Dragon's Hoard pt 5
Warnings: none, kidnapping mention. Hybrids trying to parent a human. (They don't know how to parent.)
Inspired by docdudo and bluegiragi.
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"Easy now kid, your face will get stuck if you keep glaring at us like that." Ghost's deep timbre echoes through the cave as he watches you from the corner of the nest. His muscular arms that are crossed over his chest bulge with each micromovement. As cozy as the nest is, it's still jarring to be in the presence of beings that aren't fully human -the makers of said nest. Hybrids, dangerous creatures. Part human and part beast, they can be centaurs, merfolk, minotaurs, satyrs, and more. The list is endless, and each more deadly than the last. No human should be near one, much less converse with one. But here, against all odds. You're still alive and well. A little roughed up and hungry, but compared to most fates, it could be significantly worse.
Glaring daggers at the hybrids. You can feel how a snarl is making its way to your chapped lips. The air in the cave is somewhat stale, save for a slight breeze that gently wafts from the obscured enterance. Gaz's eyes almost sparkle with amusement as you find the courage to glare up at the massive harpy. It's like a mouse trying to scare a large house cat. 'There's nothing to be looking so smug about.' You think, as you suppress a shiver. Gaz's sharp talons do more to rationalize the fear you're feeling, then the gentle look in his eyes do to dissuade your anxieties.
His deep brown eyes scan and asseses you with a careful thought, almost as if checking for any visible signs of injury or illness. It's if he's done so many times before. Every move is calculated, executed quickly with a calm precision. The thought that these massive creatures actually care for you is all so well maintained and preserved. But the nagging voice in the back of your head screams to the high heavens that it's all fake. 'It has to be' your mind repeats for the umpteenth time. The feeling of a hot, almost absurdly massive hand engulfing the crown of your head drags you from your thoughts.
Immediately the snarl from your lips fades away as the hand gently ruffles your hair. The pressure is firm to the point bordering on immobilizing. Carefully, large, calloused digits, expertly massage your scalp. With a turn of your head, your eyes meet those of the Dragon's. His baby blue eyes glow within the dimly lit darkness of the cave. 'Like a lighthouse.' You think, vaguely you can recall the mention of one from some sailors who passed through the city gates a month or so back. The way the dragon's eyes pierce through the dark is similar to how the light would be a shining becon through a dark, tempestuous night. Staring you down with a steely gaze that roots you on the spot. It's not like you could move even if you wanted to. With his hand on your head. A pit of shame, almost like embarrassment prompts you to speak. Your words are uncharacteristically soft as they leave your tongue.
"Don't."
The hybrid pauses, but doesn't retract his hand.
"Don't?"
Swallowing the lump in your throat, you can feel how your esophagus tightens with emotion. Lowering your gaze as the bright blues of his eyes feel too strong. Almost as he can see your soul, in all its glory.
"My hair....it's dirty...dirty and gross...you shouldn't touch it."
Your words make the dragon hybrid pause. With a heavy sigh, Price rumbles lowly with a look of soft exasperation on his features as he sends a look to Soap.
"Soap, our pup here says they're dirty."
The werewolf nods in confirmation.
"Aye, so they said."
"Well? What do you think? I've seen you come home covered in muck and god knows what else."
Price's words earn a mighty guffaw and a loud laugh from the Scotsman. His massive tummy shakes with each deep laugh that rips from his throat. His tail wags rapidly and thumps heartily against the side of the nest and Ghost's massive, muscled thigh.
"Aye, tha be true. But we cannae ave a dirty pup. Bring em ere."
An undignified yelp rips through your vocal chords as you flail on instinct as you're lifted from your spot by two large hands nestled under your armpits. Kicking blindly outwards, you can feel the warm chest at your back holding in stifled laughter. Craving your head back, you lock eyes with the Harpy.
"Hey now chickadee, easy. Don't need you kicking all over, it's going to make cleaning a pain in the ass."
Vaguely you can see Ghost's head nodding in agreement from where he's sitting.
