Fates of the Unicorns 82 - Bloom

Story by DragonTalon on SoFurry

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#82 of Fates of the Unicorns

Not my normal kind of story, but I had to write it after seeing a sketch of baby Rahmor. I've wanted to write about dragon hatchlings for a while now, so it was a good excuse!


Fates of the Unicorns - Chapter 82 - Bloom

This long running Master and slave themed story series continues the journey of dragons, unicorns and the rest of the furry races in a world threatened with extinction by a monstrous threat. The furry races are grateful for the sacrifice dragons make in fighting the war, but would be much happier if the dragons would just stop trying to enslave them all!

_ SPOILER WARNING : _This chapter takes place in the past and does not contain any spoilers and can be read safely if you are new to the series. Further chapters will be full of spoilers however, and if you like this one I highly recommend starting at the beginning.

Fates of the Unicorns Fates of the Unicorns is the cover and a good place to start for new readers.

(Thanks to all my long time and new readers.

Don't forget to Favorite the chapter you like it!

It's a big help and means a lot to me. Thanks!)

He had been waiting all his life for this moment.

There was nothing to do but wait. His entire existence comprised of the warm darkness and the voices he could hear from somewhere else. He had been content to wait, but no longer. Something changed. He no longer felt satisfied to lay there, he wanted something else. Out. He wanted out, and he wanted out now. It was a new experience, to want something. It felt good to want something. He squirmed, trying to move, needing to move. Jerking back and forth with the effort. Moment by moment his struggles grew stronger, his desire to escape overwhelming.

Waiting was a distant memory now as he thrashed, jerking his head back. Crack! A splinter of light lit his world, another new experience. He blinked at it, only able to see a blurry dimness but he wanted more! He wanted to TAKE that shiny glowing stuff. To have it. Possess it! He slammed his head back again, horns stabbing at the thick shell of his egg. Crack! More light flowed in and he strained, hammering again and again until a large shard broke off, leaving a hole big enough to see even with his new and blurry sight.

He reached up with a hand, claws stretching for the hole. First only able to paw at it, but soon growing more confident and secure as he grabbed at the shell and started to claw at the edged, pulling bits of it away, his body thrashing harder.

The egg suddenly cracked in a network of spidery fissures, the small hatchling feeling it weaken and kicking with his feet. The egg shattered, bursting into a dozen sections as the dragon spilled out onto the warm sand. He squirmed and twitched in exhaustion and took in a long shuddering breath, coughing out before drawing in another. It felt so GOOD to do that, and for a long while he just lay there breathing in and out as his vision cleared, the world coming into view around him.

There were other large objects around him, just like the pieces laying around him. So much stuff. It was all his. He didn't understand what any of it meant, but he knew that all eh saw was his.

"Oh dear, it looks like we have the first hatch of this clutch, and such a pretty one," said a brown equine with black spots. She had a small notepad with her as she stood alongside the large clutch of eggs, some of which were starting to twitch as well. "Mistress, they are hatching."

The blue hatchling looked up at the shape, immediately furrowing his brow and letting out a "grooowf" that ended in a high pitched squeak. Intruder! He didn't know what that was, but he instinctively knew it was OTHER. He let out another squeaky growl. His eyes turned to see another shape, this one a dull red, instantly recognizing her as one of his own. He flopped forward at the smaller furry one, jaws wide, ready to attack the intruder and protect his kind.

Jessis scooped up the blue hatchling before he could reach the mare, holding him up in her red arms, "Which one is this, slave?"

The slave checked her notes, eying the markings on the shell. "It's listed as, Rahmor. Warrior breed."

The hatchling didn't like being picked up. He strained to reach the furry other, to claw and bite and protect. His tail thrashed and large wings spread, trying to flap.

"Yes, yes little one... I know. She is not a threat." Jessis snapped her tail in the air, making a cracking sound as she turned her head to the slave attendant, "Kneel."

The mare dropped to her knees obediently, head lowering.

