, and not everyone had permission to enter the dragon stables. She'd have to sneak her in another time, like usual.
At that moment, Fang heard the familiar grinding sound of the doors on the ground floor opening. Raising a brow, she gave the egg another look before heading over to see who'd come in.
The stables themselves were a creative structure built right into the side of a massive cliff. Ladders and stairs wound their way up the carved out interior, reaching all of the openings that housed the numerous dragons.
Not too far from the bottom of the stable, Fang peered around a column of rock, looking down at the ground floor of the main chamber. She wondered with a twinge of panic if perhaps the stable master had lost his confidence in her and decided to check in. The thought left her mind when she saw a patch of pink hair. None of the other stable workers had that particular shade and she couldn't have been old enough to be a dragon rider.
The girl, possibly around the same age as Fang though she couldn't see her face, stalked through the rock interior, completely ignoring the staircase and heading towards a corner in the back. Numerous torches and spots of crystal kept the place lit, though it was still pretty dim. There were many openings to the caves throughout for the dragons to come and go, but the only light currently outside came from the moon and stars.
Fang thought to call out to her and tell her she couldn't be there, until the girl abruptly spun around and slid to the floor. Her arms wrapped around her legs, drawing them close and burying her face behind her knees. One hand rested on the back of her head, fingers digging into her hair. It was then Fang noticed the shuddering quake across her shoulders. A quiet sound echoed through the cavern.
She was crying.
Vanille cried a lot, so it wasn't something Fang didn't know how to deal with. However, while her younger sister was usually calmed with a warm hug and a few reassuring words, this person had sought solitude on purpose. She wanted to be alone. The stables were a fair distance to walk to and fairly quiet at night. Fang herself would normally be asleep by now, oftentimes in the stable itself.
She thought to give the girl her privacy, but Fang's protective instincts was telling her to keep an eye on her. They were in the middle of a bunch of dragons, after all, albeit most of them asleep. And if the stable master did show up she didn't want to leave the girl to fend for herself, no matter the trouble it would put Fang in.
So she quietly hurried back to check on the dragon and egg to make sure nothing had happened so far, and then returned to her post behind the rock column. There would probably be a lot of chatter from the mother if anything changed, so she didn't think she'd miss anything. The girl hadn't moved, though she was shaking quite a bit. Etro if she wasn't the quietest crier Fang had ever heard, though.
She sat down and leaned her side against the column, setting it between her and the girl to offer some semblance of privacy, continuing to listen to the soft sobs while wondering who the girl was and why she would brave the dragon stables at night, of all places. Surely there were better, safer places to go.
It wasn't long before Fang began to realize how utterly quiet the stables had become. Fang perked up at the sudden silence and peaked out from behind the column. The girl had lifted her head from her knees and was staring out in front of her with a look that was so cold and blank it made Fang feel a little uneasy. She didn't like that look.
Fang watched as another tremor went through her small frame and remembered that it was quite cold in certain spots of the stables. The girl must have been too distraught to remember to wear warmer clothes.
Fang didn't usually notice the cold. She attributed it to spending so much time around the fire-breathing dragons. Vanille, however, pointed out that the reptilian beasts were rather cold themselves when they weren't basking in the sun and Fang just happened to produce an unusual amount of body heat on her own. She'd chuckled at that, but she did take notice when Vanille had to wear extra clothing at times while Fang was content with showing a little skin.
Not far from where she sat was a little alcove she'd taken for herself, a bed and a few possessions laid out in order to keep a close eye on the dragon egg. She went there now to retrieve a blanket and returned to the main chamber.
Fang tossed the heavy fur blanket over her shoulder and leaned out in the open by holding onto the column with one hand. The girl neither flinched nor showed any sign of acknowledgment. Just that same dead stare.
"Oi!" Fang waved a little. The girl's eyes changed focus, looking up at Fang. "Are you alright?" With a start, the girl was on her feet, swiping at her eyes.
"Who are you?" Her voice was raw, but surprisingly strong.
A soft rustle and Fang landed on the ground floor a small distance away. "You can call me Fang," she said, jabbing a thumb at herself. She waited for the girl to introduce herself, but was met only with silence and a bewildered stare.
Fang noticed her clothes then. Though a bit wrinkled, as if she'd been wringing her hands in them all day and night, they were definitely not within the wages of a servant to possess.
