This fanfiction will be a bit short and anticlimactic, no plot twists or anything of the sort. I only wish to do a small story of what would happen if these two worlds mix and I must say, I do like how I've done it so far. I hope you like what I've done as well.

Yes, this will be a NaLu, as I love NaLu, and there will be a slight hint of other ships if you squint although, unfortunately, several ships will not be put in due to, ah, reasons.

Please review what you think of my story!

Chapter 1

The wind-from-south shifted to wind-from-east and Igneel shifted his wings, adjusting to the wind direction.

The day was hot and warm. Prey was aplenty and the glittering river, the Edda River, shone far below. From this high in the air, Igneel could see the hazy shapes of mountains, those that Eragon told him were the Beor Mountains, home of short-legs called dwarves.

Igneel was one of the first wild dragons to be born in their new home, in a cave carved out of a cliff a few leagues from the river with the heat of Saphira-elda's fire to warm him. He remembers Eragon, the man-elf-dwarf-Rider, as he held Igneel with wonder and joy in his eyes and touched their minds together.

And Umaroth-elda, Eldunarí-dragon, had given him a list of names soon afterwards. He chose to name himself after one of the greatest fire-breathers that ever lived.

Igneel wriggled with delight, causing the red-gold of his scales to shimmer with a thousand reflections of sunlight. He had lived up to his namesake well. As he grew, so did his power. He could breathe fire longer than Saphira herself and his flames were as hot as the earth-blood that once kept him warm in the Vault of Souls.

Now, at nearly twenty years of age, his prowess won him Grandine-daughter-of-Saphira, a beautiful pale bluish-white she-dragon, as his mate and their eggs will soon hatch any day now. Pride and joy rushed through him and he let out a roar of satisfaction.

As the ringing sound diminished, he thought he heard a strange cry.

It was not one he'd heard before, but it was vaguely human though much higher than Eragon's shout. It was rather irritating and he would rather ignore it and just continue on his way, but his curiosity got the better of him.

Igneel dove down to the riverbank where he heard the cry. It sounded again and he landed with a heavy thud, flattening the cattails. He looked around, searching, then arched his head and looked into the river. What he saw made him snort in surprise.

It was a pale, fleshy thing that was most definitely human. It was swathed in a blue blanket, lying on a cloth that lined the remains of what could have been a basket or a wicker cradle. And it had the strangest hair-fur color that Igneel had ever seen.

It was pink.

Pink like the flowers that Yaela-silver-hair-she-elf liked to grow by her tree-nest. Pink like the sky in the west as the sun sets. Pink like one of the chosen eggs Eragon kept for Arya-elf-queen-Rider. Pink!

The thing, that Igneel now remembered was called a baby, wailed and Igneel realized there was a stench coming from it. He snorted and shook his head. Dung. The baby's blanket was soiled.

He grumbled to himself and made a decision. He would take the baby to Eragon and the elves. They would know what to do with it. Igneel reached and grasped the baby, cradle and all, in his right paw. With a few flaps of his wings, he surged into the air and went home.

You found him in the river? Saphira-elder-she-dragon asked, her great eye peering at the baby in Eragon-man-elf-dwarf-Rider's arms.

Yes, Saphira-elda.

He must have come from Hedarth, Eragon said worriedly. But that is a dwarven outpost, not a human one.

Alagaësiahas expanded under Nasuada's reign, Saphira reminded him. There could be humans living in Hedarth now.

I'll contact Orik, just in case. He'll find out if anyone there is missing a baby. He looked at Blödhgarm-blue-fur-elf. "Do you know anything about babies?" His voice took on a tinge of embarrassment. "I don't know much about them besides what I observed in Carvahall and among the Varden."

"I will give the baby to Yaela," the elf said, taking the baby. "She and several Eldunarí are teaching the new Riders, but she should have time."

Eragon looked at Igneel. "Thank you for bringing the baby to us. Without you, he would have died."

Igneel blinked and blew a gust of air in his face as a sign of affection before launching himself off the cliff and gliding down to the cave-of-nesting-eggs that Grandine and ten other dragons were sharing.

His beautiful mate was the closest to the cave edge, curled around their eggs. One, a delicate gold, was promised to the Riders and had been taken away by Eragon for Cuaroc-egg-guardian to watch over. The other three, crimson and smoky gray and purple, were to be wild-born. They will hatch soon, what with the abundance of prey and the swelling of the river this spring.

What has happened? Grandine asked, curling her tail protectively around her remaining eggs. I heard the elves speaking to themselves. What is this about a human child?

I found a baby in the river, Igneel told her, settling down next to her. Eragon thinks he came from Hedarth, and he is now investigating.

A baby all the way out here? Grandine tilted her head.

