Chapter Text
It’s been a week since Clara had her first child. Seven days. It still hadn’t shown up. André started to get impatient. “It’s been a whole week Clara” André almost shouted at his wife. Gripping the counter from where he stood opposite Clara, despite the counter separating them, she took a step back. “I don’t want a desunt child!” he spat at her, knuckles turning white as he clenched his fists.
They were in their kitchen, sun slowly working its way down towards the horizon. A heavy, damp scent clung to the air around them, woodsy and warm in contrast to the coldness between them. It usually never took this long for the dragons to drop off the egg. “Can’t you just wait a little longer?” Clara begged tears streaming past her freckles and falling onto her shirt. She tried to wipe them away, but new ones kept coming, rewetting her cheeks.
“Maybe they’re just late, they could be on the way to deliver it right now!” she argued, grappling for a reason, any reason that might make her husband stay. She felt like a mistake, how could she give birth to a desunt child. She was always the odd one, the one who didn’t quite meet everyone’s expectations ever since she was a child. Once again, she proved just how right everyone was to doubt her. She couldn’t even give her husband the child he wanted.
A child born without a dragon is a shame like no other in their society. People born without a dragon become outcasts as they will only ever be able to learn lesser magics. Some people might be lucky enough to still be chosen by an elder dragon who’ve lost its rider. These dragons are old though and their magic might not be what it once was. The bond won’t have had the same amount of time to form. The reason most are assigned a dragon at birth is because the earlier the bond is made the stronger it is. Another reason is that all the young dragons, emberlings, transform around the age of eighteen, this transformation gives each dragon a unique set of powers and a unique scale pattern and build based off of their bonded rider. If an elder dragon bonds a new rider the rider must match that dragon’s powers if a bond is to be made at all.
Being chosen by an elder dragon is very unlikely, dragons who have lost their rider take years to heal from the damage of losing their rider. Some even die because of how strong the bond is. Even if dragons live for hundreds of years this time sometimes isn’t enough for them to heal fully and therefore it seldom happens that a dragon takes on a second rider.
“How can you still think a dragon’s going to show up?” André questioned, as he paced back and forth, feet scraping against the floor every other step. “She’s desunt, what don’t you get!?” His hands were shaking, posture falling the more he paced, turning in on himself.
With red rimmed eyes Clara stared up at her husband with desperation, hands trembling. “That doesn’t mean you have to leave!” she screamed, her eyes shimmered from unshed tears. But they didn’t fall.
Then, suddenly, something shifted. She took a step forward. She lifted her chin, straightened her back. Her breathing calmed. She is not going to beg anymore. She thought. If he wants to leave so bad? Then so be it.
“Why isn’t she enough for you?” She asked calmly taking a few more steps, rounding the counter toward her husband, crowded him by the sink in their small kitchen. “Am I not reason enough for you to stay?”. She stands face to face with him and even though he towers over her he seemed to shrink slightly.
“You know what people at work will think of me...” His voice cracks and he stared down at his feet, shrinking even more. “And you think that’s a good enough reason to leave your wife?!” She was shrieking now. “Does this mean nothing to you?” She held up her left hand, the last daylight bouncing off of the small stone that adorns her finger and has been for the last ten years.
He didn’t answer, just stared down at his feet. She waited but he didn’t say a word. She couldn’t take this anymore, he had obviously already decided that this was over, they were over. “Here, you can have it” she said, oddly calm whilst prying the small ring from her finger. She held the ring in his face. When he didn’t take it, she grabbed his hand, placing the ring in it.
“You can go pack.” She said, as she dried her damp cheeks with the sleeve of her hoodie. No, his hoodie. She started taking that off too. “Pack as much as you can, because you, are never coming back.” Her voice was harsh and so was her movements as she practically threw his hoodie at him. Her hands were in tight fists, her eyes puffy and the last sunlight shone from the small salt crystals streaking her cheeks. Her face was set hard. She does not want a man who thinks it’s reasonable to leave his wife because his child didn’t end up exactly how he wanted. Her daughter is not going to grow up with a father that doesn’t love her unconditionally.