The blue hatchling thrashed for another few seconds, then stopped as he saw the other submitting to the bigger red one. He had no thoughts, not yet, but simply felt thing sliding into place. Like a click in his head, the fuzzy other thing was down below him. Where it should be. Satisfied, he turned his attention to the one holding him. He let out another growl and tried to get free, small hands and feet struggling to grab and grapple.

"No no no, behave" said Jessis sternly.

The hatchling ignored her words. The sounds were familiar, having heard them all his life from within the shell. But he didn't know what they meant, not yet. But he didn't like the sound of that one. No. "Grrowpf!"

Jessis narrowed her eyes and shifted her grip. With practiced ease she pinned the squirming limbs and held them tight, staring at the small hatchling.

The blue creature struggled, but the grip was painfully tight, and he was so very tired and hungry. Another 'click' went off in his head, and he simply hew he must obey this one. He stopped squirming and looked back at her... the world was the three of him. Her on top, him in the middle, and the fuzzy other below them both. That settled he opened his jaws wide. He was HUNGRY!

Jessis said, "That's good, Rahmor. Your name is Rahmor. Rahmor."

The blue cocked his head. Hungry! Want!

"Rahmor..." repeated Jessis.

Tiny ears turned to the sound, hearing it bounce around in his head. He flicked out his tongue, trying to taste it. "Rah.."

Jessis nodded encouragingly, "Rahmor."

"Rah..more!" managed the dragon, liking THAT sound. "Rahmor!" he said in a squeaking voice.

"Yes, that is you, Rahmor." The dragoness patted him on the head, and regarded his wings. "Pity... those are far too large for a warrior. Too well developed to have removed. He will find a place among the crafters, take him to the builders crèche. He is a strong one and will do well there."

Rahmor watched as he was held out to the furry other, then handed off to her. Food? He stretched his neck out at her chest, "Ahhhh!"

The slave giggled softly, "No dear, I don't have any milk for you. There will be milk soon."

Rahmor growfed in frustration then struggled, he wanted food, he would find it. He wanted down!

The mare began walking away when she suddenly yelped in pain, Rahmor's mouth clamped over her arm. "Nnnrgh! Ow ow ow! Stop that!"

Jessis tsked and took the hatchling from the mare, "Behave! Wrap that wound, I'll take him myself."

Rahmor licked at the blood on his fangs, wanting more, but his food was moving away. He pouted, wings flapping.

As she walked the dragoness shook her head, "Calm, you hatched too soon, there are no wet nurses for you here. You will get your food, you greedy thing."

Rahmor squirmed still. He struggled between the instinct to stay still like the big red wanted and to break free and find food. He twitched and whined, then blinked as they emerged into bright sunshine. He thrashes his tail in agitation, making grumpy sounds when a shadow passed overhead. He looked up and froze. He didn't know what that was, but it was BIG. So very big. Powerful. Not dragon, but not other either. Huge wings outstretched, the drake glided overhead, his dark blue color a near match to Rahmor's own scales. There was another click in his head, but far stronger, like a heavy block of stone pushed into a slot with a resounding thunk. That. He wanted THAT. He reached up, wings straining. "Rawr!"

"Stop your fussing, it's just a drake," it wont hurt you.

Rahmor squirmed, wings spreading, wanting to fly like the big blue thing. Both arms scrabbled in the air reaching out for it, wings flapping. His eyes tracked it as it flew overhead, then behind a building. He snarled and struggled harder, upset that it was getting away! He screeched after it, demanding it come back! "Rrrrarrrf!"

The equine rubbed at her arm, "Mean little thing." She then flushed as she walked behind the red dragoness, "Sorry Mistress, I didn't mean to insult my better."

Jessis laughed as she walked into another of the brick buildings, this one filled with several dozen sleeping hatchlings and a mix of furry female slaves and dragoness. "You are just a new egg counter, you have never dealt with hatchlings before?"

"No Ma'am."

"Do not hurt them of course, but do not treat them as Masters and Mistresses. They are just hatchlings, not dragons yet. Valuable, but not to be obeyed. How silly, to obey or respect a hatchling. Come, the rest of the eggs will be hatching. Once you have recorded them all, return here for further training."

