The four sailors scouted the area for wood to make a signal fire out of. Only a few trees grew on the island, making wood scarce. After scavenging up some drier twigs and logs, Sawyer set their fire to burning. Still wet, the young men clung close to the flames, flicking the salty liquid from their hair the best they could. Flynn shivered, rubbing his hands up and down his arms. The thin tunic he had grabbed before jumping in the skiff was growing small around him, several of the front buttons long since missing. He took it off, smoothing its stained red fabric as he held it near the fire to dry. When they found the treasure, one of the first things he planned to buy was a proper set of clothes in the proper size. He was getting tired of wearing the faded hand-me-downs acquired when they raided ships. Typically, the fabric came with its own unique version of the musty scent of sweaty man. This one had been particularly fragrant when he first got it. It was a general rule that loot acquired from other ships was divvied out by seniority and rank; naturally, Flynn was always the end of the line.

Not long after the fire was roaring, three more skiffs full of pirates came ashore. They crowded around the fire, shoving the younger pirates out of the way. The Captain and his loyalist Mates, talked openly about the legends they had heard of the volcano. It was still alive, is what Flynn gleamed. A living mountain that could spew forth fire and ash. Somewhere deep inside was said to be more diamonds then one could cart away on a hundred pirate ships. Granted, sea dogs were prone to exaggerating, but even a fraction of that amount was worth having.

After talking for a while, the pirates had had all of the waiting they could handle. It was time brave the mountain and take what the treasure they had come all this way to find. The Captain and his Mates led the team. Some of the pirates carried shovels, all had swords at the ready. Flynn gripped his sword in like fashion, desperately hoping that there wasn't anything lurking within the mountain worth using it on.

Torches aloft, they crept through the lilac bushes and into the mouth of the dark volcano. Their breathing echoed violently through the hollow chasm of the volcano's interior as stalactites drip-dripped moistness upon their heads. Flynn tasted one of the droplets just above his lip. He wasn't surprised to find that it had a strange salty taste. Over the years, Flynn had forgotten that there were flavors other than salty.

The first thing the pirates noticed as they scanned the cave, holding their torches up to the walls, was the absence of diamonds. The second thing they noticed was the giant iron cage that hung from the ceiling. In it a ghost white skeleton pointed ominously down at them. To the older pirates, this was hardly shocking, but to Flynn it was goose-bump inducing. The skeleton's jaw, broken on the right side, hung slackly from the skull. On it's shoulder an even deader looking parrot was perched.

"Well, me hearties, it would appear that someone may have beat us to the prize! But, wait! Is that a hole I see neath the cage?" It was. A narrow hole that went straight down deeper into the cave. "Someun' get me a rope!" A rope was procured and lowered down the hole. "Who's to go first? Any volunteers, ye liver-bellied rats?"

Every body nonchalantly busied themselves with noticing the dirt in front of their toes. All except for Flynn, who was still staring frozen, wide eyed, at the cage. The Captain walked over and gave Flynn a good slap on the back to wake him out of his stunned daze. "Well, my lad, glad to see yeh so excited. Now then, down the tunnel!" He gave the lad a sharp kick in the direction of the rope.

Flynn gripped the rope with his sweaty hands. Hank and Tank gave each other delighted nudges. Gulping, Flynn hesitantly lowered one leg over the edge of the hole. He drew it back sharply when one of the pirates clapped a startling hand on his back and yelled. The rest of the crew chortled loudly – Hank and Tank among the loudest.

Bracing himself against his brother and wiping the tears from his eyes, Hank declared, "I forgot that we still had a babe on the crew! Better watch out, boys, the liddle laddie might fall in!" More chortles broke out in chorus; Flynn sighing to himself in obvious defeat.

