Chapter 54
Chapter 54
“Mama! Mama! Mama!”
“Luc! Go away!”
“Wake up mama! Wake up!”
“Go back to bed! The sun isn’t even up yet.”
“Yes it is!”
“No it isn’t”
“It is! I can see it!”
“Just because you can see in the dark doesn’t mean it’s morning!”
“But mama! I want to go flying mama! You promised me we will go flying!”
“I said tomorrow morning! Does this look like morning to you?!” To emphasize his point, Draco crawled out from under his nest of blankets and waved his hand. Without opening his squinted eyes, that is. If he did, he would have been very surprised that it was indeed morning. Perhaps even midday…
But any onlooker would have been far more shocked by his surroundings. Especially had they ever been this high up in the Bone Mountains. Because while the highest peaks overlooking the Poison Sea remained just as desolate and covered in snow as ever from afar, up close it was a very different story.
Because a Malfoy?
Even one that took on a new name would never be satisfied with living as a Cave Man. Oh, Draco was perfectly capable of survival in the wilderness. But only if the situation called for it. He wasn’t some magic-less dunderhead who would die without supplies after all.
And yes, he did stay in a cave at first. It wasn’t even that bad. Considering the Wards and Warming Charms, that is. But it wasn’t comfortable. It certainly wasn’t up to his standards. And for the love of Merlin, it sure as Hell wasn’t home!
So when he got his hands full of an unplanned child, on one hand he was freaking out. But on the other?
He was relieved.
He now had a legitimate excuse to stay away from ‘civilization’.
Because while he could try to find his place in this unwelcoming world, could even conquer a ‘Free City’ to stroke his own ego. But what would that do? Only call attention to himself. And thus make him vulnerable. A target. Because what assets does he have? Besides his magic, his inheritance and a child on his hands?
He doesn’t have powerful relatives.
He doesn’t have the support of the population.
He doesn’t have loyal comrades. (Or minions…)
He doesn’t have an army.
He would get nowhere.
Especially when looking at the history of house Targaryen. Because he isn’t one to repeat the mistakes of others. He isn’t some rash Gryffindor that needs to conquer some barbarians in order to feel powerful and stroke their overinflated ego. He doesn’t want a measly 300 years of power for his ‘conqueror’ descendants compared to 8000 of some respected houses. And more than anything, he doesn’t want to be stuck in the muggle Middle Ages for the rest of his life!
He wants Magic!
He wants a family!
He wants a Manor to call his own. A place to feel safe. He wants comfort!
And he will have it.
He isn’t a mage for nothing after all. More so, he doesn’t even feel human anymore. Not after the surprise that was his inheritance, that’s for sure…
And so he decided to stay. Right there in the Bone Mountains. Because it was a place no sane person would ever willingly inhabit. A place no one would ever think to look for him. Or for magic.
So Draco, likely affected by his dragon-self in its nesting frenzy, went a little overboard. And his intention of making a small home in the mountains went out the window. Because the Palace his magic shaped the Peak into? It was anything but ‘little’.
And he and his little one were stuck with a polished monstrosity that regardless of Draco’s futile attempts to furbish and decorate, remained rather barren save for a couple of rooms. But then again, maybe he should have had some second thoughts over styling the thing after a bizarre combination of the Durmstrang Institute and Malfoy Manor.
And that was a good thing.
In a way.
It gave him motivation. A reminder what he must strive for. And hopefully, in a few decades, these empty halls will be full of laughter and magic. He will make sure of it. And if he has to nurture a thousand dragon eggs and blood adopt all those babies (because that was exactly how the Basilisk-binding rituals acted when induced by his power in this world) and buy (or ‘liberate’) millions of squib slaves of Valyrian descent?
He would do it in a heartbeat.
Not forgetting the bloodline servitude contracts of course. Or creating a very rigid hierarchy. Because one thing he doesn’t want is a repeat of the Dance of the Dragons.
And if the mudbloods of his old world would scream that such actions are barbaric and inhumane? Who even asked them? They were always nobodies. Their only use was to dilute stale bloodlines. Nothing more.
And who even cares about being ‘humane’? He certainly doesn’t. And neither would his children. Not that he is human any longer. And teaching his offspring the benefits of democracy and human rights in this world would be doing them a great disservice. Because here? Only the strong survive to see the dawn.