Title: Of Dragons, Draaks, and Fathers
Author: esotaria
Artist: reapertownusa
Genre: Fantasy
Pairings: None
Word Count: 1,178
Rating: PG
Warnings: none
Summary: A little girl with three fathers, only two of whom are human, doesn't exactly fit in Victorian England.

The girl surrounded herself with bright colors. Vivid blues, bold reds, brilliant yellows, and greens that seemed to glow with life. Pillows were not matched with comforters, rugs clashed with drapes, and the floor could never be quite free of dirt, brought in by flowers unceremoniously uprooted from their homes. The cacophony of color made good Mrs. Bowler wince every time she entered, but she could not persuade Mr. Griffiths to do anything about it.

"Let the child be, Mrs. Bowler. It is her room."

Though Mrs. Bowler contended it was not the girl's room, it was part of his house and he had an obligation to maintain its condition, he would not budge. She found this extremely vexing, considering all the sacrifices that she had already made. What other woman in Britain would tolerate an aboriginal in her guest bedroom and a monster in her garden shed? She contemplated giving him her notice many times, but she had worked in the Griffiths household since the master was a lad of eight. She did not uproot easily.

Straightening the window seat pillows soothed her ruffled spirits, and she moved to the bed to shake the child awake.

"Miss Amelia. It is time for breakfast."

Her hand reached out, but it found only pillows and blankets.

"Miss Amelia!"


Young Miss Amelia was not in her bed, nor had she been for several hours. The moment the sun peeked over the horizon, she grabbed her favorite blankets and shimmied out the window and down the pillar, quietly making her way to the garden. She liked this time of day the best, when even the servants were still asleep and it seemed as though she had the entire world to herself. Despite the frigid weather and the rigidly segmented flowers, she could close her eyes and pretend that the so-called "rescue ship" had never come and that she was home. It was her favorite game of make believe.

But it only worked when she was alone. And this morning, there was an invader in her imaginary paradise. A girl her own age, all gangly limbs and freckles. The cut of her clothing indicated that she was one of the servant's daughters; it was too sensible for the masters. The intruder sat on Amelia's favorite branch and grinned down at her. Amelia only glared.

"That's my spot," she said, doing her best imitation of Mrs. Bowler. All the servants had to obey Mrs. Bowler, but this little urchin seemed unimpressed.

"Don't got your name on it," she said.

"It's still mine," Amelia insisted. "Now get down this instant!"

The girl scrambled down with a monkey's grace, and Amelia felt a surge of triumph that was short-lived. True, the girl had left her tree branch, but she showed no sign of leaving Amelia.

"Name's Bertie," she said, holding out a hand. "You're the dragon girl."

Amelia looked at the hand, then back at Bertie, confused. She finally settled on the most important question.

"What's a dragon?"

Bertie grabbed her hand and shook it. "You're s'posed to shake someone's hand when you meet them," she said. "That's what they call 'manners.'"

Amelia didn't really care about manners. "What's a dragon?" she asked again.

"That thing in the garden shed," Bertie explained.

"Hassan isn't a dragon," Amelia said.

"What is he then?"

"He's a draak."

"What's a draak?"

This taxed Amelia's patience and knowledge of biology. "Hassan is!" she snapped. If Bertie noticed her irritation, she showed no signs of caring.

"Is he your pet?"

"No. He's my father!"

Bertie laughed. "A dragon can't be your da!"

"He's not a dragon and he's not my da!" Amelia said, not sure what Bertie was saying but fairly certain that she didn't like it. "He's a draak and he's my father."

"But you're people," Bertie said.

"So?"

"Then your father's got to be people too."

"Why?"

It was Bertie's turn to be frustrated. "Because!"

"Because isn't an answer, it's a conjunction," Amelia said primly. She had heard Mrs. Bowler say that many times to the younger servants and thought it would be a good way to put Bertie in her place.

"Is Mr. Griffiths your father?" Bertie asked, ignoring the brilliant retort. It took Amelia a moment to remember that's what everyone else called Eli.

"Yes," she said, and Bertie crowed with triumph.

"That's it then!"

"He's my second father," Amelia told her. "Hassan is my first."

"You can't have two fathers," Bertie said.

"Why not?"

Bertie opened her mouth to say "because," but stopped herself. Amelia smirked, and Bertie narrowed her eyes. "So what's the dark guy? Daddy number three?"

"He's my tata," Amelia answered.

Bertie shook her head. "Mental you are," she said. "Who's got two dads, a tata, and no mum?"

"What's a mum?" Amelia asked. Bertie gave her a deeply sympathetic look and patted her shoulder, which only baffled her more.

"Ma says the dragon eats babies," she said. "Is that true?"

Amelia stomped her foot. "He's not a dragon!"

"I never said he was!" Bertie said. "That's what Ma calls him! So does he?"

"Sometimes," Amelia said honestly. Bertie screeched and covered her hands with her mouth, and Amelia wondered what she had said.

"Amelia!" The little girl sighed as she heard her tata call. She had missed her window of opportunity. She gave Bertie a resentful glare, but that little scamp was already off and running towards the house.

Jase, her tata, lifted Amelia up into his arms. She snuggled up against him, though she hated the stiff, coarse fabric of his shirt. "Thought you'd be here. Mrs. Bowler's convinced Hassan ate you."

Amelia snorted derisively, and Jase chuckled. "Time to eat," he said.

"I'm not hungry," Amelia said. "I want to see Hassan!" At least part of that statement was a lie, and the rumbling of her stomach revealed it. Jase had the good grace not to laugh at her embarrassment.

"How 'bout this," he said. "Come eat your breakfast, and then all four of us'll go for a walk in the woods."

"Hassan too?" Amelia asked eagerly. The draak terrified most of the servants, and Mrs. Bowler was determined that no one should know her master's shameful secret, so Hassan was forced to spend most of his time hiding in the garden shed.

"All of us," Jase said. "The neighbors are off in London. Nobody around to stumble into us. It'll be fun."

"But not Mrs. Bowler," Amelia clarified. It was very important that Mrs. Bowler not come. She could take the fun out of anything.

"Just us," Jase reassured her. "It'll be just like being home again." Amelia noticed the slip. Jase and Eli had both taken to calling England "home," as if by calling it "home" they could make it a home, but Hassan and Amelia knew better. England was a place they'd endure until Eli changed his mind. Someday they would get on a ship and leave the cold, dreary island behind them forever.

But until then, a walk in the woods would do.





Of Dragons, Draaks, and Fathers by Katie Nolan is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution-ShareAlike 3.0 Unported License.
Based on a work at talibusorabat.dreamwidth.org.
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