Chapter Text
"Clorinde… stay here."
The gentle sound of her mother crested Clorinde's consciousness, alerting her with the dear fact she was in fact — stuck.
Stuck on a stupid goat farm, with smelly livestock. With parents who were too busy to care for her blooming curiosity, and her need for something more.
Her father was busy in town. And her mother needed to tend to the new kids that a bunch of goats had birthed merely weeks ago.
"But that's so boring!" Clorinde exclaimed. Dark curls framed her pouting face. "This is so boring. I wanna help you, mama."
"Maybe on your birthday, hmm?" Her mother wearily smiled. Fingers ruffled her hair. "Okay? I know you think that being twelve is old, but I worry that you'll get hurt. Enjoy your summer while it lasts, sweetheart. You always complain about never getting to just sit and enjoy it."
Well, that was true. But everytime Clorinde begrudgingly walked to school while she kicked the dirt underneath her, the idea of just sitting in the sun and doing nothing felt heavenly.
Yet being told to sit on the spot was beyond frustatingly annoying.
"Okay…" Clorinde relented, tipping her head into the touch of her mothers fingers gracing her scalp. "Fine. How long will you be?"
"I'll be quick."
Her mother walked away from the porch of their small cottage, drifting towards the small barn where they kept their livestock. The babies needed feeding, the mothers needed milking. Later, Clorinde would have to help try and make enough cheese for the weekend, where she'd stand tip-toe behind the counter while everyone cooed about her looking just like her father.
Rinse and repeat.
Clorinde sighed loudly, dramatically letting her head roll to the side.
Distantly, along the forest at the end of her paddocks, she could see flits of a pale blue thrashing throughout the trees. Panicked movements and rustled leaves followed in the creatures wake.
Clorinde quickly uprighted, her heart rate quickening.
Dragons weren't a myth, but they were rare enough if you wanted anything more than a small land one. Hauroa's were hard to find, practically a myth, when almost all of them were in the military or the academy
A wild dragon?
Clorinde bit her lip and quickly looked back at the barn. There was no sign of her mother, yet giving up the chance of seeing something that was practically a myth — in the wild?
She would be stupid to do so.
So, Clorinde found her footing. Braced herself, and ran in the direction of the woods.
The closer that she got, the louder she could hear it. The sharp cries of a panicked creature, screeching and cawing. Like a bird, trapped in a cage.
Clorinde broke the edge of the forest, branches and leaves snapping under her feet. Excitement drew her in closer, adrenaline blotting out the warning signs that surrounded.
The flitting sights of blue; a gentle cream and thicker strips of blue.
The dragon struggled with a rope around its hind leg, panicked caws screaming into the sky. It thrashed wildly, meekly trying to attempt to make any sort of move for freedom.
Large, heavy feathered wings stretched out. Feathers coated its body, a furry underbelly. Large feathers acting as spikes along its long body, all the way up to it's curled horns that cupped its coated, feathered face.
The beauty of a large bird, yet draconic in every manner.
"W-W-Wait!" Clorinde stuttered. She briefly remembered reading somewhere, about a dragon being able to understand the words of a human. "Wait! I will help! P-Please…"
The dragon slowed, cerulean eyes wide in fear. Its long tail slowly stopped moving, sharp claws digging into the surface. Though, slowly, it lowered it's entire body slowly onto the uneven leafy patches of grass.
Clorinde exhaled sharply, relieved she wasn't going to have her head ripped clean off of her anytime soon. She skittered closer until she was inches away from the dragon. "Can I?" She found herself asking, even despite how possibly it didn't understand her.
It did.
Slowly, it lifted it's leg. Large eyes stared at her under feathered eyelashes, but the dragon didn't move.
"There we go…" Clorinde whispered. She didn't bother for the time of day, to truly think about what was happening. Why a dragon would have been trapped in the middle of the forest, a rare one at that. Instead, she focused on undoing the knot — not too difficult, but the noose-like fixture easy enough to trap in a distressed dragon.
