Lukas sighed a bit as the dragon crawled on his arm, twisting the limb back and forth to accommodate its wriggling. His arm urned a bit wherever the creture stepped, but the skin was already caloused from his training with the Salamander.
Salamanders were a strange species, somewhat rarer than other dragons. They were wingless, for one, and much smaller. And they resided in fire, coming out sparingly, preferring the flames' warmth and energy to the chill air.
This one in particular, an adolescent male, had been a gift from his father. The man was a profressional in dealing with dragons, or as professional as one could be considered when they were working in secret out of the woods near Trondheim, surviving only on what they could scavenge, hunt, or trade for. Lukas had learned the art from his father, being raised around the reptilian creatures from a very young age, and had learned to care for them. Nearly a year before, he had been given the salamander. He held the memory close to his heart, it being one of the last fond ones he had.
Times were getting harder. They were running out of funds and bartering material was scarce. And only a few months after Lukas had received his dragon, they had been found out. Hunters, vicious warriors from the south, came for them. They left his father with a fatal wound from a crossbow, and the surrounding areas in worse condition, having burned a considerable portion of the forest in their chase. "Go south," was his father's final words of advice. "Head for Bergen, keep yourself safe, and protect that Salamander."
Lost in his own mind, Lukas was too consumed with his thoughts to notice when the dragon climbed from his arm and scuttled back in the nearly dead flames, nuzzling itself into the ember-ridden firewood. It was the rumbling of the ground that pulled him out of his internalized musings, his head snapping around abruptly to stare at the hill. His usually placid blue eyes widened in horror, watching as his friend came bolting over the edge, headed straight for where he was seated.
"Matthias, wha' the hell?"
"Ge' outta th' way!" The boy flung himself onto the ground in front of Lukas, spikey blond mess of hair shifting in the light breeze that blew through the clearing. The earth-shaking thumps continued to draw nearer, until the bulky green mass of dragon peaked its head over the hill. It sniffed at the air, picking up Matthias's scent and turning its gaze onto him. Satisfied that it had won their little game, it turned in circles a couple of times, before curling up on the solid, frost bitten earth.
A loud, joyous laugh rung out. Matthias pushed himself up, staring to the hill. The dragon watched him quietly, tendrils of smoke seeping out of its nostrils, mixing in with the condensation.
"Ya name 'im yet?" Lukas queried. He pushed a few loose strands of pale blond hair behind his ear as he spoke. Looking at him, Matthias could tell that his head was elsewhere, but he answered nevertheless.
"'M thinkin' abou' callin' 'im Torben. Whaddaya think?"
Lukas nodded gently, not truly paying much attention, but figuring that the boy could probably come up with a good name.
Over the hill slinked another dragon, pale blue and more serpentine. Though it was smaller than the emerald European that had been claimed by Matthias, Berwald's had turned out to be the more aggressive of the two. "It's in the nature," Lukas had commented when the frost dragon's temper had first shown its unfriendly self. "Females're a lo' nastier." Berwald came with her, an authoritative hand planted firmly against her side.
"Ya brought the leaves, righ'?" called Matthias, hands cupped around his mouth.
"Ja!" His hand shot up in the air, in it a small leather sack. He descended the steep slope, the dragon staying behind and settling down on the crest with her green companion. Her sitting posture was prouder, more regal than the European's, who had lain down like a sleepy dog in front of a fire place. The Frost crossed her front feet over one another, keeping her plated head held aloft still.
Berwald tossed the sack to his brother and plopped down next to him, landing with a soft thud on the firm ground. "Sure ye got 'nough there?"
"It'll do for now, ja." He yanked the tightly wound string off of the sack's neck, tossing it aside. He shifted into a squatting position and reached into it.
"Wha' is it?" Lukas stared at the dark green leaf that Matthias held between his thumb and forefinger. It had ruffled, crinkling sides, but it stilled looked pretty fresh for the season.
"I got it for ya burns," Matthias explained, waving his free hand lazily towards Lukas's arm. Taking the cue, the smaller boy pushed his sleve up slightly, high enough to expose one of the burned splotches on his skin, but still covering him enough to keep him sufficiently warm. Matthias stuffed the leaf into his mouth and began to chew it gently, receiving a wary glance from his burned patient. "Wha' d'ya plan on doin' wit' tha-"
Lukas's question was cut off by a whine of disgust as the other boy pressed the lightly chewed leaf onto a flayed patch of skin. "Tha's how ya use 'em!" declared Matthias with pride. Lukas continued to whimper and groan, squimish to the thought of having an arm covered with leaves and saliva, but aware that despite his protests, the remedy would be applied sooner or later.
Berwald, seemingly oblivious to the outburst from beside him, had pulled a satchel from his belt, from which he had removed a dagger and flat stone. He grunted quitely with each stroke, sharpening the small blade to his desired sharpness. "'N we got s'me mussels. Not 'xactly th' best season f'r 'em, bu' ye take what ye can get."
Embers flicked up into the night air among the smoke coming from the remade fire. Two of the boys were huddled next to each other still, closer to the fire now, trying to conserve the warmth. In the three months since they had been together, Lukas had refused all offers of shelter, choosing instead to remain in his improvised forest campsite. On the more temperate nights like these, Berwald and Matthias would spend the night with him, glad for the fresh air and stars over their heads, though admittedly missing the warmth of their small cabin.