"Let me go! I don't need cleaning!"
Your indignant screeches are met by coddling voices, so uncharacteristically low with the intent to put you at some form of relative ease. Their deep rumbles and low baritones were never meant for comfort, but for your sake. They find themselves trying their best.
"Och, I think ye do wee one." Comes a condescending purr from Soap as he gently places his hands on your legs to prevent you from squirming and flailing. Even with his gentle touch, it's still firm. The hidden strength in his bones and gentle grip speak of unmentionable strength, the thought that he could break your legs with the slightest of ease makes the fight leave your body.
"I'm not wee." You grumble out ruefully as you feel your body being settled on Gaz’s lap. His hands moving dexterously with smooth precision as he picks out some debris from your tangled locks.
"Hush now baby bird, stop wiggling." The velvety tone of Gaz’s voice coos as you register the fact he's cleaning your hair as a bird would preen and ruffle the feather of her babies. The thought is sweet. But the embarrassment of being treated like a baby bird has vicious flames of anger coiling in your already nauseated stomach.
"Soon when it gets nicer out, we'll bathe you in the river. All squeaky clean."
"Are humans always so small?" Soap’s voice cuts through your thoughts and the steadily growing silence.
"When they're young, yes. And when they're fresh from the womb, even smaller." Answers Price with a chuff.
"Smaller? How small you saying? Me mum when she had me, used tae say I was the size ova otter."
Price rolls his eyes with a cheerful huff as he readjusts his tail to wrap around Soap's waist.
"Small as an otter? Hard to believe that now lad."
"Aye, big as a house now."
Answers Soap as he tugs Simon along side him to snuggle up against the furnace that is Price. Wordlessly, the wraith melts against Price as he keeps his gaze firmly locked on you.
The unsettling feeling of the wraith's gaze makes you tense. As if one wrong move would earn you his ire. As soon as he sees the unsettled look upon your face, the scent of stress wafting off of you makes the heavyset lines between his brows furrow deeper, but to your benefit he doesn't say anything.
"There now, isn't that much better?" Comes the smooth, honeyed tone of Gaz as he presses a soft kiss to the crown of your head. "Sweet little chickadee."
Tilting your chin up and back to look up at the Harpy, your eyes are met with something you've never quite seen before. The look in Gaz’s eyes are filled with amusement, love, fear, uncertainty, and something else you can't quite place. Your blank gaze makes him smile as he proceeds to rock you gently side to side on his lap.
"You okay there, Gaz?"
Questions Price as he stretches a leathery wing out to gently brush against one the feathered wings resting limply at his side.
"Yeah, yeah Cap. Better than alright."
Before Price can answer, the sound of your tummy rumbling loudly gathers the attention of the hybrids. The sound and sensation of an empty tummy makes your ears burn scarlet.
"Hungry, chickadee?"
Too mortified to answer, you resolve the issue by turning on Gaz’s lap and hiding your face against his chest.
"Pretty sure humans this size don't need to feed like that anymore." Says Price as he reluctantly stretches and releases Soap's waist.
"Ha! Gaz ain't got the right equipment for tha" Soap says between chuckles as he moves to lean against Ghost to make up for the lack of warmth from Price suddenly getting up.
Sauntering over with a lazy shamble, Price yanks you from Gaz’s lap and hauls you off to a different section of the cave. Your body is being held firmly against his side, propped on his hip with one hand supporting your rear. He carries you with ease as the sounds of Gaz’s indignant cries of "they're still not clean!" And "I haven't finished!" echos in the cave. Ghost however watches, the spectacle with a soft gaze. The remainder of the hybrids left in the nest are filled with amusement at the sight of a small, human child fighting off Price. Fully ignoring your screeches of protest, they turn their attentions to one another as Price takes you to get something to fill your empty stomach.
"Quiet down kid! I'm getting ya food!"
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Here is the long awaited part 5. I do apologize for the delay. Work has been a bit busy. Thank you all for the support. I greatly appreciate your patience.