The rope fell apart, and the dragon was free.
"There…" Clorinde exhaled with a smile. She beamed and looked up at the dragon. "You're all better!"
The dragon closed it's eyes, and bowed it's head slowly. "Thank you, young one." it murmured, voice a gentle, deep boom. "You have helped me dearly."
Clorinde giggled and bit her bottom lip. "Heh… well, it wasn't that bad!"
The dragon mimicked a slow smile. It tilted it's head slowly, until it pressed the centre of it's head against Clorinde's palm.
Clorinde breathed in sharply. She distantly heard the faint, gentle purr. It reverberated through the dragon, and through her skin. A gentle golden glow followed, and accented her fingers. Curled under her skin and warming up.
The dragon, the Hauroa, pressed it's nose up against her hand stronger, no longer shying away from Clorinde.
Clorinde laughed, eyes widening as she watched the gold accenting taking over her hand. The curled gold slowly forming into a gentle pattern. "Wow! Y-You're… this is so cool. I can't believe—"
Blood sprayed out and replaced the gold on her hand.
The dragon's eyes widened, jaw wide in a silent scream. It's wings feathered in a frenzy, drowning in it's own deep, red blood.
The dragon's body hit the ground, followed by another round of loud shots. Razored arrows embedding their way into the pelt of the gentle creature.
Clorinde stood still. Her hand still reaching out, trying to touch thin air.
She could barely hear the sound of loud hooves against the ground against her quickened breathing. Nor the chants of the people all clad in black, brandishing their voices and crossbows.
Her brain barely pieced it together when her mother came screaming, and grabbed her to drag her out of the forest.
Didn't save the image of the East, spewing their hatred — the followers of Hiliene and their accusations of death touching a child.
The dragon was dead.
꩜ ‧.°. 𖦹.°.‧
Hic.
"I'm sorry… Jun…"
Sniffle. Hic.
"I-I know… I promised. I promised you… Jun. I-I'm so sorry. But the doctor— the doctor she… she said I can't anymore."
"You can't what anymore?!"
"…I can't get pregnant anymore."
Navia couldn't muffle the sniffle while she hid behind the doors that led to her fathers study. Hands rubbed at her eyes, but it was no use to the pain she could feel even hearing the disdain in her father, and the ache in her mother.
"Fucking— this… no. No, they're wrong. I need a son! No one will ever take Navia for what she is. Navia will never prove herself to take over as head of the Caspera house. The council will up-end her—"
"—I know."
"So why didn't you try hard enough?"
Navia's mother broke into another round of muffled sobs, her father banging on his oak desk again.
Navia was a failure.
Her small hands dug into the small, overly big clothes her mother had put her in. She never said it, but it was clearly a full wardrobe fit for a prince, and she was the defect trying to make use of it.
She rubbed her eyes harder, until the tears dried and blotted into little spots in her vision.
And she ran.
Daughter of the South, with all the eyes in the world to watch her, and Navia knew she would never find a way to fulfill the role to the standards that her people would want.
She'd run, and run, and never outrun the fate that would catch up to her.
If the council couldn't deem her invaluable to the throne, then they would call her insane. Too sick to run. They'd marry her off to some other man, run it from behind the scenes, and wait until the heir she pumped out was old enough they could mold it into their satisfaction.
Just like her father.
Navia burst through the doors of her family's estate. Bare feet stomped on dewy grass, the smell of salt water stinging her nose and making her red eyes water again.
Staff cries rang out, a warning to try and keep the sole heir safe. News would spread out at some point, but she'd enjoy the sanctity of freedom for a second more.
Her feet took her to the spiritual pools, past the gates she shouldn't have ever crossed. She wasn't eighteen, she wasn't marked as the heir, but she found herself trespassing regardless.
Her parents wouldn't care enough to know — surely.
Maybe.
Would they care if the sole heir to an entire empire silently broke a tradition that stretched longer than a millenium?