It's strange, Igneel agreed. He nuzzled her head. How are the eggs?

Not a sign of hatching. Moira's two eggs have already hatched. She turned her snout in the direction of a small pale red she-dragon who was watching her two hatchlings, a dark brown male and a dusky orange female, as they tussled. Their sire, a dragon with scales the color of the clouds and eyes like molten gold, was named Weisslogia and he stood proudly by, guarding over them.

Grandine's thoughts became wistful. I would like to see my own hatchlings soon.

You will, Igneel said firmly. I'm sure they'll hatch by tomorrow.

She snorted, but her emotions thanked him for the comforting words. She closed her eyes and laid her head down, drifting to sleep. Igneel continued to watch his eggs, gently poking them with his snout.

Unbidden, his mind wandered to the human child. What was it doing here so far away from its parents? How did it get here? He shook his head, not liking the aura of mystery surrounding the boy.

His heart and mind were uneasy. He stood, careful not to wake Grandine, and lumbered out of the cave. Opening his wings, he leapt out and let the wind catch him. He rose on an updraft and glided towards Yaela's tree-nest. It stood with other tree-nests on the top of the cliffs.

Yaela-silver-hair-she-elf was holding the human baby. With her are the two newest Riders, a male short-leg-Ingeitum-dwarf and a female pale-hair-human-child. They were named Hvosk and Mavis and their bonded-dragons are Skiadrum, a black-scaled male dragon, and Vanilor— named after the first king of the wild dragons— who is Saphira's son. This Vanilor was silver like a coin and his eyes shone like the moon.

The Riders twisted their hands over their sternum in a gesture of respect and Skiadrum and Vanilor briefly dipped their heads to him in acknowledgement.

I came to see the child, Igneel grudgingly said after greeting the Riders.

Yaela smiled slightly. He has been fed a little while before you arrived. He is sleeping now.

Igneel stretched his neck over to gaze into the face of the baby. Its puny hands were fisted in the blanket and a look of peace was on his face.

What is his name?

We do not know yet. As of right now, Shadeslayer is speaking to King Orik about the baby. We will know soon.

He nodded and withdrew from the music of the she-elf's mind. He did not speak to her again, but was content simply looking at the boy.

It was strange, this curious affection and protectiveness he felt for the helpless thing. It looked no bigger than a large rat and if he could, he would reach right over and snap it right up. It looked like it wouldn't even make a good snack.

And yet, something made him stay there. He distantly heard Yaela continue speaking to the Riders, but he did not listen. He simply sat and stared.

It could have been hours, but eventually they felt the mind-thought-speak of Eragon and Saphira and Igneel looked up as Saphira landed next to him. The Riders and dragons and Yaela greeted them and Igneel dipped his head to Saphira who let out a puff of smoke from her nostrils to him before turning to gently lick Vanilor's head.

"I have just spoken to Orik," Eragon said to them. "He says that nobody from Hedarth has been missing a child, nor have they heard of anything of the sort." He cast a puzzled look at the baby. "Umaroth, Glaedr, Valdr? What do you think?"

We have no choice, the mind-thought-speak of Glaedr sounded in their minds. We must raise him here. We cannot leave him to die in the wilderness and even if we do bring him back to Alagaësia, there is no chance that anyone would be willing to take in another baby.

He could even be another Rider, once he grows, Umaroth added. And even if not, we can raise him to be a spellcaster or another caretaker for the dragon hatchlings.

But who will raise him? Yaela asked. The elves can care for him until he is able to fend for himself, but after that, we do not have time to fully raise him when we are teaching the Riders and raising the dragons.

And what of his name? Saphira said. We should name him now.

They were silent. Hvosk and Mavis did not speak, not daring to interfere and nor would they want to. They had no time to care for the baby while they were studying and thus did not contribute to the conversation.

Finally, Igneel spoke. I will care for the child.

They all looked at him with surprise and he could feel Umaroth, Glaedr, and Valdr scrutinizing him. Saphira let out a larger puff of smoke.

You will have hatchlings soon, she reminded him. And a human child is different from a dragon as a rabbit to a hawk. Besides, what would my daughter say?

Igneel blinked, slightly abashed. I know, Saphira. But someone has to raise him. Eragon and the elves will care for the boy until he is old enough but after that, he still requires care and guidance.

She did not move. And how would you care for the child? She snorted. My daughter's hatchlings will be born soon. I will judge how you care for them before I allow you to raise the boy.

Saphira…, Eragon said, a tinge of exasperation in his mind-thought-speak. Igneel will be a capable father.

She sniffed. Grandine is the first to hatch from my clutch. I will be the one to judge him.

