Of Wolves and Wings

Chapter Two-Then

The first time we met I was six and you were eight. People tell me now I was too young to remember anything from that age. And they would be right, to an extent. I don't remember most of what happened back then, sure. I don't want to remember most of it. But I remember you.

My family and I spent every summer with my Aunt Hilary, my dad's sister, in Haven Grove. My mom had taken my brothers and I to the park to get us away from our dad for the afternoon. He was close to his next big break and needed the peace and quiet to think. He was always close to his next big break, which meant we went to the park a lot. It was the cheapest way to entertain three kids in those days.

Anyway, I was crying because my brothers had demolished my sandcastle. I had made the most exquisite castle for my stick princess. She was just waiting for her prince to ride up on his white horse and save her when Adam came up and trudged right through the middle of it.  When I whined about it later he had the nerve to tell mom it was an accident. I'm not sure how he pulled that one off. It was quite clearly deliberate. Though, if you were a male in my family that meant that you got away with most things.

"Stop dreaming, you'll rot your brain away. You're too ugly for a prince to ever come and save you anyway." That's what he had sneered at me before running off to join Alex in making a fort out of rocks. He was mean, even at the young age of seven, and it only got  worse as he aged. Aaron, my other brother, was a little better, but not much. Whether it was a meanness born of nature or nurture, there's no telling. I remember looking around for my mom, expecting her to jump in and scold Adam like she usually did when he did something mean and Dad wasn't around. That was the only time she was allowed to get onto them. When Dad wasn't around. She was busy talking to another mom, though, and hadn't noticed my despair.

So, I plopped my little  in the sand next to my ruined dreams and sobbed quietly. And then that's when you showed up. One of so many times and so many ways that you saved me. My white knight on his trusty steed. Or, tricycle, rather.

"Why are you crying?" I startled and whirled around to find you standing there, staring down at me with a gentle smile on your face. You had the clearest blue eyes I had ever seen. Later, I learned that they were a trademark feature of your kind. On that day, though, I remember thinking they reminded me of the sky when there were no clouds in sight and the sun was shining bright.

"My meanie brother called me ugly and destroyed my princess's castle," I said with a sniffle, trying to suck up my tears so I didn't look like a crybaby in front of a stranger. I held up my stick princess to show you.

"He must need glasses," you said, tilting your head to one side and then the other. "You're not ugly. You're actually really pretty. Prettier than all the other girls around here."

"My name is Andi," I said shyly. I was a little chubby at that age, my wavy blonde hair often flying free and wild around my face, freckles spotted across my nose, green eyes. No one but my momma had ever called me pretty before.

"My name is Bentley," you said and stuck your hand out for me to shake. I wanted to tell you that you were pretty too, but I knew that was silly. Even though your black hair was so silky I thought it must be softer than the best feather pillow and your skin was creamy white.

I smiled back at you and wiped my eyes before giving your hand a shake.  "Would you like to help me rebuild my castle Benny?" I didn't know I had said your name wrong, having never heard a name like Bentley before, but you never did correct me.

"Of course," you said, sinking smoothly to sit cross legged in the sand next to me. "A princess has to have a castle. How else will she be safe from the dragon?"

I gasped and widened my eyes dramatically. "A dragon?"

Momma had read me a story about dragons when we had taken a trip to the library instead of the park one day.  I remember that being one of the best days of my little life so far. My brothers, ridiculing the idea of reading instead of playing rough and tumble outside, had grumbled the whole way there. Momma had sat in a big rocking chair with me in her lap, all snuggly and cozy, and told me the story about a princess slaying a dragon. "One day, my princess, you are going to have to slay your dragons. I know you can do it, though. You're a strong one." And then she had kissed my head and gave me a big squeeze of a hug. That was right before my brothers toppled a shelf of books and got us kicked out. Not much has changed.

"A dragon," you said solemnly, blue eyes seeming to see to my very heart. "And, you have to have a knight to stand guard at the princess's castle. That will be me." He smiled a wide smile and proceeded to search for a stick to make his knight for my princess. "I'll always protect your castle, my princess."

And together, we built the most epic sandcastle for my princess, even better than the one I first built. It had a moat and a leaf flag and everything. Your mom called you to leave then, but you promised that you would be back soon. I didn't know at the time that she was a nanny and not really your mom. You didn't tell me when, but I believed you. Enough that my six year old self risked the ire of my dad to bug my mom daily until she took me back to that park.

And so, just like that, you earned the title of my official, dragon slaying knight. Little did I know that you would assume that title again when it mattered most.