"It's official. I hate school!"
Molly lay on the cold floor of the cave, the cool stone seeping pleasantly through her thin, yellow summer dress, that had long ago belonged to her mother. The sun streamed in through the mouth of the cave, illuminating the various piles of money and assorted nick-knacks that littered the space.
Tiny dust motes swirled in ever changing circles around her head, shining momentarily in the sunlight before winking out of sight again.
Her face was scrunched into a petulant pout as she frowned in Smaug's general direction.
"Are you even listening to me? Gods, Smaug, you're a terrible listener. If I go hunting tonight, find us a nice boar, will you listen to me?"
She pushed herself up onto her elbows, long brown hair slipping gently over her shoulders, tugged softly by the wind and gravity as she turned to face him.
He was asleep.
"Stupid bloody dragon, ignoring me.." She stood up, dusting down her dress and stretching languorously, cat-like in the sunlight. Making her way to the mouth of the cave, she pulled a worn handbag out from behind a rock, noiselessly scooped some gold into it and scampered down the mountain towards the nearer of the two nearby villages.
"All they do is ask me silly questions, and even then they don't tell me why I'm wrong, if I am. Is it so bad to want to be helped instead of being constantly ridiculed and ostracised for being me? Gods above, I cannot TAKE IT ANYMORE!" She huffed out a melodramatic sigh, throwing her hands up in the air and letting them flop down beside her.
"And Jim has been bothering me again, I just want that big bag of scales and fire to sort him out for once and for all. Is it really that much to ask...?"
She sighed again, long and loud.
It had been building inside her for a while, growing in pressure over the weeks since the Easter break.
She hated Easter.
And Christmas.
Religion in general baffled her. A mighty God that created every creature and then forsook them, banished to live in a world full of boring lessons and dragons that didn't listen to her, and made children live in caves without their mothers? It just didn't seem right.
And they said some saint or other had killed the last dragon centuries ago.
So she didn't believe a word written in that book old book of half truths and assumptions.
"...And they say I make up ridiculous stories! A dragon stealing a mountain from a load of dwarves is much more likely than a bush that didn't burn even though it was clearly on fire, or parting the seas, or making a river run blood. At least they know dragons exist!"
She continued grumbling until she came to a stop at the very bottom of the mountain, enveloped by a thick, almost tangible mist.
"H-Hello?" She called out nervously, though she knew that all she had to do was scream and Smaug would come to her rescue.
Stupid dragon.
"Please, is anyone there? I seem to be lost in the fog, and I can't find my way home..."
She glanced around her, sensing figures in the blinding mist that was so bright, yet so very thick that nothing could be seen clearly.
Reaching almost noiselessly into the bag, she pulled out a wicked looking blade and grasped it firmly in her right had, whilst curling in on herself to ensure she appeared as small and weak as possible.
The element of surprise was on her side, after all.
"P-please? Help me, I'm lost!"
There!
Movement to her left. Turning her head imperceptibly, she observed the bulky figure of a large man shift through the swirling fog towards her.
To her right, three more circled closer.
Five, in total, then.
Oh yes, there was the fifth, that had been staying out of reach in front of her. They'd been preying on the area for weeks now, and this was the first time she had come face to face with them. She smiled slightly.
A gang of sorts, roaming the countryside in search of the rich or the greedy, they had finally heard tales of the mountain, which she herself had cultivated, stuffed full of riches beyond belief and anyone's for the taking. Quite the treasure trove, or so she had put about.
She had deliberately left out the part about the Fire drake.
"So, little girly. Out all alone on a horrid day like this? You'll get your pretty dress all wet..."
Lascivious hands ran over her damp form, tugging at her skirt.
She squeaked indignantly, hoping it sounded enough like fear to pass muster. Really...
"You must be.. terrified, my pretty.." The man who had been to her left hissed in her ear as he passed, circling around her.
She reached back into her bag slowly, drawing out a longer knife and moving into a vaguely defensive stance, whilst still maintaining her cowed posture.
