Notes— this has been sitting in my unfinished folder for like four months. i completely forgot about it's existence.
on a different note… GUISE I UPDATED WHAT IS THIS FUCKERY.
also, Little!Lucy's a literate little bugger.
fun fact: i didn't originally write 'bugger'
i sort of have a swearing problem.
also, because i find Layla highly suspicious.
it is 5:00 AM please tell me if there's any mistakes orz

"… and they all lived happily ever after."

"Hardly."

Layla looked down at her eight year old daughter, cocking her head slightly in curiosity and closing the story book that was on her lap.

"Pardon me?"

Lucy blushed, looking down at her hands and stammering, "N-not that it wasn't a good story or anything, just— what about the dragon?"

The older blonde smiled, deciding to play dumb. "What about him?"

"He doesn't get a happy ending."

"Well, why should he?"

Lucy gaped at her mother. "Because he didn't do anything wrong! Look," She reached for the book, flipping through the pages until she found the right one. Keeping her index finger under the words, she fluently read aloud, "—and as the fiery beast saw her, with her golden tresses and sun kissed skin, it couldn't help but mistake her for a treasure, greater than any jewel it had hidden in it's lair— See? It wasn't his fault. He was just…" She paused, looking for the right word, "… doing what came naturally, I guess."

Layla smiled, pleasantly surprised at her daughter's thoughts. "But she was a princess— aren't princesses meant to be saved by their princes?"

Lucy pouted. "I guess… but this prince wasn't even that great! He didn't compliment her or try to comfort her or anything. All he said was, Princess, I have come to rescue you from the dragon's evil clutches, or something like that." She paused, looking up at her mother with a raised brow.

"How was this published? It sort of sucks."

Laughing, Layla took the book, getting of the loveseat they were sharing and placing it back in its snug spot on the bookshelf. "Then I suppose when you're older, you'll have to write tons of wonderful stories— to make up for the terrible ones, of course."

"I should, shouldn't I? I could, too! Should I have a prince? No, I don't want one! Maybe a knight. A girl knight. Hey, mama, are dragons real?"

Layla froze, caught off guard by the sudden question. Turning around, she saw Lucy looking at her with genuine curiosity.

The mother quickly hid her surprise with a smile. "What do you think?"

Lucy pouted. "Everyone says they're not."

Layla considered her options. She could try to dodge the question, but Lucy wasn't the type of child to let things slide. She could simply say, "Of course not," and Lucy would most likely never even consider the possibility again.

(Having such an influence over her young daughter worried Layla, sometimes.)

Or…

Letting her smile turn slightly mischievous, Layla bent forward until she was at eye level with the tiny blonde.

"As a matter of fact, dragons are very real."

Lucy gasped, soft brown eyes widening. "They are?"

"As real as you and me."

"But everyone says they aren't around anymore."

"Ah! But you see," Layla held up a finger and winked, "Dragons are just sneaky, despite their large sizes. They haven't been seen, because they don't wish to be seen."

Lucy nodded, as if it all made perfect sense.

Straightening up, Layla adjusted her skirt, preparing to leave her small sanctuary. About to say her goodbyes, she was cut off by Lucy.

"I'm going to meet a dragon."

(And Layla froze with shock for the second time that day.)

Her daughter was staring at the bookshelf, where Layla had put the story book.

"I'm going to meet a dragon…" She repeated, "And we're going to be friends. And maybe we'll go on an adventure, and maybe I'll write about it. But I will meet one."

Layla stared, genuinely surprised at the amount of conviction the young girl's voice held, the determined look in her eyes.

After what seemed like an eternity, Layla burst out laughing.

"Oh, I believe you will," She reassured Lucy when hurt began to show in her eyes, "I know you will."

"And when you do, I'd like to meet him."

It was a pity that because of the events the following years held, Lucy would forget that conversation.