Valdr, Umaroth, and I agree with Saphira's terms, Glaedr said dryly. Igneel will have to prove himself worthy to care for the boy. He is much more fragile than dragon hatchlings, after all.

Igneel did not feel insulted from Saphira's words, but his pride smarted from being thought inadequate enough to be the father of her daughter's hatchlings.

The elves agree to your terms as well, Saphira, Yaela said. If you pass, Igneel, you and I will raise the child together.

Thank you, Yaela, Igneel said to her, gently blowing on her face.

But now, for a name, Eragon said. The two of you may choose a name for him together.

They looked at each other. I can think of a variety of names, but I do not know if they would be pleasing to you, Yaela said.

I would like to hear them.

I was thinking of names of the great warriors of lore. If this child is to be raised by a dragon and an elf, he must be fierce. There is Roran, of course, after Shadeslayer's cousin.

Eragon grinned. "While Roran may be honored, I don't think he would like the idea of an unknown man's son being named after him."

Then there is Vrael the first leader of the Riders, Zeref the Sorcerer, Ajihad of the Varden, Natsu the Dragon Slayer, Brom himself—

Wait, Igneel stopped her. What was that one about a Dragon Slayer?

In the war between the dragons and the elves, Umaroth said, there was one elven spellcaster who gained prowess among the ranks for the number of dragons he slew.

That number reached over thirty, Glaedr said. So feared was his power that the elves named him 'Dragon Slayer'.

He was known for his fire magic. It was fire strong enough to fight against the first Igneel himself, Umaroth continued. It was said that they were sworn enemies until Natsu and Igneel gave each other the finishing blows that killed the both of them in one of the last battles before the first Eragon found Bid'daum's egg.

Igneel gave a grin. I will name this child after him. He blew a puff of smoke into the child's face. I wish to name this boy Natsu.

The irony is rich here in this naming, Eragon said wryly. The second Natsu to be raised by the second Igneel instead. He touched the baby's head, as if giving him a blessing. "Behold: Natsu, son of Igneel, Child of Dragons."

And that, for the last time, was how you came to be here with us, Igneel said to a ten-year-old Natsu. The boy was sprawled on his foster father's back, in the hollow at the back of Igneel's neck.

"And Yaela and Uncle Eragon and the elves raised me until I was four years old and you took over," Natsu finished, laughing.

And how I've regretted that decision, Igneel mockingly sighed. All that headache from looking for you all over this place. If only you grew as fast as Vervada, Jura, and Lenora.

"You know you love me, Father," Natsu said just as mockingly. He grinned a wide, mischievous grin as he hopped off. "I have to go; Vervada's going hunting and she's bringing me along."

You be safe now.

Natsu ran full-pelt towards the trees, at the edge of which was the little hut that Yaela grew for him out of a large oak.

A familiar scent filled his nose as Grandine settled down next to him. What is he up to now? she thought amusedly.

Hunting with Vervada.

"Mother! I'm going now!" Natsu shouted, running out of the hut. He waved to them and dashed to his crimson dragon-sister, who had just alighted on the edge of the cliff. He clambered onto her back and together they took to the skies.

Child of Dragons, indeed, Igneel mused, watching them go. The way he called us 'Father' and 'Mother' and Eragon is 'Uncle'.

I have had my doubts in the beginning, but he is a good son, though he gets into so much trouble with Jura and the others. I just wish he would focus on his studies. The elves already have much trouble with the Riders and he just adds to the pressure.

Igneel let out a huff. He's still a growing boy. Let him have his fun now. When he's twelve, Blödhgarm intends to teach him to care for hatchlings and the younger set. That means he'll have to learn responsibility. I'd rather he have all the fun he can get now before he becomes an adult.

I suppose he'll be happy this way, Grandine said. Living so carefree until he has to grow. At least he isn't lonely; he's already befriended most of the Riders.

I still wonder if he'll ever have a bonded dragon of his own.

Eragon and Saphira will give him his chance once he turns 16, when he becomes a man. You know this. Why are you so concerned? She tilted her head, gazing at him with sparkling blue eyes.

Everyone here but Natsu is immortal, Igneel says quietly. He has years left to live, and yet to us, his life will be unbearably short. I do not wish to lose him any more than I wish to lose any of my hatchlings.

Grandine lets out a puff of smoke. I have spoken to Eragon and the elders about this, as you know, but there is no way to let him live forever unless he becomes a Rider.

What if we turn him into what Eragon is?

We cannot. That was for Eragon alone, for he had to defeat the evil king. No, the one thing only is for him to be a Rider.

Igneel snorted, now moody. I feel anxious. I hate to think what would happen if none of the eggs choose him.

He will be chosen, Grandine said with conviction.

I hope you are right, because I do not know what I would do if he wasn't.