"Little girly, what's your name?"
She swallowed, audibly.
"Rosabelle..."
"What was that, girly?"
His grimy hand tilted her face up towards his, the fog obscuring his features from her.
She sucked in a breath through her mouth, almost gagging over the smell of unwashed man, mixed with the unmistakable scent of death that clung to the men like the fog that surrounded them.
"Rosabelle, sir. Please, do you know the best way out of here?" She had read in a book about the old European names, and she had been fascinated by the German meanings for many of the seemingly ordinary and common ones found in the area. Rosabelle, she decided, seemed harmless, but as it meant noted protector, it should give them enough of a warning.
Well, she knew they were going to underestimate her anyway.
The man in front of her sidled forwards, used, as she was, to the fog and the sense of disorientation it gave most travellers caught within its wet tendrils.
A finger of unease slithered down her spine as she took in the man's stature and build. He seemed to be quite young...
A rich boy turned highway robber?
How curious.
She strained her ears for any sound of her dragon, hoping against hope the fog hadn't removed all traces of her whereabouts.
Silence reigned in the group.
"Most of the time they're pleading by now, kid. Think we should let 'er go?" One of the men that had been at her right materialised in front of her, facing their leader.
"No, she might be useful. Besides, I'm bored."
The leader's voice cut through her, freezing her in place. She felt like he was talking to her, reaching deep within her soul to pull at parts of it her mother had warned her of.
She blushed slightly and tensed, sure they would see her revelation on her face.
Glancing up, she saw the leader and the man deep in conversation.
"I'm, uh, sorry. I'm pretty sure I can get home..."
"Rosabelle, was it? Well, I think we need a chat." She froze momentarily, eyes locked on his shape, heart beating erratically. This had suddenly stopped being fun.
"No, really, my uh, dragon will be missing me..." She attempted to dodge them, aiming for the weakest point in their circle. A large meaty arm stopped her passage.
She panicked, swinging the knife still clutched in her right hand in a perfect arc, slicing into the man's arm, the hot red drops splattering over her face and torso.
That's my last nice dress ruined. Bloody hell.
His shocked yell alerted the rest of them to her weapons, as she ducked and sprinted up the hill, shouting for Smaug as she went.
She could hear them behind her, moving with surprising speed and agility as she wove around the trees she had spent her entire life mapping unconsciously.
A hand barely avoided grasping the hem of her dress, Molly letting out a squeak of surprise as her balance almost failed her momentarily.
Shouting echoed around the mountain, fro either side of her. It sounded like they were trying to shepherd her into one area, their voices getting nearer as she began to call for Smaug again.
She hit a large, unexpected tree root and went flailing, knees hitting the ground hard and her wrist letting out a frighteningly loud snap.
"Argh. Ugh. No.." She gritted her teeth determinedly, one knife still grasped firmly in the unbroken hand. Their faces emerged from the mist as it began to lift, as though being blown from above.
She smiled unexpectedly, a sly, cunning smile surprisingly fitting with her bedraggled, blood spattered appearance.
She didn't recognise any of them, from what she could see; most of their faces were obscured by large beards, and the leader had his back to her.
He didn't look old though.
Maybe only a little older than her.
Huh.
They looked around them in confusion as the wind continued to pick up and Molly began to laugh outright at their expressions and in relief.
"Smaug, you great lump, took you long enough!"
She jumped slightly, just enough for the large reptilian claw that swept down from the overhanging clouds to grasp her firmly, peeking out over Smaug's paw to smirk at them.
She mad eye contact with the leader.
I knew it!
Excited blue-green eyes met her fierce brown ones, committing her to memory as she savoured this victory over a tall fourteen year old boy.
Their laughter rang out over the valley, hers elated and pain filled, his ecstatic and happy, that something so improbable fell quite literally from the sky, relieving him of his usual chronic boredom.
She never could quite remove his inquisitive eyes from her memory.
Whoo! Yeah, so I've become terrible at updating, I'm so sorry. Still, I trust this makes up for it?