Rahmor was once more handed off to another fuzzy thing, but this time before he could protest he was pressed to her chest, feeding instinctively. He closed his eyes, his mind empty but for the pleasure of feeding. It took two of the wet nurses, one furry and one dragoness to sate him, and then he was set down on a comfortable bed and quickly slipped into a satisfied sleep. Only in his dreams did he see that huge blue shape flying over and over him, each time getting close and closer to his grasping claws. Drake!

...

Rahmor woke with a start, jostled by another hatchling as it clambered over him. He immediately took a swipe, sending the other hatchling scurrying off with a yelp. He snorted in pleasure as he stood, looking around. Without any conscious thought he divided the room into several groups. One was the hatchlings and larger dragons, they were him. His kind. Then the fuzzy things. Those were other, not his kind. The memory of the kneeling mare came back to him, and even though he was small, all the fuzzy things seemed to lower somehow, fitting in below all the dragons. The dragon group further split, the big ones on top, the little ones underneath. As he gazed around the room it became clear the other hatchlings were smaller than he was. Not by much, but noticeable to his eyes.

Rahmor stretched, ears perking at the various sounds. Most of the speech coming from the large ones, but a few words here and there coming from the others. He spoke the only word he knew, "Rahmor!"

Several hatchlings came to curiously sniff at and look over the new arrival. Having all hatched at near the same time, the small group surrounded the blue.

Rahmor rose from his haunches to wobbly stand, then steady as he regarded the others. He could sense their curiosity, and their acting as a group. He felt alone, wanting the protection of such a gathering. He felt the need to surround himself with others for protection. To fight off any others that might try to harm him, or his kind. He wanted to join them, and so he followed his instincts.

...

The brown mare watched the blue wake, rubbing at her arm where he had bitten her earlier. She had only been assigned here recently, numbering eggs, turning them, keeping the sands warm. Dragons confused the heck out of her still, even after years of captivity. When she heard she would be assigned to the hatching crèches she had been thrilled. If there were kind and gentle dragons, they would be here. The dragons here were different, but not how she expected. They were calmer, more gentle.. but no motherly instincts at all. They treated hatchlings like animals. Raising them in herds, talking at them but never to them.

Now the blue was surrounded by three others. She smiled, how cute. He was making friends all ready. Then she gasped as the blue jumped, not even a trace of yesterdays wobbly motions, but a predatory jump as he landed on the nearest of the three, sending the little thing to the ground. The other two hatchlings moved to grab but backed off as the blue snapped at them with a growl, the one under him whining.

She got up as the blue pinned the poor little hatchling under him but was stopped by a hand.

"Let them be, they are just working out their hierarchy," said a dragoness.

"Yes Mistress, but..."

"But what?"

"What if he hurts them, Mistress? Shouldn't we keep them safe?"

"Of course not. They must learn their place, and sometimes if they can't decide they fight it out."

The mare winced as the blue planted his big foot right on top of the others head, not liking the whimpering cries. "He's hurting that one. What if he doesn't stop? He could kill him."

The dragoness shrugged, "Then we will know he is defective and can be put down early."

The mare gasped, "You would kill a baby?" She added hastily, "Mistress!"

"It's not a baby. Your kind have babies. They are just hatchlings, not dragons yet."

The mare watched the little blue, now scared for both of them. But as quickly as it started it was over. The blue settled down, actually perched on the other who now just sat there, not seeming to mind while the others all gathered close. She didn't want to argue with a dragoness, but couldn't help asking, "But Mistress, they are still dragons, even if they are small. Being small doesn't mean worthless, they are baby dragons, not animals."

"It's not their size, slave. They are hatchlings! They are certainly NOT dragons. They are animals. You and I are people, we think. Hatchlings do not. They only have instincts, no real sense of self. They just react, living for the moment. Search for their place. Only when they are older do they awaken, and become dragons able to do more than serve dragonkind."

