A short story I entered in a contest. It was supposed to be the theme of unmerited kindness, sooo.
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       Rehema ran her talons over the hard eggshell. It glimmered and sparkled under her touch like a rare jewel. In reality the object was much more precious than any gemstone in the world. She could almost hear the little baby inside, ready to break the prison and come into the world.  It was her egg after all. The only one she had ever laid, and probably the only one she would. For nothing in this world is quite as extraordinary as a dragon egg. Rehema had already picked a few names, although she knew the perfect name would come to her when she laid eyes on her darling for the first time. She purred deep in throat at the thought. Up here in the mountains, with the white snow in the Winter, and the rolling green hills and bushes in the Summer, it was a perfect place for a hatchling.

    Rehema padded along the narrow tunnel, she had to go out and hunt. Then maybe she would make a nice stew. It would be a wonderful night for a lamb stew. And she had all the right spices and vegetables. She might invite some of the dragon moms next door, it would be a merry get together. Rehema chuckled to herself at the thought and stretched out her huge tawny wings before leaping off the side of the mountain and catching a nice breeze. In a few minutes she would be back and Rehema could start cooking.

    Unbeknownst to the large dragon, a small figure dressed in the same patchy white as the melting snow was waiting  a few meters away in a sage bush. It was an older human male, still strong in his body but rather lacking in mind. He was present on this particular side of the mountain because of a dare. A rather foolish one, made under the intoxications of firewater and heavy bags of gold. He was a rather cocky fellow, and fear seemed to be little present in the shallow depths of the fool's mind. He went by the name Beolagh, which was the butt of many jokes during his lifetime.

Beolagh hitched up his worn belt with the secondhand sword swinging from the clutches of it's sheath and started up the mountain. In a few minutes he had hoisted himself up onto the ledge that jutted out into the near sunset, a chill in the frosty air. Then, gritting his teeth, he yanked the slightly rusty sword free from the sheath and advanced forward. The cave itself was dark, except for smartly placed hollows or bright vermillion dragon fire. He passed several odd objects, like a bookshelf and a large pewter cauldron. Beolagh just assumed a human lived here previously before snatched up readily by the hungry jaws of a beast with a belly of fearsome fire. Of course he had seen the beast leave, but he hoped it had some shredded scales or broken talons he could bring back as false proof. For no one could just go up against a dragon and survive just like that.

Rehema happened to be a very tidy dragon, and his searching a provided nothing. Beolagh figured he would have to find another beast's lair to stake out, until his witty black eyes landed upon a small oblong objects that's surface shimmered like the moon on a shriveled pond. It was, undoubtedly, irresistibly, and gob smackingly gorgeous. Why, to Beolagh he might as well have stumbled upon all the riches he might ever own. For the dragon egg, laid out in a nest of heather and straw in a tiny corner would fetch a high price. Maybe a price stacking tall enough to pay off the dare, without facing off with a creature ten times his strength and intelligence.

Boelagh leaned his sword against the wall and bent down to pick up the egg, it was heavy, and it almost vibrated with a certain power and quintessence. And when he pressed his ear up to the warm surface he could heat a soft thumping sound. It was a peaceful sensation. Beolagh sighed contentedly and started to move things around in the bag he possessed to fit the egg, which was nearly the size of his head. Until he realized the light from the opening of the cave had disappeared. And a low, but menacing growl sounded from behind him.

Beolagh stiffened, and turned to stare into a glinting eyes of the large mother dragon blocking his exit. If he didn't have his fingers clutched around the protective shell of her egg she would have blasted him to bits. He considered dropping the egg and running for his life, for he had certainly not counted on this.

"Drop it." Rehema hissed, barring her teeth.

Beolagh loosened his grip, but he didn't let go. He needed this egg. Otherwise he would be in deep trouble. But he couldn't leave with it without getting burned to crisp.

So he did the only thing that made sense in his small mind.

He smashed the egg against the ground, and picked up one of the shards. Then bolted.

Rehema let out a cry of agony, like she had been stabbed right through the middle. The back of her throat glowed orange and Beolagh was almost to the door.  Then he turned, and remembered his sword which he had left against the wall.

"GET OUT!" Rehema screamed. "GET OUT OF HERE BEFORE I KILL YOU!"

Beolagh gulped and followed her advice, taking the shard of the egg, which looked like a scale, and never looked back. Rehema was left to hold the broken shards of the egg and cradle the unborn child she would never get to name. It was there amongst the broken shards she made her murder vows.

    The next time she saw that man she would kill him, like he murdered her child.

In the next few months Rehema transformed herself into an old widow so she could collect books to bury her pain. But it was still there. Still burning, seething. And she almost forgave him, until Rehema found Beolagh at a local bar in the middle of the night. She had taken no heed to the arrogant man yelling boisterously to a large group of young peers. Until she caught the word dragon escape his lips.

"I took my sword and I ran, dogging fire blast as I leapt onto his back, then I ripped off this scale with my bare hands, and ran him through with my sword..." He brandished the egg shard and his friends gasped.

After a few minutes of bragging Beolagh excused himself, wanting to leave. Rehema had been quietly seething the is whole time during the story. Rehema left the bar and followed him. Catching his shoulder as he turned into an ally.

"Is there something I can do for you lady?" He asked bluntly.

"You dare lie and say you stayed a monstrous beast, you coward!" She spat, starting to grow.

Beolagh's eyes widened as he stared in horror, at the hissing dragoness before him. Rehema slammed her paws down onto his chest and brought her talons to his throat. He whimpered and searched for any sign of warmth in her cold blue eyes.

"I'm to make you suffer like you made me suffer." Rehema warned, building up a fire in the back of her throat.

"Please! You don't understand! It was a mistake, just a bet! I needed the money or else they would have killed me, or I would have ended up in prison. My mother's been so worried for me lately and I needed something to impress her..."

His words all blurred into one sound. She was reliving the night he killed her child. Her undying scream.

She never really realized he was still a human, That he had a mother out there too. People who cared about him.

Her talons loosed her grip and he squirmed from her grip. Rehema never wanted to see Beolagh again, but she didn't want to kill him. Rehema didn't know if she had the strength left in her. All she wanted to was go home and live out the rest of her days in peace. She was an old dragon now. She trusted that justice would bring Beolagh to his knees. For a crime is still a crime.

When Rehema finally gathered her things, she returned to the human village once more because she forgot her favorite book. As she walked down the lonely mountain road for the last time. She turned the corner and saw a robbery happening before her eyes. The gang left the man penniless on the side of the road, where he moaned pathetically. To her surprise she recognized him as Beolagh. Rehema stared at him for a second, he had no finery left, no place to go.

"Hey short stack, you need a place to crash?"

He looked scared for a second, then took her hand.