Navia's thoughts were cut off when her legs gave out on a wobbly section. Where the land turned to stone, and melded into the silver wading pools of the House of Caspera, and to the source of the nation's riches.
She scraped her knees on jagged stone, hands flailing to grab at slick pearls. With a yelp, the princess slipped, and fell into one of the deeper wade pools.
Her parents had been weary with keeping her safe. Learning to swim in the safe cocoon of her palace was a world away from the fear of drowning in an unfamiliar place, where she shouldn't have ever been in the first place.
Her hands grappled at nothing, grasping at straws to try and pull herself back up. She gaped and easily let the air escape from her lips.
She was dying.
A pressure surfaced underneath her. Gentle bubbles grew quicker while the pearls that clung to the edge quickly glowed.
With a sharp splash, Navia resurfaced, gasping for air.
A large shadow loomed over her. Cool breath, sleek pale blue scales. Large silver eyes, mimicking blindness, but Navia knew perfectly well.
Nuiwaite.
The imperial class of dragons. The sole reigning hierarchy within the dragonic species, and the only to ever bond with the Caspera house.
"I-I…" Navia sputtered. She was going to be in so much trouble, but the dragon always chose. "Y-You're…"
"My name… is Nuipeare, child." The voice caressed Navia like a gentle whisper.
"I shouldn't have—"
"—seen me?" The dragon chuckled. Her long head slowly turned, silver, knotted horns sprouting from her head, the mimick of what Navia's own house wanted to call a crown. "Princess. This is fate. This is what the pearl wants."
Navia swallowed. The words never made enough sense, but who was she to question a being who was millions of years older than she was?
Her eyes glazed over its long form. Blue slowly melted into a sea moss green over the dragons scales, long body akin to an overly large snake. Large wings clustered closely to it's body, triple finned tail, and fins all the way up it's spine to the crest of it's head.
A pearl inlaid perfectly on the dragon's crown.
Navia struggles to find her breath. The fear of disappointing her father — her kingdom — any further, was a feat she couldn't bare. She knew now she had seen Nuipeare, she would have to bond with the dragon, or else…
Or else what?
"I can't be seen here… Nuipeare…" Navia whispered shakily. Long gone was the strength of the crown princess, and yet for now, she let herself be who she really was.
The scared, young girl, with a whole kingdom on her shoulders.
"I know, child…" the dragon crooned like a gentle mother. Nuipeare gently nudged her head at Navia's. "I know you are worried. I won't force the bond into it's physical form. But I was always destined… to be your protector. You must know that."
"It's not up to me to choose?"
"Never is. Never will be."
Navia chewed her bottom lip. She slowly looked down at her hands, where the cerulean blue mark should've been inked into her skin.
It looked up at her blankly.
"You won't tell anyone?"
"Dear child, of course not. I am here… for you. I look out for you. If you ever call… I will be there."
Navia nodded thickly, the anxiety flooding out. She got up off of her knees and wobbled, arms immediately reaching out to cling on.
Her small arms barely wrapped around Nuipeare's thick neck. Yet, the dragon gently moved her tail and helped lift the child up onto her neck. "Hold on tightly…" Nuipeare hummed deeply.
Gently, the dragon spread her wings, and took off. For her giant height and size, she slunk out of the grotto slowly, and along the edge of the large castle.
Without asking, Nuipeare brought the child up to her bedroom, and very gently landed on the small balcony.
Navia slid off and quickly let go of her. She shyly bowed her head. "Thank you… Nuipeare."
"Anytime, young one." The dragon chuckled slowly. She lowered her head to teasingly nudge her. "I'll see you soon."
"How do you know?"
"I always do." The dragon chuffed. She turned, and quickly spread her wings. With a hard launch, she dove off the balcony, and back down to the darkness of the water.
Barely minutes later, Navia's sniffling mother, and cloudy-faced father appeared. Neither questioned her soaked clothes, or ruffled appearance.
More important matters were on hand — and the track the crown princess needed to take.