Having already finished their small supply of mussels, Berwald had moved over to help Lukas remove the plants from his arms. They had dried well enough, although it was obvious that the smaller boy had never applied any such remedy before; He had plastered them on too generously, as opposed to covering only the spots in the most critical condition. Matthias had left them to their business, running off a bit deeper into the woods with a sizable branch in tow. "I wanna see if they'll go af'er it," he'd explained before going, urging his own dragon to follow him with a sharp nudge of an elbow to the beast's side.
"He's not 'xactly th' brightest," Lukas murmured, wincing as the leaf he was removing yanked harshly on the arm hair that had stuck to7 its underside. Whatever sap-like fluid came out of those plants was a hassle to get off, but it certainly worked; The treated areas of his arms were no longer so blistered and calloused.
"Ja…" Berwald nodded his absent-minded agreement. "Bu' 'e's m'older brother, y'know? 'N I guess I love 'im, no matter 'ow stupid 'e gets sometimes. 'E practic'lly raised me since we lost our mother." The words trickled out slowly, choppy and not exactly thought through. But nevertheless, Lukas could tell that they had come from the heart.
Berwald was the first to break the silence that followed. "Ye don' seem yerself t'night. Everythin' alrigh'?" Lukas, of course, was on the quiet side, but he had never seen him so silent. He couldn't help but watch him as he thought, wondering what might be going on inside of his head. Perhaps something was troubling him, or maybe he simply wasn't in the mood for chatter. Whatever it was, he figured it couldn't hurt to ask.
Lukas shook his head, thin blond curl bobbing from side to side. "Somet'in' feels… Off. Can't qui' place it. Somet'in' bad." He couldn't find the words in him to explain it, and before he could try again, Matthias came bounding over the hill, eyes wild, his coat torn in several places from running through some sort of bramble. The thundering steps followed him, faster than usual, almost like a stampede.
"What 'n earth happ'ned t'ye?"
The usually confident boy responded shakily, still catching his breath. "Someone's comin'."
He had been an idiot. A naive idiot, too eager to settle down to consider the chance that this would happen, that his past would come back to haunt him. But there it was, storming through the woods with wagon in tow, armed and drunk on bloodlust, burning their own path through the barren trees and underbrush.
"Ya have t' get out." It was a command, and Lukas intended on making sure it was carried out. "Matthias, you're the fastest, get t' th' cabin an' grab all th' supplies ya can fit into a bag. Ber, go wake up tha' girl'a yours an'get her ready t'move."
"Who the hell're they?" Matthias questioned, obvious panic seeping into his tone. He wasn't exactly the person for a crisis, very shaky and unsure of himself in emergencies.
Lukas pondered whether or not to lie to them, say it was just raiders, but quickly decided against it. Better to scare them than underwhelm them. "Dragon hunters. If I'm right, th' same one's who ran me out 'f Trondheim, an' killed my father." That certainly got them moving.
Matthias returned with a sack of supplies in under ten minutes, just in time to watch the action unfold. The first arrow came without warning, the snap of a crossbow ringing out through the air. Lukas fell backwards from his squating position in front of the fire. The spotted Salamander that had been wrapped around his out stretched arm had been thrown to the side, a single arrow shot clean through; An easy kill.
"Luke!" Berwald had the bag thrust into his arms roughly. He staggered back a bit, watching his brother dive for the smaller boy. Taking the initiative, he rushed to the bulky emerald creature and began to wrap the leather strap which served as its tie around the dragon's neck, securing it with a sloppy but sturdy knot.
The band of hunters had already set their sights on Lukas, much to the boy's dismay. It seemed this more about finishing what they had started over a year ago than it was about picking off the two new prey they had 6cornered. Matthias had launched his own counter-attack now, kicking and shoving through the tangle of bodies, reaching out to try and get a hold on his friend. "Matt… Matthias! Ge' out! Go!"
"I'm not leavin' ya here!" He kicked at the ankles of another hunter. It wasn't a big party, really, around 10 men, but it was enough to overwhelm his efforts.
"Ya have t' leave, I'll be fine, I promise!"
It was then that arms wrapped around both of them. Berwald plucked his brother from the ground with ease, wincing slightly as the boy's frantic heels slammed into him again and again, wriggling about in search of an escape without success. He dropped him down onto the European, between its lengthy neck and raised shoulder blades, kicking the beast's leg to send it off. Matthias's arms flung around the dragon's neck as it lifted, too terrified of the sudden motion to think about what may be happening to Lukas. Berwald took the same position on the female, and soon enough they were both in the air, high above the threat of the hunter's weapons, headed northwest.
The arms which had ensnared Lukas were not so friendly. One of the group, a bulky, bearded man with a cruel face had beaten his way through the bickering of his associates to grab him, dragging him off towards their wagon. He was thrown in carelessly, hitting the wooden side with a dull thud. The doors closed, and in the darkness, he heard a lock slamming shut.
Matthias stared down from his perch sullenly, unsure of what was ahead. I'm going to find him, he declared to himself. Not much of a plan, but as good as anything. I promise Lukas, wherever you are, I'll find you, and you'll be okay. It was a promise he intended on keeping.
I'm really glad that people seem to be enjoying this AU! I actually nearly scrapped the idea a couple of times, I being a bit of a failure at writing animal anatomy (particularly draconic), but I just sort of took to the plot immediately, and I'm having a lot of fun writing it, so thanks everyone for the support.