The mare bit her lip, looking out at the hatchlings, "But.. they can't even talk. How can you know they don't have thoughts, Mistress?"

The dragoness looked surprised as she turned to face the mare, "Why, because we all remember our own hatchings and awakenings."

The mare looked back, equally surprised, "You remember your own birth, Mistress?"

"Of course, we remember being in the egg too, although there really isn't much to recall, other than waiting and hearing sounds. You don't remember your own hatching?"

She shook her head, "No Mistress, I don't remember anything until I was... maybe three or four years old. I didn't hatch either, I was born."

Both of them watched as blue growfed again as his seat shifted, thumping his tail on the hatchling under him until it lay there with a little whine. He liked the position, and was content, for the moment.

The dragoness shuddered, "Maybe that is for the best. I would not want to remember THAT process. How disgusting, squeezed out like that. No wonder you furries are so disagreeable as hatchlings and even younglings. It must be very traumatic." He looked back at the group, "See, no harm done. The blue changed the pecking order. Like all dragons he will be on top with some groups, and on the bottom with others. Watch and see, he will find his place."

...

To the chagrin of the dragoness, Rahmor didn't settle into a group at all. One by one he encountered each grouping and growled, smacked or sat on the leader until he grew bored and restless. While the other hatchlings played with various toys, he just used them to smack others around when he challenged them. Soon the other dragons simply submitted, much to the annoyance of the blue who seemed to have more energy than the rest and the need to constantly test himself against everyone around him.

He found displeasure with the big fuzzy others that were not his kind that were always too many, too near. He didn't like them always being so close to him, and the other hatchlings. He tried to chase them off, snapping and biting whenever he saw them coming for him, or any others of his own kind. Why did the big ones stop him? He had to protect his kind from the others, his uneasiness making his instincts to protect his own kind against external threats going into overdrive.

Rahmor sulked, unsatisfied with the hatchlings around him. Didn't they like to fight? It had been several days and he felt restless. Something was wrong but he didn't know what. He didn't have the words, or even the concepts to understand it. He wanted something, something that wasn't here. Once more he tried to escape, and once more a fuzzy thing stopped him from leaving the area. He snapped and clawed at her, but a dragon pulled him away before he could make his wishes known. "Out! Out!"

"No Rahmor, you can't go out. Stay here, play with your toys."

Rahmor was dropped to the floor, crouching low and challenging the big dragon. But she just turned and walked away. Bigger or not, he was getting pissed. The other dragons here did not fit. They were not like him. They wrestled and played but he fought to win, and they always gave up so quickly. He had had enough and he kept at the large dragoness, wrapping around her leg and snapping at it!

"Yelp!" The dragoness staggered and pulled at the dragon, "Stop that! No!" But the blue didn't obey. She had to reach down and pull him off, leaving her own marks on his metallic blue hide before pushing him away. And yet he came back, needing several pushes and swats before he finally sat back, panting and looking up at her defiantly. "This one might be defective after all."

The mare had been watching, wincing visibly as the blue was beaten off the larger dragoness. "Mistress... maybe he needs bigger hatchlings to play with? If I understand it, he was bred from warriors?"

"He is no different than any other hatchling. He will find his place, or he won't."

The brown and black mare looked at the blue sadly, "Please help him, Mistress? Everyone deserves a chance to bloom."

The dragoness looked at the mare thoughtfully, "Dragon breeding is a complex process, carefully directed by the breeding clan. They decide the overall mixing of various bloodlines. Usually two warrior dragons will produce warrior offspring, with similar bodies and mentality. His parents were ground fighters, wingless. His wings indicate recessive genes in both parents were activated, that and the size of them makes him not well suited for combat. But... maybe you have a point, as new as you are. He does seem to have their temperament. There may be a place for him there, even if his wings are a liability, he will serve the empire until he dies. Very well, I'll arrange the transfer."

The mare smiled, relaxing. "I think Rahmor will be happy elsewhere, and the others will be better off too!"