Gripping tightly to the rope, Flynn lowered himself into the hole. A lantern had been tied to a sash around his waist to light the way. He lowered himself a ways more, uneasy with the fact that his feet had to dangle down first while his hands were busy holding on for dear life. His sword hang uselessly from his side. He couldn't hold it and the rope at the same time. Lowering a few hands more, he lost control of his grip and plummeted to the ground below. It hadn't been a long drop, but it had been a painful one. He rubbed his bloody elbow and then hastily shown the lantern's light around the corner, desperately hoping not to find anything. He found something. A giant something. A giant green, scaly something that was sleeping on a bed of diamonds. Flynn's eyes widened and his throat bobbed up and down uncontrollably. The lad crept back to the rope and tugged at it franticly. He began to climb up, up, up as quickly and quietly as he could. He was stopped midway by a foul-smelling pirate boot. Two more pirates had already began to descend. Desperately, Flynn tried to scramble over them to get back up; in turn, he was shoved back down towards the ground as the pirate muttered angrily at the lad's cowardice.

"Get out of the way, ye little babe!"

Flynn pointed shakily at the green something on the diamonds. "Some... something... over... th-th-there!"

Several of the pirates now stood around him, the stared greedily at the large pile of diamonds. Granted, its vastness had been grossly overstated, but it was still a fortune, regardless. So what if there was a bear-sized, winged reptile sleeping lazy on top of the pile. So what? They were men they could handle a bit of pest control. They shrugged. Only a few years ago they had had a run in with a cracken, this tiny bear of a beast was hardly comparable.

One of pirates laughed at Flynn standing there blankly. He patted the lad on the back. "What's a matter, laddie? Never seen one of those afore?" Flynn weakly shook his head. "That, my lad, is a-"

"-dragon!" Said an excitable Rapunzel.

Mother turned towards Rapunzel. "I'm sorry, Rapunzel Darling, what did you say you wanted?"

Rapunzel drew her hands to her face in exasperation. Obviously Mother hadn't been listening, to absorbed with wrapping Rapunzel's hair around her neck like a scarf. "I said," Rapunzel remembered to speak clearly and loudly, "I for my birthday, it would be great for you to get me a friend. So, I was thinking, since, the other day, as I was reading through one of my books, the girl in the story had this amazing friend, so I thought, it would be lovely if you would get me – a dragon!"

"You want a what?" Came dryly from Gothel's mouth. "I'm not getting you a dragon, Rapunzel. Heaven knows the beast would never fit in the tower. Besides, they have such horrid breath – it's worse than a dog's, it really is. So, sorry, but you are not getting a dragon. And no, that pout won't work on me." Mother stood up, noticing the pathetic face of longing covering the child's face. Nothing would clear up this mess better than – a song. And she knew a particularly threatening one about dragons. She walked over to Rapunzel, wrapping an arm around the girl and nealing in front of her. "Rapunzel, darling, trust me. You don't want a dragon -

"Trust me,

You don't want a dragon.

There is nothing unlucky – like a dragon.

They have dark, wicked dispositions.

And they love to crash your party.

Trust me,

You don't want one, Punnzy!

Trust me,

You don't want a dragon.

There is nothing more hungry – than a dragon

They have sharp, razer sharp teeth.

And there always voraciously hungry.

Trust me,

You don't want one, honey!

They don't train well,

They have rotten dispositions.

You might found out,

that they have eaten all the dishes.

They don't train well,

They smell like dead fish,

and they poop real big piles.

Trust me, Punnzy,

You're notgetting a dragon!"

Rapunzel sat on the ground and cried, her face buried in her arms. Her dreams had just been shattered, and she had been looking so forward to getting a dragon for her birthday. Mother Gothel petted her head to sooth her. She then drew the child into her arms and picked her up. Rocking her back and forth and soothing her like one would a dog or cat. "There, there! You will be okay, Rapunzel. You can always paint a picture of a dragon and pretend it's real, right? That would make you happy, right?" Rapunzel nodded stiffly, answering through choking sobs, "I suppose. If I can't have a real dragon, a pretend one is better than none." She broke out into another fit of sobbing. Mother Gothel still holding her and rolling her eyes with dismay. Children, so pointlessly emotional. Mother Gothel felt so relieved knowing they had made it out of the pre-toilet training faze. She could handle a bit of crying over pointless things as long as she never needed to go back to changing diapers! Eight year olds were so much more manageable. Stabbing a dreamer in the heart with reality and picking up the pieces was just all a part of a hard day's work. She snuggled her cheek close to Rapunzel's head to remind herself that it was all worthwhile.