"Uh, you have a name? Or do I have to pick one out for you? I'm pretty good with'em."
Her eyes flickered, as though she'd forgotten that's what she was suppose to do. "It's Cl-" Her voice hitched suddenly. She looked to be biting her cheek, refusing to give in to the warring emotions battling through her.
Fang walked closer and, before the girl could protest, wrapped the blanket snug around her shoulders.
"It's a bit worn, but it still does the job. You look like you're freezing." Fang could almost feel the tension bleeding off the pink-haired girl, wondering that she didn't just snap right then and there.
The girl clutched at the blanket, looking Fang over, the question in her eyes. While most days Fang wore the stuffy but durable stable worker uniform, tonight found her only in a loose wrap over a black halter top and shorts. They were rather tattered, various holes and tears showing they'd had better days.
"I'm warm enough. See?" Fang pressed the back of her hand against the girl's cheek. It seemed to startle her and Fang snatched her hand back, forgetting some people weren't as comfortable with touching. She moved to the side to allow some space and plopped down against the wall, patting the ground beside her. It took a few moments, but the girl eventually sat down.
"Rough night, eh?" Fang said, glancing sidelong at her. There was no response. She only tugged the blanket tighter around her and burrowed into it, her head just barely poking out.
Fang looked around the large chamber, searching for something to say. "Have to say I didn't expect to be seeing anyone tonight."
"No one will look for me here." The girl sniffed.
Fang nodded companionably. "Probably right about that." She lifted a brow at her, keeping her eyes gentle but curious. "Who would be looking for you?"
The girl's eyes – blue, Fang noticed – remained downcast. No answer.
Remembering another one of Vanille's exaggerations about her voice being soothing enough to put dragons to sleep, Fang decided to just talk.
"I actually just started working here a few months ago so I don't know too many people. My sister, her name's Vanille, she works at the palace. In the kitchens. Probably knows loads more than I about what goes on in the city. You may have met her once, seeing as she talks to anything that moves. I usually just talk to the dragons," Fang chuckled at herself. "We both lost our families when we were young, but we've stuck together since th-"
"My mother died." The girl said in a voice that was hollow and accompanied by empty silence. She stared blankly ahead before ducking beneath the blanket as if to hide from the world.
A wrenching sob shook her.
"Hey," Fang said softly, reaching an arm out and around the bundled form. "Hey, come here." It took a few gentle tugs before the girl allowed herself to be pulled in to Fang's side. A while later and she had her head buried in Fang's shoulder and clinging to her clothes. Fang held her easily, murmuring softly in her hair, thinking faintly of how the girl smelled like roses. She felt the bitter sting of her own tears, knowing what it was to lose a family.
Eventually the girl's shaking stilled and she pulled away. She huddled back into the blanket, but not before Fang noticed a slight blush on her cheeks.
"Not use to crying, are you?"
She shook her head.
"Nothing to be embarrassed about. Lots of people cry," Fang sniffed, "See? You even got me doing it."
Her blue eyes darted to Fang, then away, fingers fidgeting with the edges of the blanket.
A rumbling growl came from overhead, causing Fang to look up sharply. A smile spread across her face. She stood, dusting herself off, and offered a hand.
"Come on. There's something I want you to see."
The pink-haired girl took her hand, allowing Fang to pull her from her safe cocoon.
...
From cracked and scattered egg shells, the dragon hatchling chirped and squealed noisily at the pair of girls crouched in front of it. Up until now, Fang had instructed the girl to keep her distance and allow the mother dragon time to attend to the newborn.
"What'll you name it?" the pink-haired girl asked, awe in her eyes. She'd been quiet while watching Fang work and the dragon emerge from its shell, though no less fascinated.
Fang smirked, unsure what interested her more, the girl's reaction or the dragon. "Him, not it. And I've already decided on a name." She reached out and stroked a hand down the thin, black-scaled neck, violet eyes peering up at her. "Bahamut."
...
After helping the mother dragon and her newborn settle in, Fang returned to her own personal space where the girl was propped up against the wall next to a small fire – Fang had shown off a little by getting the mother dragon to light it for her. She had the blanket around her still, but appeared outwardly relaxed.
