Alaia Skyhawk: Here it is, my promised Oneshot of Kilgharrah and Aithusa. Prepare for cuteness and giggles :D

New notebook laptop, with working spell-checker woo!

Disclaimer: I don't own Merlin.

Music: N/A

~(-)~

Dragon & Dragon

The forest and moors flowed beneath them, the crumbled remnants of an ancient tomb now far behind. Towards the ridge of Ascetir they soared, to the place it rose amid the forest of the same name. The high cliff would provide protection from people, and the trees would provide concealment. Just as it's location an hour or so's flight from Camelot meant he could go there in an emergency. But even so, he knew Merlin would avoid calling him, in the knowledge it would either mean leaving this little one alone, or carrying him towards possible danger.

Kilgharrah looked at the infant dragon curled trustingly asleep in the cradle of his claws, Aithusa oblivious in his youth of the significance of his birth... and the fact that he was one of last two dragons alive. He would not know the thrill of soaring through the skies of their ancient homes among the mountains, in the daring games skill against dozens of others. No, he would fly far emptier skies, just the two of them alone.

He tilted his wings at that sad thought, gliding down to the ledge that had been his home for so long now. Looking at it, and the unprotected edges so easy for a youngster to tumble off, he then came to a realisation. If he were to raise this youngster, then first he would need to build a nest to keep him safe on the ledge until he could fly.

Kilgharrah landed on the ledge, forced to balance on his haunches to free up his only empty fore-paw to grab loose rocks to make a temporary affair, gently placing the sleeping infant within that protective circle. He then reluctantly took flight again and left him there, gliding a short distance away before steeply diving to skim the treetops, ripping large branches from the crowns of the trees as he passed over them.

He carried them back to the ledge, using claw and fang to break them into sizes suitable for the task, stacking the pieces into a rough ring at the most sheltered and protected part of the ledge. He then flew off again, returning with more, repeating the action until he realised something... Thick branches on smooth rock have a distressing tendency to slide... He did not want the nest and its occupant taking a dive off the cliff if it got windy.

Kilgharrah sighed, disassembling his circle of wood and stacking the pieces to the side, before flying off to find a clearing where he could land and dig. He returned with two paw-fulls of damp and dense soil, packing them down onto the ledge to provide a more stable foundation for the nest. Which he then resumed making by rebuilding his arrangement of branches in a large circle of some eight feet in diameter. It would dwarf Aithusa at first, but the youngster would need the space once he grew larger.

At that reminder he glanced at the little white dragon, who had woken up and was now watching him with his head resting on the top of his temporary circle of stones. He blinked and tilted his head, before yawning and closing his eyes again.

Kilgharrah smiled at that, even as he flew off once more to the clearing where he'd gotten the earth, now making several trips back and forth collecting grass and small-twigged bushes with which he could pad out the inside of the nest and reinforce its structure. He'd never raised a young one before, but like all dragons had he knew how to build a nest. Dragons did not make these for their eggs, like wyverns or birds did, since the precious shells were always entrusted to a Dragonlord until it was decided it was time for the infant within to be hatched. In this they were different than all other egg-laying creatures who used nests, in that they were purely to shelter the young after they had broken from their slumber and emerged into the world.

And Aithusa had waited for that day for a long time, over four hundred years of dormancy. His egg had been laid during a time when Dragons had been at their peak, and yet now he was born into a time when they were almost extinct... Kilgharrah wanted to make sure he did this right.

It was dawn by the time he'd completed the nest to his satisfaction, and tenderly moved the infant from the hard circle of rocks to the warm and soft cradle of earth, branches, and leaves. A tiny curled bundle of white scales against a bed of green. Kilgharrah now settled himself on the ledge beside the nest, tucking his head under his wing and finally allowing himself to sleep. Feeling a greater sense of peace than any he'd known in a long time. His slumber was dreamless, more a light doze than true sleep... That is until he was abruptly woken by the most unholy racket.

