Gerald awakens to the rupturing of footsteps as goblins rush down the stairs followed by the sounds of the basement door slamming shut. He pulls the blanket off him and grabs the silver candle stand from beneath his pillow, his hands sweating with adrenaline. “Everyone stay quiet!” orders a familiar sounding voice. That voice being Rodry, head of the clan’s scouts that had just recently been renamed by June. Gerald’s hold on his improvised weapon eases along with his anxiety. “What’s the situation with the human?” Gerald asks. Rodry gestures to his subordinates as they start to hand out a foreign item. “The human ordered us to call her Nana and gave us the task of delivering food to the clan” he states with a monotone voice of obedience. “Nana has also ordered we remain down here as one of her offspring will be arriving”.
Gerald stares at the odd piece of food in his hand then looks around at his clan. Every other member of the clan seems to be clearly enjoying this weird combination of bread and meat, yet he was hesitant to eat any form of meat that’s not cooked, and this meat was clearly pink. “Nana calls it a Sand Witch. The meat is from swine and changed in a way that is safe to eat without fire”. “A Sand Witch?” Gerald ponders the odd naming of such a creation, yet proceeds to take a bite. The taste of the meat clearly overpowers the bread, yet Gerald quickly understands the bread’s role. “The bread isn’t for flavour, but convenience” he marvels at the clear example of human creativity, noticing the bread saves his hand from the grease of the meat allowing his hand to still be ready for battle.
June opens the guest bedroom door to the image of the female goblins tending to their pregnant kin. Her stomach is close to bursting, it is clear she is due very soon. “Ladies, breakfast time” she speaks softly, softer than she did to the males of the tribe. Resting the tray on the bed stand, she turns to the goblins. “How’re you feeling Linda?” June asks with concern. “Hurt” pregnant goblin replies, nearly drowning in her own sweat. “Oh I remember on my Malcolm I was burning to death in the snow!” June reminisces, wrapping ice in a small towel and applying it to Linda’s forehead. “It’ll end soon when the babies come but for now we have to ease her symptoms” she advises the other goblins who respond with blank stares. “What is she saying?” one goblin says to the others in their native tongue. “I think she’s saying to care for her” another responds. A high pitched sound wrings through the building, alerting the goblins. “It’s okay, my son is here” June reassures them before heading downstairs.
June slowly opens the door. Her face shines with joy as she bends over and slaps her hands onto her knees. “Is it Nana’s big boy?!” she squeals in a childlike tone before a green dragon the size of a pitbull rushes to her, rubbing its snout into her hands as she fusses her hands behind the dragon’s ears. Following the dragon is a broadly built man, towering over June. “Mum, I exist too” he chuckles. She ignores his entrance, fully engrossed in playfully teasing the dragon. “God, he’s more like my Titan everyday!” she says, finally acknowledging the man’s presence. She rises up and hugs the man “It’s good to see you Malcolm” she says softly. “It’s good to see you too mum” he says as they separate. June turns to walk to the kitchen, both Malcolm and the dragon follow. As they pass the basement door, the dragon stops and starts sniffing the carpet by the door. “Baldur, come on!” Malcolm orders, followed by his whistle which Baldur immediately responds to with obedience.
Baldur sits proudly on a kitchen chair as June sprays his scales, brushing the oil in with a nail brush. “Is your dad not oiling your scales?” June coos, as if she’s spoiling an infant. Malcolm ignores her comment, focusing his sights on the stew covered counters. “Had a party here, did you Mum?” he asks with concern. Hearing his questioning, it clicks in June’s mind. She stammers her words, unable to lie to her son. “I had guests last night” she is able to get out before a knock at the backdoor is heard. Hesitantly, June goes to open the backdoor as Malcolm looks out the window. Baldur sniffs the air as the warmth of relaxation breaks, leading him to jump from the chair and position himself next to June.
Slowly opening the door to three dirt covered men, she feels nothing but confusion. Baldur steps in front of June, acting as a wall between her and the strangers. The sounds of sniffing and growling are heard behind them until a direwolf comes to one of the men’s side, showing the hound’s leash. “Hello there” one of the strange men begins to speak with an odd smile. “I’m Henry, these are my associates William and Robert” he says, gesturing to the man to his side and the man with the direwolf respectively. “And?” June retorts, placing her hand on Baldur's head. “Well you see my love, we’ve tracked a small tribe of goblins to the area and they may have potentially invaded your home.” Henry drones on.
As his mother and the strange men talk, Malcolm hears the old floorboards of his childhood home creak. From years of firsthand experience in this home, it’s the sound of someone sneaking around. He looks towards the living room to the sight of a small goblin. “Nana! Nana!” it calls. “Come on Noah, come to Nana!” June chirps back. Malcolm halts, watching what he’d usually view as a pest run so innocently into his mother’s arms. The direwolf sees the child and growls, causing him to cling into her gown.
“Miss, do you not know-” as William approaches to speak, he’s cut off by June. “Malcolm! Get my tamer licence!” She orders her son in a tone he hadn’t heard in a long time, but it’s a tone he knows not to disobey. The three hunters recoil in curiosity. June’s left arm is wrapped around Noah, keeping him to her chest, whilst her right hand remains on Baldur’s head. Malcolm rummages quickly through the draws, grabbing a small piece of red plastic with the words ‘Post-Military Spousal Licence’. He returns to his mother, seeing a familiar fire in her eyes. He checks Baldur, seeing June’s pinky finger raise from his scalp. “Baldur” Malcolm calls calmly. “Baldur!” he repeats, more stern yet Baldur ignores his command. Panic erupts inside Malcolm as he hears a grumble from Baldur’s stomach. “Show them” June demands, not breaking eye contact with the men.
