Mudstone

Mudstone was born a mirror, and stayed to keep her father company. At the time, he was the only mirror in the lair, so she hunted with him. She had a couple of children, but they went to serve Flamecaller, and eventually her mother did, too. All her life, she did what her father did.

When Bosh was born, his parents celebrated their clutch, then left to serve Flamecaller, just like that. He didn't know what to do with himself, so Mudstone kept him company. She didn't feel like an old, experienced dragon. She felt like a hatchling with no place to go.

Chert approached Mudstone with the scroll, the one that would make her a skydancer like Bosh, when he was still fumbling around as a chubby child. "Your colors match," she said, "And you like each other."

They did. Mudstone consented. Now, she and Bosh perch together, planning their first nest. And Mudstone is realizing that the forges are laid out in a pattern, that the lair is far more organized than she ever noticed while hunting on the ground.

Mudstone is tired of feeling like the shadow of somebody else. Not only will she be a good mother, but she's going to learn a trade.

---

Mudstone discovered she has a head for numbers. She had always been good at estimating the size of prey, and that skill translated well to tallying stores. She spent hours flicking away at stones next to Filigree, learning the use of an abacus with the young Imperial. She accompanied Chert to the Dragon Markets, to see the prices given to everything. Pets, tools, and dragons.

Mudstone soon learned that many dragons had prices that seemed all out of proportion to their worth. Hundreds of dragons were valued less than a stack of fish. "Meat for the gods," she overhead a plague dragon joke. She watched Chert glean grown dragons from the hordes of the undervalued, bring them back to be trained in service to Flamecaller.

Fuel's fears for his fate made too much sense when Mudstone saw what value most dragons held. She didn't know what price he had borne, but Flamewing Forge priced their own dragons for more than twice what many of the hatchlings on the Markets were.
****

Mudstone never shopped for herself. She knew well what the cost to change from an ungened mirror to a fully patterned skydancer was. No, she had enough. A place to live, a role to play, a steadfast mate. So much had been spent on her hide already. A few flowers from the lair's hoard served to compliment it. Mudstone didn't feel the need for more.

Still, when the Nature dragons had a magic that let flowers bloom on a skydancer's back, well, Mudstone kept coming back to look again. And again. And again. Finally, Sinhalite nudged her. "Go get it! You know as well as anybody we have plenty of treasure for it."

But Mudstone just couldn't. The treasure wasn't really hers, to spend on whatever she wanted. It was the lair's, to spend on what they needed.

That didn't keep Sinhalite from telling Chert, though. Which meant a day later, Chert was the one telling Mudstone to go buy it.

"And give yourself a wage," the pearlcatcher admonished Mudstone. "You do a job. You should get paid for it, just the same as the smiths do!"

The wage was nice. A way to say that some money was really hers, to do as she pleased with it. But even better was the warmth on her back, the soft weight of nodding flowers, and the perfume over her shoulders when she turned.