Aithusa, creeling for food and shrilling that demand at the top of his little voice.

Kilgharrah jolted awake, aware now that the sun had risen only midway into the sky. Barely two hours had passed since he'd gone to sleep, and now he was faced with finding food for the hatchling after the little white dragon had probably already succeeded in scaring everything within a half-mile radius away.

He took wing, forced to ignore Aithusa's outraged squealings at being left alone when he wanted to be fed now. And it was also now that a certain disadvantage to this area became apparent... It's rather hard to hunt something in a hurry, when you're in the middle of a forest with only a handful of places in it big enough for you to land. The flustered dragon was forced to fly a full half-hour to the west, close to Ealdor, before he found an area of meadows scattered with herds of grazing deer.

It took barely a few moments to swoop out of nowhere and grab one, but that did nothing for the fact that by the time he got back to the ledge, Aithusa had been demanding food for over an hour and was still screaming his lungs out. At that moment, Kilgharrah resolved that from now on he would make sure to keep food on hand at all times until the infant dragon was old enough to understand the need to stay quiet. That there were no people in this immediate area now, meant nothing, for there was always the possibility that some may pass close by. Neither dragon needed for the younger of them to advertise their presence every time his stomach was empty.

Kilgharrah sighed as he placed a chunk of the deer on the side of the nest and left Aithusa to eat his fill of it, setting his head down on the ledge and closing his eyes. Now would be as good a time as any to resume his sleep.

A few minutes later he flinched as something small struck the side of his snout, peeling open his left eye to look at the nest and its occupant. Aithusa was looking up over the edge of it, watching him, before grabbing another shred of deer hide in his teeth and flinging it at his larger relative.

That piece almost got Kilgharrah in the eye, and he plucked it away with a claw even as he resigned himself. Apparently, just-fed hatchlings had only one thing on their minds... play.

He turned to face the nest more fully, lowering his head so that with a puff of air from his nostrils he sent Aithusa tumbling backwards croaking in indignation. He then stuck his head in the cradle of branches, ticking the up-ended hatchling with the end of his snout.

Aithusa's grumblings turned to playful growls, as he attempted and failed to wrap himself around the end of his guardian's nose. But even if he lacked the size yet to do that, he still managed to clamp himself onto Kilgharrah's scales to gnaw on them in mock tussling. And when the adult dragon tired of that, he swapped head for paw and allowed the hatchling to try to wrestle with a set of fingers and talons of which even one digit alone massed more than he did.

It was now, watching Aithusa play, that Kilgharrah's expression softened with paternal sweetness. His earlier flustering forgotten, he now simply enjoyed the moment. Musing to himself with closed eyes until he realised that he no longer felt anything scrabbling around his paw.

He looked sharply down into the nest only to find it empty, and then spot a certain infant dragon had crawled out of the nest and was now chasing a butterfly perilously close to the rim of the ledge. Heart in throat, Kilgharrah swiftly moved to pluck Aithusa back to safety, the hatchling squalling in protest at being put back into the nest. He then promptly began climbing out of it again, and Kilgharrah realised that in truth he was going to be left flustered by this little bundle of white scales for quite some time.

No youngster of any species ever gives its parents or foster parents the chance to relax... certainly not if that parent is raising said youngster on a rock ledge sixty feet above the forest floor. And as Kilgharrah picked up and returned Aithusa to the nest for the third time, he started to wonder.

Merlin had raised an infant wyvern... So maybe, just maybe, he might have an idea or two.

~(-)~

Alaia Skyhawk: But, of course, Kilgharrah is forgetting that Merlin is a Dragonlord, and Friou was old enough to obey commands from him... However, Aithusa is too young for that to be of any good. I love writing Kilgharrah as being flustered by Aithusa, it's just so cute hehehehehe! :D

And ok, I may do a sequel to this since the end of this lends itself to that. If I do, I'll call it "Dragon, Dragon, and Dragonlord" XD