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Almost as if he had turned from a man of the military into a scared disobedient child, Malcolm sheepishly follows his mother’s command, revealing the plastic card to the men. June glares at Robert as he holds his direwolf close. “You know how licensing works, I’m qualified for a dragon, so I can have anything smaller!” June states. Robert attempts to speak before staring at her right hand and then back to her almost dominating glare. “Listen Miss-” William attempts to speak yet again before Robert slaps the back of his head before taking over. “We’re so sorry for the disruption madam” Robert says through his shaking, understanding the situation he is in. “We’ll be leaving now, please have a wonderful day!” Robert projects a fake cheery demeanour. “Oh I will” June retorts, hand still in position on Baldur’s head. The men quickly turn and retreat back to the woods, quietly arguing amongst themselves.
Once she sees them disappear in the tree line, she lets out a proud smile. “Heel” she whispers calmly, brushing her four other fingers along the top of Baldur’s scalp, causing the grumbling of his stomach to silence. Malcolm lets out a huge sigh of relief before bursting in anger “Mum, you know you could've killed them!”. June chuckles “You forget I had a military dragon too right? I wasn’t going to let Baldur waste his breath!”. June sits Noah on the counter as she takes her licence from Malcolm, placing it back in the drawer. “If my Titan was here though, he would’ve had them just for looking at me wrong” she mumbles.
“Noah dear, can you take this up to Linda, she was in such a state last night” she speaks calmly to the young goblin, giving him a glass of water. He nods, jumping off the counter and runs the glass of water up the stairs. “And you were going to tell me about the goblins when?” Malcolm asks, “Why do you think I called you here?” she retorts as she cleans the stains of dried stew from the counters. “I got 3 upstairs, one’s pregnant. The rest, about 20, are downstairs. I’ve fed them, cared for them. I just want your opinion”. Malcolm knew his mother was a caring woman, often known to nurture injured wild birds, but pet goblins have always been unheard of, even amongst the tamer corps.
Noah quickly rushes back downstairs with a silver tray of empty glasses and dirty plates. “Nana” he innocently chirps as he hands the tray to June. “Thank you!” she says, smiling down at him. After putting the tray on the counter, she crouches down to Noah, whispering “I have some family you should meet!”. She takes his hand and walks over to Malcolm. “Malcolm” she points to her son, Noah repeats with a cheer. “And this is Baldur” she says, rubbing under the dragon's chin. “Baldur” Noah mimics, his youthful innocence making him ignorant to what any adult of his race would recognize as a great threat. Baldur turns to the green child and approaches, sniffing around his face and chest. June watches carefully as Malcolm is still baffled by the situation. Noah, without fear, scratches under his chin, yet again mimicking June “Baldur! Baldur!” he repeats joyfully. Baldur barely responds as Noah finds the spot that creates bliss for him.
June’s anticipation turns to a small grin. “I was more looking for his opinion!” she laughs. Malcolm finally decides to speak. “Where are you keeping them?”. Silence now blankets June, as her joy disappears and she looks out the kitchen window. “I was hoping to put them in Titan’s old room” she says with a wave of sorrow, staring at the old barn house. He puts his hand on her shoulder for reassurance. “Mum, it’s long enough. Now you’ve got an excuse to empty it” Malcolm says before witnessing June’s tears roll down her face. “It still has his bed in there” her voice breaks through the tears, feeling the swelling in her throat that often comes with grief. She inhales deeply and exhales hastily before wiping her eyes. “Noah dear, can you go get everyone from downstairs, I have somewhere nice and comfy for you all to stay!” she asks of him, wearing her smile from earlier. Noah nods and rushes down to the basement, chirping joyfully in his native language.
“Nana has a new home for us! A nice comfy home from Nana!” Noah sings as he runs down the basement stairs. His loud asserting of his presence garners the attention of the clan. “Nana, Malcolm and Baldur have found us somewhere nice and comfy!” he cheers. The rest of the clan fail to match his enthusiasm. “Malcolm and Baldur? Are those Nana’s offspring?” Gerald asks. “Yes! Malcolm is big and tall and Baldur likes chin scratches! He’s like a big smooth dog!” Noah’s enthusiasm irradiates from him as he gestures along with his words.
Goosebumps run up Malcolm’s body as he hears the sound of a small army marching up from the basement. He stands in the kitchen doorway with Baldur by his side, seeing the image of a swarm of goblins. Noah breaks through them, running to Malcolm’s feet. “Malcolm! Baldur!” Noah shouts to his clan, pointing to the human and his dragon respectively. Gerald freezes, not at the sight of the human, but at any goblin’s nightmare, a dragon. “Child! Get over here! That creature can kill us-” Gerald shouts at Noah, but stops once witnessing the dragon’s affectionate chirping. “Bring me to them” he orders the goblin holding him up. Whilst assisted, he hobbles over to what a goblin would only describe as surreal. Gerald holds his hand out to the dragon and mutters “Baldur”, catching the dragon’s attention. Baldur turns to look at Gerald’s hand, bowing his head, awaiting affection. Horror and anxiety turns into pure awe as Gerald runs his hand along Baldur’s scales.
Baldur accepts Gerald’s hesitant attempts and responds by rubbing his snout into his hand, blissfully chirping at all the new attention he’s received today. Gerald’s eyes and instincts clash internally. The usual sight of a dragon would force him to flee without thought, yet his instincts aren’t alerting him of danger. Gerald turns to his helper “A human spent the night feeding and caring for us, and now I’m enjoying the company of a dragon. If we haven’t died and gone to paradise, then paradise must’ve come to us”.