A Dragon's Hoard

Chapter Four

A heavy, thick wind blew in from the west, warning of an oncoming storm this evening. Even if Damian thought they had the time and strength to make it back up the mountain to Raven's den, it was unlikely they would do so before the storm would break across the land. Which meant they would have to stay the night. Here. In this small town, in the middle of nowhere, with a dragon.

What an absolute disaster.

With a soft curse, he rubbed a hand over the back of his neck and glanced around the practically insignificant market, wondering what they could possibly get here that she needed. It wasn't exactly like they had an endless selection of goods, but then again, Raven was probably used to flying much farther to get what she needed.

In spite of its size, the market was still packed and noisy, even when Raven and Damian finally arrived in the late afternoon. Raven's face looked drawn as she perused the stalls, and she was more than just a little road weary. Damian realized that this was probably the first time in three hundred years that she had walked to the city herself, instead of flying anywhere. No wonder she had asked to stay the night. Even if they wanted to, she was never going to make it back up the mountain.

Vendors were calling out their wares, and Raven turned to buy dried food and spices for their return, negotiating prices and scheduling delivery to their recently purchased mule and cart. A sad mule and an even sadder cart, but it was... something. Somewhere, in the back of his mind, Damian wondered if he could ever entice her to Gotham. It would be a week's journey just to get there on foot, but they would be able to get far better items there, even without his clout. Besides, his family might like her, and she would certainly like them.

Damian felt his eyebrows knit together, and he lifted his head to see Raven still picking through a used book vendor, practically ignoring him. His family. He hadn't thought about his family since he left Gotham three years ago. It was easier to seal off his own emotions than to dwell on what he could no longer have. Damian had returned to Ra's under an agreement for Richard's life. Richard had been killed in battle, and Damian had promised Ra's his complete compliance and fealty to the League in exchange for the use of the Lazarus pit. Damian's family had all believed he'd simply cut ties and run away, but... it was far more complicated than that. Everything seemed complicated now.

A part of him missed the camaraderie, and yet... his feelings were complicated. A mess. His history with his family was something he promised himself he would sort through, but he had left his home for the League, and he hadn't ever returned to Gotham. And yet, it gave him some solace to know that Richard was living happily with his wife and a wild half-fae daughter who caused nothing but havoc around his home. He hoped that one day he might be able to meet her and explain himself, but... first he needed to ascend the throne. And that would require the head of the dragon standing next to him, her button nose still buried in a book.

He glanced back at the sky, watching the clouds move in faster, reminding him of the impending storm, feeling electricity snap in the thickness of the air.

"I think I can grow a small garden during the growing season." Raven paged through the book in her hands - something about growing a garden in all seasons. With soft hum, she looked up, her eyes finally meeting his. "The altitude shouldn't be too much of a problem, although the soil is a bit rocky." Her expression turned mischievous and she pitched forward to look into his face. "I do have a magic touch though."

Damian fought off the urge to smirk at her stupid joke, and he watched as she returned to the book, taking in the soft lines of her profile. In the gray light of the afternoon, she looked almost otherworldly, like an old god. She pushed a stray lock of hair from her face, and his stomach twisted uncomfortably. It felt like she was weaving a spell around him, and he didn't like it. The trek down the mountain had been filled with pleasant conversation. Raven was quick-witted and articulate, well-read and educated, and the more he was around her, the more he forgot that she was a dragon.