Rahmor looked over as he heard his name, and other words. He didn't understand many yet, but every day more made sense. Everything else should be making more sense too, but it's wasn't. He growled, distracted by his unease again, looking for the source of it again, spotting a hatchling nearby poking at a set of wooden blocks. Maybe THAT little one was causing it...

"YELP!"

...

Rahmor woke the next day to being lifted by one of his own kind, struggling until he was smacked on the head. He settled down and let himself be carried, sensing something was different. He dismissed the room of weaklings as soon as he left it. Out of sight the images left his mind, simply not a concern. The memories were still there if needed, but the NOW was so powerful, so important. Only what he saw now was of immediate concern. Outside he looked up into the blue sky, troubled but unsure why. He squirmed a bit. He wanted something. Something big.

Once more he was brought into another of the big square boxes, taken deeper inside and set back onto the floor, falling onto his rump in an undignified fashion.

"Those are quite a set of wings, I'm not sure this is the best place for this one," said a dragoness already in the room.

"I have watched him the past days, he is simply not fitting in. Wings or not, it's either the warrior crèche or disposal. He was becoming a disruption to the rest, keeping them from finding their own Places"

The other dragoness crouched down to look at the blue, deciding his fate, "Well, other than the wings he really is a fine specimen. Pity to not give him a chance. Might as well see how he does."

Rahmor watched the two big dragons talk, getting to his feet and walking into the area clearly set aside. These dragons were different, they were bigger, some even bigger than him. Several approached, and just like before they naturally encircled him. One reached out to grab at his wing, there were only a few others with wings here, all much smaller than his. He jerked it back with a growl, and another grabbed for him. He turned and with two hands gave the hatchling a shove to push him back like he had done with the others.

This time the other stumbled, but didn't fall and pushed Rahmor not just with his hands, but shoving in with a shoulder to send Rahmor flying back and onto his rump once more. Ooof! He blinked in surprise, and then pulled his lips back in a grin, leaping upwards with wings spread happily, "RAWR!"

The two dragons watched Rahmor battle with the other hatchlings, the well-defined pecking order disturbed by his entrance, "Well, he sure is acting like one of them. Let's see where he winds up. If he ends up at the bottom we will have to send him back."

Rahmor didn't care what the two big ones were saying, the words going over his head. He picked the biggest dragons to challenge, and with only experience fighting the others he quickly lost. But he learned just as fast, and it did not take too many challenges before others were submitting rather than fight him. He slashed his tail back and forth in satisfaction, a vague memory of the other crèche in his head, of dragons giving up there. This was different somehow. He didn't have the words to know the difference between fear and respect, but he certainly knew it in his heart.

Then there were no more concerns with fighting. It was feeding time again, and then sleep. Life was good.

...

Rahmor woke with the others, cuddled in a pile of half a dozen other hatchlings. He smacked his lips as he yawned widely. Now that he had his place settled, he began to look around. Other dragons were stirring, some groups up already. He rose and stretched his wings, making others move out of the way or get poked.

The blue looked about. One group had sticks and were beating up an ugly thing. An attack! He almost went to help but saw it was just one of the fuzzy things moving it about. It wasn't a real threat. He turned away from the fake battled, looking to others groups. He wandered through the room, making his way to the far end.

His eyes opened wider and wider, his entire body still as he saw it. It wasn't anywhere near as big as the one that haunted his dreams, the great blue creature that flew so high, but the stuffed drake being ridden by another hatchling was clearly the same. Just smaller... and... he trembled. "MINE!"

The other dragon didn't even see Rahmor coming as he was tackled. He screeched as he landed in a heap on the ground, then Rahmor grabbed and spun him around to send him sliding across the floor to stare up dizzily.

Rahmor spun back around and with another leap was on top of the large stuffed drake, clutching to its back and growling fiercely at anyone who came near. Even some of the hatchlings who had beaten him previously gave him room. He snarled, knowing nothing but this was his, and his PLACE was on its back!

"Well, what do we have here? Don't want to share?" said one of the furry slaves as she looked down on Rahmor and his prize.