Fang stabbed at the fire with a stick before taking a seat against the wall. The smoke drifted out a small opening into the starry night sky above them.
"You're very good with them. The dragons."
Fang smiled, pleased the girl was willing to talk. "They take to me pretty well, don't they? Most people think you gotta be cruel to get them to listen, maybe since they're big and mean looking, though I'm not sure where they get that idea." The girl gave Fang a look, making Fang laugh. "Okay, maybe I do understand. But all it takes, really, is a gentle hand. Firm, but gentle. It's the same with dogs."
The girl snorted, not believing it was that easy. They fell into a comfortable silence, staring into the warm, crackling glow of flames. A thought came to Fang.
"So. Do I get to know your name now? I haven't thought up of one on my own, yet, and I don't wanna keep thinking of you as 'the girl'."
There was a stretching silence before a slight rustling made Fang turn her head and the girl was on her feet, blanket dropped to the ground. "I should go."
Acting out of reflex, Fang sat up sharply and grabbed her hand in both of hers. "Wait! Er..." The girl's eyes dropped to their hands. Fang loosened her grip but didn't let go. "Sorry. I didn't mean for it to bother you. You don't need to go. I mean," Fang took a breath. "I don't always get a chance to meet new people. I'd like it if you'd stay for a bit."
The girl hadn't lifted her eyes from their hands. A moment and she turned her gaze to the side, cheeks colored, though it may have been from the heat of the fire. "Your hands are rough."
"Oh." Fang suddenly realized how soft hers was. The hand of someone who didn't have to work in order to scrape out a living. "Sorry." She let go.
The girl shifted her weight on her feet, avoiding eye contact. As if making up her mind, she returned to her place against the wall, sitting back down and pulling the blanket around her.
"You said you have a sister?"
Fang's eyes lit up. "Yeah, Vanille. We're not blood related, but we're as close as any family."
"Tell me about her."
Fang looked at the girl, only now catching the small, content smile on her lips, flames dancing in calm eyes. Fang looked away with a smile of her own. And so she talked. About Vanille, about them growing up together. She talked about her work at the stables and how she envied the dragon riders.
Her low voice echoed off the cavern walls, soothing as a running spring. The fire burned down to mere coals. Just beyond Fang's small alcove, the dragons slept peacefully.
"...so long ago I can hardly remember my parents. Not even sure where Vanille and I are from-" A light weight fell into Fang's side, causing her to look down. The girl was sound asleep, her head resting on Fang's shoulder.
Fang chuckled quietly to herself, scratching the back of her head with her free hand. She couldn't remember the last time she'd talked so much. Other than with Vanille. And the dragons. This girl was so quiet, yet her eyes, so expressive against a passive mask, held genuine interest. Fang couldn't help spilling her life's story. It felt good to finally talk to someone about the things on her mind.
Fang gathered the girl in her arms and rolled to her knees and feet, grunting a little from the weight. The girl didn't look to be all that heavy. A few steps and she set her gently on her bedroll. She stirred only slightly.
"Go ahead and get some rest, yeah?" Fang whispered quietly, tucking the blanket securely around her. "It's gonna be tough, but it'll get better. Promise." Tomorrow wasn't going to be any easier for the girl, the reality of her loss being more prominent in the light of day. But for now, even just for a little while, she could have some peace. "And maybe you'll tell me more about yourself sometime. When you're ready."
Fang stamped out the glowing remains of the fire and sat down against the wall. Making herself comfortable, her eyes easily drifted shut after a long night.
It was just before she lost consciousness that the smallest of whispers reached her ears.
"Thank you, Fang."
...
When Fang woke the next morning to the sounds of a busy stable, the girl was already gone, blanket folded neatly in her place. It was later in the day that she listened to Vanille, as they snuck into the stables to see Bahamut, talking about how the queen had passed away to illness, leaving behind her two daughters. Apparently there had been a bit of a panic when the eldest had disappeared suddenly during the night. Then the redhead had squealed in delight at the sight of the baby dragon, making the mother grumble in irritation, and Fang pushed the bit of gossip from her mind.
It wasn't until she went to sleep, pulling the rose-scented blanket over her head, that she shot straight up when realization hit her.
Author's Notes:
Prompt 41: Medieval AU, where Lightning is a princess and Fang is the resident stable-girl (for dragons.)
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