Chapter Text
The evening comes soon, and Olienne prepares dinner. The child – Kai, the dragon reminds himself – hasn’t exited the room ever since Olienne left him; but the mana filling the lair clues him that the boy is asleep.
Should he wake him and share dinner? Olienne guesses that the boy didn't have a proper meal since he got lost in the forest, but the salve he gave him always leaves the patient exhausted; the healing potion in the mix uses the energy of the person it’s used on.
Setting the plates on the table with his magic, Olienne picks up a book and sits at the table.
He had acquired many books from different nations, describing their cultures and history, along with information about the nobility and the current ruling family. The emblem of Molden Kingdom glistens on the cover, and he turns page after page, looking through descriptions of every noble and hero the country had to offer. The behavior of the boy wasn’t that of a commoner, and none of the mercenaries knew that much etiquette. Perhaps, the boy of noble origin or even related to the royalty of the country next to his forest; how could a boy with such a thin complexion travel from anywhere farther, more so from a different continent?
And yet, none of the descriptions fit the child's appearance.
Olienne lets his mind wander a little, back to the memories long unvisited. The shade of the boy’s hair is such a brilliant color, and the dragon remembers only one instance of seeing a familiar shade.
Two hundred years, in a town, now ruins from the war that ravaged the whole continent, a traveler inquired about the properties of plants Olienne carried with him. His curious gaze, with glimmers of madness, was reminiscent of copper, accentuated by an earring with a bright ruby the man wore.
The all-too familiar jewelry is currently nestled comfortably against the shell of an ear of the boy resting in his lair.
The man was most likely an ancestor of Kai: the similar hair and eyes, appearance overall and, of course, the earring, that could be a family heirloom.
The man didn’t strike Olienne as a noble, with his fearless and carefree attitude towards him; the clothes he wore also weren’t an exhibit of wealth. Still, Olienne couldn't refuse the resemblance between the redheads.
A clink of utensils and a thump of a book against the table, Olienne sends the plates and the cutlery to clean themselves with a wave of a hand. After the task is finished, they move to their designated places in the cupboard. The dragon leaves his seat to prepare for a bath.
He wakes slowly, sleep still heavy in his limbs. For a moment he thinks that the wolves have got to him, because there’s no chance that he’s sleeping on something this comfortable. He is tempted to bury his face in the soft fur and rest more, but the absence of the heartbeat startles him awake.
He opens his eyes and groggily sits up on the bed – a bed! What a blessing! – before surveying the room. It’s not too big, consisting of a closet, a mirror, a small couch and a chair with a coffee table, and the bed itself; there are two doors, one hiding behind a bathroom and another connecting the room to the hallway. Albeit the room is grand and warm, it doesn’t look lived-in.
His second and clean set of clothes and bag, along with most of his weapons, cover the chair and add just a little homely feel to the place.
Cale touches the soft cotton of the pyjama he found in the closet. Whenever he stopped at the inns, he opted to rest just without his outerwear or, if the inn provided them, in nightclothes, knowing that they would be washed for the next comer after he’s gone. None of them were this nice, however. He is going to miss this once he leaves, but he probably inconvenienced the dragon much more than he should have.
He makes the bed, reapplies the healing salve and changes his bandages; the pain in his arm has reduced to a mere throb, and the swelling in his ankle has gone down overnight. He changes his clothes and clasps the seams of his weapons and armor around him, finishing it with wrapping the familiar dark cloak around his shoulders. He appreciates himself in the mirror and exits the room.
“Where are you going?” A voice calls.
Cale stills and turns around to see the dragon holding the office door open. The esteemed dragon looks impeccable – his green hair is put in a low ponytail, and his robes flow behind him gracefully as he moves to close the door.
Pain pulses through Cale’s head and stacks up behind his eyes, and he forces his focus on the outline of the dragon’s body, the colors of his robes, the length of his hair, the tall doorway, the sturdy walls–
It pulls back, and Cale breathes.
“Were you going to leave without breakfast,” the dragon starts, “and injured?”
Cale sweats. “I was meaning to find you before leaving.”
Was the dragon-nim this angry with him? Because Cale didn’t acknowledge him first upon waking?
And why does it sound like he is more upset over Cale not eating?
The dragon scoffs. “Well, you’ve found me,” he says and starts walking down the hallway. “Now follow me.”
Cale can do nothing but obey.
The boy wanted to leave.
Leave! When he’s like this!
The disturbances in the mana movement have told him enough: the child was injured enough to reapply the medicine. From whatever motions the mana detected, he deduced that the boy was still careful with himself while in the bedroom. The moment he was at the door, Olienne walked to the exit of his office himself; if he was correct, the child would try to leave as soon and soundlessly as possible.
And he was correct.
After using his authority as the owner of the “house” and a dragon, Olienne leads the human to the dinner area. The dishes wait for them at the table, still hot from the spell he’s casted. He made sure the food is easy on the stomach of a human, because he doesn’t know when did the boy last eat a decent meal; the time he stayed in the forest showed that he didn’t actively seek food, and the thinness of his hands is visible enough. Did he starve in the forest? Was he eating well before coming to the forest? A three-day long stay hungry wasn’t enough to completely malnourish oneself.
With these thoughts Olienne sits at the head of table and motions to Kai to join him. Kai, to his credit, takes a seat immediately and starts eating. The poorly hid eagerness wakes his appetite more, and he almost follows the boy’s example.
“Little one,” he starts, instead. His voice catches the boy’s attention right away. “After you’re done travelling to Molden Kingdom, where will you rest?”
Kai eats some more, before swallowing and answering, voice clear and steady. “I will rest in Sommel after crossing the border. I’ve heard that despite the never-ending arrival of merchants, it is a calm town for a traveler,” he pauses while cutting a piece of broiled salmon. “I will then continue my journey to the capital and stay there for a week, before moving to Sez Kingdom,” at that Olienne frowns.
“That is a long journey, including the occasional stops. Are you heading home, little one?” He asks.
The boy politely shakes his head. “No, I am not, Dragon-nim.”
“Are you planning on going home at all?”
Kai smiles sadly. “I don’t have a home to return to.”
Olienne’s expression sours. He doesn’t like the boy’s smile, doesn’t like his words about a lack of a place to miss, doesn’t like the impulsive thoughts the boy’s admittance ignites in his mind.
Do you wish to have a home to return to?
“As I said before, that is a long journey,” he looks at the boy, who seems intrigued. “You will need to be in your best condition before you can continue. For that, I advise you to stay here until you recover properly from your injuries,” the child opens his mouth to protest, but Olienne holds up his hand, and the boy stops. “I will not be hearing you call yourself ‘a hindrance’ and say you are ‘disturbing’ me. As an adult, I can’t have you leave unhealthy on such a dangerous adventure.”
Kai’s hands grip the utensils tighter and he bites his cheek, and yet Olienne can see hope and relief swirling in his copper gaze.
“Okay,” the boy finally settles. “Please take care of me,” Olienne nods, accepting. It couldn’t go another way.
But before he can pick up a fork, a shy sound distracts him. “Since I will be staying here, can I learn your name, Dragon-nim?”
“Of course,” he turns. “It’s Olienne, little one.”
Kai beams at him. “Nice to meet you, Olienne-nim.”
“Nice to meet you, too, Kai,” the dragon chuckles.
The silence that follows is comfortable, and Olienne welcomes it, just like he did with the boy, wholeheartedly.