Title: Here There Be Dragons
Author: Kristen Sharpe (with contributions by SageSK)
Date: February 6, 2023
Rating: G
Warnings: None
Genre/Continuity: Alternate Universe where the Kirkland brothers are dragons who can take human form.
Disclaimer: “Hetalia: Axis Powers” belongs to Hidekaz Himaruya and is published by Gentosha, Shueisha, and various other parties.

---

“There’s eggs in the nest.”

Reilley made the announcement over breakfast just as his brothers were having their first sips – or slurps in Alistair’s case – of tea. It had the desired effect. Alistair choked, and Rhys paused long enough it would have been a glorious spray from anyone else. And, of course, he was the first one able to speak.

“Please do not joke about that. It’s cruel.”

Reilley huffed. “Yeh know I wouldn’t.”

Oh, he would tease Arthur mercilessly about anything else. The ween’d more than earned it. But, never about him and Anne failing to have a child. Especially not now. Not almost at the end of the third nesting season since they’d married with no signs of Anne carrying. He wasn’t heartless. They’d all heard the keening in the night. It was a fierce, brave lass Arthur had married, but she had her breaking point.

Alistair finally cleared his nose with a vaporous snort and stalked outside.

Waving away his brother’s noxious fumes, Reilley waited. And, stole Alistair’s bacon. The nest was a natural hollow just beyond the little cottage. They’d all crammed themselves in to wait out the season after Arthur had summoned them, ordered them to guard his wife, transformed, and then tore off in a storm of his own making.

That had been a week ago. Arthur had come back last night. In no mood to talk to anyone but Anne, and they were now twined around one another in their true forms, circling the nest. But, if you peeked between the mass of aquamarine and sky blue scales in just the right spot you could see the eggs.

“Too small an’ they’re the wrong color.” Alistair was back, yanking the door closed behind him. “What did th’ numpty do?”

Something desperate. Reilley had already guessed that.

Nesting season only came every twenty years, after all. Nothing to their kind. Normally. But now, every year free magic faded just a bit more. And, it took no small amount of magic to bring a dragon into the world. In another twenty years, there might be none at all.

Rhys must have reached the same conclusion. He had a hand to his face and was breathing out steam. The room was steadily getting warmer.

“Wait for them to wake up and then ask,” he said at last. “We’ll see what can be sorted out.”

That was putting it mildly. If Arthur had stolen those eggs, he wouldn’t want to give them back. Assuming he’d left anyone to give them back to. Well, problems for after breakfast.

“Ach, did some lizard help himself to my plate?”

Alistair was looking murderous, and Rhys had already been a breath away from burning everything down. Maybe he’d finish breakfast on the go.

“Think I’ll get some air.”

Of course, Alistair followed him outside. So, Reilley took to the cottage roof. It was an easy enough jump.

“It was gettin’ cold,” he defended from his perch.

“Like yer gonna be!” Alistair snapped, though more quietly. Clearly, even he wasn’t interested in waking a nesting Arthur.

“Yeh shoulda just took me word for it.”

Alistair snorted. “Who could accept something tha’ mad?”

Reilley shrugged. “It’s Arthur.”

And, it wasn’t the first time Arthur had adopted. There had been human children before he married. Fragile and short-lived, they had each broken his heart with their inevitable deaths. Though he kept in touch with many of their descendants, and no few were employed by the clan to help mind their human affairs. It had been a boon to them all, but the price paid in Arthur’s heartache was steep. Too steep.

With an easy leap, Alistair finally joined Reilley on the gently pitched roof, though there was no more poison vapor clouding around him. Instead, he took up a perch beside Reilley, looking toward the nest. “Aye. He was bad enough pining at nestin’ time even before he met th’ lass. Since then...” He shook his head. “If this were even two hundred years ago, we’d be to our ears in hatchlings.”

Reilley had to chuckle at that. It was true. Every dragon sought and hoarded something. Alistair favored weapons. For Arthur, it was children. And, his wife was his match in every way.

With a soft thump, Rhys landed behind them.

“What?” Alistair had a mulish look on his face as he twisted around to look at their eldest brother, clearly expecting a scolding. “We’re bein’ quiet enough. If we weren't, they’d have already dropped a hurricane on us.”

A water dragon and a wind dragon. Aye, Arthur and his lass could raise a storm with ease. And, they wouldn’t hesitate to do so to protect a nest with eggs in it no matter where those eggs came from.

“I hate eating alone,” was Rhys’ only answer as he reached into a basket hung on his arm to produce a pair of scones and offer them.

“Ach.” Alistair snatched both and turned away. Reilley was quick to take the next scone offered while Alistair focused again on the nest and Arthur and his lady.

Alistair ate the first scone in a few large bites before announcing. “Don't think it was another dragon he stole from at least. None of the continent types have eggs tha’ small. Not even to the east.”

Because dragons were fast, and Arthur had been gone long enough to reach halfway around the world and back with a good wind.

Rhys sighed, sipping at the tea he had also carried up. “Well, that removes risk of retaliation from one quarter at least.”

“Wyvern maybe?” Reilley wondered. “Haven’t seen one in ages given how bad they are at human forms, but…”

“It’s a possibility,” Rhys allowed.

Reilley brightened as a better possibility occurred. “Sea serpent? That would suit Arthur.”

Alistair huffed. “Jus’ pray they can look human. Too dangerous otherwise.”

That was a sobering thought. It was difficult for land-dwelling beings that couldn’t assume a human or “natural” animal form. Though their small clan did own a good amount of land here and there. Because, sometimes, a dragon wanted to enjoy the sun on his scales.

Rhys was still standing, face pinched in a squint that meant he was probably making contingency plans for every possibility. He tended to be the over-planning sort. When he suddenly raised his voice, it was a surprise.

“Right then, out with it, Arthur,” he called.

Alistair swore, and Reilley readied himself to move. Only Rhys would be so mad as to risk Arthur’s temper like that.

There was a loud huff from the nest. Apparently, Arthur had been awake for a while.

“If it will shut you lot up,” Arthur growled, “they’re griffin eggs from the Americas. The mother was dead when I found them with no sign of a father, so you can stop planning for some retribution.” His raised his head, eyes narrowed and glimmering. “Now, if you would kindly belt up or, better yet, leave,” water vapor trickled out of his nostrils, “so my wife and I can have some peace.”

“Well, tha’ answers th’ mysteries,” Reilley whispered. He pulled out a last strip of bacon he’d stolen from Alistair and gobbled it down. “Good bacon, Alis. Now, I’ll be—”

He was shoved from the roof before he could finish. Some people.

But, that was the way of their clan, he thought as he twisted to land and tossed just enough electricity back at Alistair to set his hair on end. A clan that would hopefully be growing a bit, even if the hatchlings were adopted. There was a bellow above, and he broke into a run, heading away from the nest.

Hmm, griffins were flyers, which meant their magic tended toward sky and weather. Maybe he would finally have a fellow lightning type to train up. Then, Alistair was on him, face as red as his hair, which was now puffed out like a dandelion.

Reilley grinned as he dodged. He was definitely going to be the favorite uncle.