Rahmor bared his fangs and slashed at the air with one hand, the other tightly grabbing the stuffed drake. "Rrrrrrr! Miiiiiiine!" he said in a fierce growl, only ruined by the high pitched voice.

The experienced nurse giggled at the little thing, "Fine fine, keep it for now. It's a popular you, others will want to use it too. You will have to give it up sometime."

Rahmor snarled again, vaguely understanding the words, but getting the tone. "Grrrrrr! No!"

He knew his place now. He was never leaving. He sat proudly on his drake, bouncing on it happily. Others did try and take it from him. They all regretted it.

...

Rahmor strolled down through the marketplaces, passing by many of the higher end shops as he moved to the lesser traveled areas. "Let's take a shortcut" he said to Nella, pulling her along by her leash.

"Yes Master!" said Nella happily, clearly enjoying the shopping trips. She carefully carried a small bouquet of flowers Rahmor had bought with the intention of giving to his dragoness girlfriend Zoriah.

Rahmor cut down a back alley, making his way from one end of the market to the other. He took yet another path, the shortcut turning into a longer stroll as he wandered lazily about. It was good to stretch ones feet he thought, he didn't do as much in the city as he would like. He had so much to do from his work as a drake division commander to dealing with his harem and newest slaves. The harem needed much attention, and his new slaves needed quite a lot of training. Both were coming along nicely and he smiled happily.

He walked out of the alley and into an out of the way location, the egg-laying and hatchling raising areas. Not many dragons came here unless they were pregnant, and males were rarely in evidence. Funny to be here again, after so long. He started to turn back, but stopped instead moving deeper into the busy area. He wandered past the many large square buildings until he came to one in particular, the shape familiar even in those long ago memories. He pushed into the building, making his way inside.

"Can I help you?" asked a dragoness, looking at him curiously.

He regarded her, seeing the young, and rather attractive female and then shook his head, "Just, taking a shortcut. Recognized this one, thought I'd take a look around."

She smiles, "Don't get many tourists. Most dragons don't like to think of their younger years."

Rahmor nodded, "It's not always pleasant to remember from before you were a dragon." He walked further in, making his way to the inner room where all the hatchlings played. Some messed with blocks, others tugged over small hatchling sized clothes. Items from nearly every craft were scattered about, letting the hatchlings get familiar with them all, finding which they were drawn to.

He looked over the attendants, wandering closer. They were a mix of old and young, most younger to provide milk, but a number of older, more experienced dragonesses and slaves. He walked over to one in particular, an older brown and black mare who looked up at him in surprise, slowly giving him a respectful bow.

Rahmor nodded down to her, then eyed his slave, tugging her closer by her leash. He snorted as he looked at the flowers she was carrying, "On second thought, those are not at all pretty enough for Zoriah. She deserves much better than such a scrawny bunch." He snatched them from Nella and shook his head, "Still, a pity to waste them." He held them out to the mare, remembering the words from so long ago as he echoed them, "Keep them in the light. They should have a chance to bloom."

The mare reached out with a smile, "Oh, thank you kind Sir. I'll take good care of them, Master...?" she asked, but she already knew who he was.

"Rahmor. Master Rahmor," he said, giving the mare a fond smile, then coughing awkwardly in embarrassment. He looked about to say something else as he met the mare's gaze, but closed his mouth to turn away, only to stop again. "You made a good decision, so long ago. It has benefited the Empire greatly. I've served well, slaying countless insects and saving many lives" Again he moved to say something, but instead gave another tug on the leash, "Come slave! We can't waste all day here. I have slaves to train." He pulled the confused Nella along behind him, moving quickly to head back to the entranceway.

The mare watched the proud dragon boast of his value and smiled back, pulling the flowers up to sniff, and whispered in a voice so low she was almost just mouthing the words, "You're welcome." She was happy to have saved a life, to make a difference, however small in the fate of the world. Pity he was still a bit of an ass, she thought with a rueful smile.

Rahmor made his way back outside. He looked up into the sky, watching the drakes glide overhead, reaching up for one, and smiling.