Dragon Stories: Cloudpetal (Patreon)

 Cloudpetal was not glad when the Lair by the Sea bought her contract. "No one will take her," said her clan leader. "She is destined for exaltation, never having known the world, or a mate, or love. Won't someone take pity on her?"

Never had she been less happy to have eavesdropped. The humiliation had been overwhelming, and she'd hardly heard Reina and Cheimon's conversation on her way to her new home. She knew her genes were old and cheap and did not suit her, but the thought that anyone would buy her because her clan leader had begged for it burned her ears and grieved her heart.

It was customary at the Lair by the Sea to offer new dragons a change of genes. Cloudpetal hadn't known what to pick and had muttered something about whatever they felt best. So they'd sorted through their hoard and scried her in every possible gene and when they were done, Cloudpetal dared to glance at herself in the still mirrored pond.

And she gasped. She had never seen the interaction of pattern and gene and color that she wore now. She was... why, she was beautiful!

It did not take her long to realize her unique balance of colors and genes was nearly impossible to duplicate. Mates she might have, but her children would inevitably be lackluster, as unwanted as she'd been. How long would it be before her new clan decided that she, too, was disposable?

***

Sensing her depression, one of the gentle hatchling-minders brought her a soft mole for a pet. "To keep you company," Daffodil said softly. And the mole did bring Cloudpetal a great deal of comfort.

The mole--and the dragoness who'd gifted it to her--also sparked an idea.

Finework is not something associated with imperials. They are large dragons, and far more known for their battle prowess and their stamina and strength than their dexterity. Cloudpetal's first attempt to sew a doll went poorly. It was not until she hit on the notion of using magic to handle the needle and fabric, rather than her large hands, that her efforts began to bear fruit.

A few weeks later, she returned to Daffodil with a tiny mole plush, stuffed with her mole's shed fur. "Do you think... do you think the hatchlings would like these?" she asked.

Daffodil took it, wide-eyed. She tried hugging it and exclaimed, "Oh, it's so soft!" And then, puzzled and delighted, "Is it... is that smell coming from it?"

"I put a little lavender in it, too," Cloudpetal said, anxious. "It helps me when I'm nervous. I thought it might calm other people too?"

"This is wonderful!" Daffodil said. "I almost want one for myself!"

"I could make you a pillow," the imperial said shyly.

"I'd like that," Daffodil said. "But I think I need more dolls first. All the hatchlings are going to want one."

***

Cloudpetal thought that the happiest day of her life, until Reina, the clan matriarch, came to her and asked if she'd be willing to make dolls to sell at the clan blanket in the Market.

"Really?" Cloudpetal gasped.

Reina chuckled. "Why not? They're sweet and cleverly made. And you put a lot of love into them, Cloudpetal. There's magic in that."

"I'd... I'd be happy to help!"

Reina touched her foreleg. "I know you would. That's what I liked most about you, when I saw you at the Market that day. You have a generous heart, Cloudpetal. No one talked about it, but it was in your eyes for anyone to see, who bothered looking."

After Reina had left, Cloudpetal just... sat there, holding the mole. All this time, she'd been convinced she'd been selected out of pity. And Reina had bought her contract because... of her personality? And now she was to make dolls not just for the clan's hatchlings, but to sell to enrich the clan's coffers?

"And to think I almost missed out on this by thinking I knew what people thought of me," she whispered to the mole, which nuzzled her fondly. "And I was wrong! I'm so glad I was too." She inhaled, and some knot in her released. "Well. We have work to do. Let's not waste time!"