Dragon Harem Quest - Or: Saying You Were Gay Wasn't The Conversation-Ender You Hoped For

"I wish for wine!" you blurt out. "The good stuff, enough for a dragon!"

The ifrit's brow furrows, golden eyes flicking all around at what tiny slices of the devastation he can glimpse. "Really?"

"You haven't met my mother," you reply, eyes wide.

The ifrit shoots you a deeply concerned look, then gives a helpless shrug. He raises one steaming hand and snaps his fingers once more, vanishing from your grip in a puff of gold dust. You remain still, knee on the sodden stone where his chest once was, anxiously twiddling your talons in his once-throatal-region as you wait for your wish to be granted.

"Eldingar!" Mother calls again, making you jerk to your feet like a startled goat. "I do hope you're not avoiding me!"

"N-no mother!" you call back, one hand cupped against your snout. "Just putting a few finishing touches on things!"

"There's no need to rush spring-cleaning at the last minute," she replies, her voice slowly travelling around the spire as she searches for the entrance, talons tap-tapping against the thick rock walls. "Frankly I'm amazed to find you up at this hour, I expected to have to wake you."

"(yes thank you for that, mother)" you hiss to yourself, casting another anxious look around the shambles your entire life has become and beginning to kick yourself for wishing for something as stupid as wine.

"What was that, my darling?" came her voice once more, closer and closer like some predator in the night.

"Nothing!" you answer quickly, gesticulating insanely at everything within reach because at least that makes you feel slightly better. "It's the uh- the south-facing slope! High up, work your way down!"

"I did tell you to knock a proper entrance through one of these walls," Mother lectures you as she clambers around the outside of your tower like a gargantuan, scaly bat. "How are you going to entice a tasty adventuring party into your parlour when you don't even have a front door? Do you expect them to spelunk their way in?"

"I suppose I hadn't considered that, Mother," you answer, for once not voicing your entirely reasonable misgivings with the concept of stealing treasure from adventurers you've eaten when it's a lot quicker and easier to just buy them with all your free merchant-money without any of the requisite electrical burns or tooth-marks because that might extend your lifespan one more precious second for the ifrit to return.

You can actually hear Mother's eyes narrow suspiciously as she pauses briefly, a wingspan or two from the entrance. "I hope you aren't just saying everything you think I want to hear hoping I'll forget about our correspondence," she says. "Flattery will get you nowhere, young man."

"D-do you want me to argue with you!?" you exclaim, clutching at either side of your skull.

"No, but that never seems to stop you," she replies with a sniff. You want to throttle something but, sadly, the ifrit has not returned. Instead all you can do is stand awkwardly still like prey, frozen in a predator's sights and hoping against hope it'll simply get bored and leave. But while your mother is easy to bore she will never leave until it damn well suits her and as the sound of her tapping talons draws closer and closer to the mouth of your cave you attempt to make some sort of peace with your life but instead all you can do is picture all the various ways she might react up to and including eating you or throwing herself off the cliff but soon you won't need imagination at all because you can see her wrap her foreclaws around the edge as she leans over to peek inside-

Fwumpf. All around you dozens upon dozens upon dozens of iron-banded wooden barrels materialise out of thin air in puffs of glittering golden dust. So crowded for space and stacked so high that you realise, just as Mother sticks her neck down the hole to cast a critical eye, it almost completely blocks your cave from view. She glares suspiciously at the vineyard markings, and you spare an anxious glance in kind to determine that yes, they are the good stuff. Red wine from a vineyard on the slopes of a volcano, somewhere south you think. You whip your head right back around to meet Mother's gaze and flash her a wide, toothy, not-at-all-terrified grin of innocence and pleasure at her company.

"... bring up a barrel," she says. "We'll discuss this outside."

And with that she's gone and you can breathe again, if only for a moment. Part of you wants to thank the ifrit for saving you. Part of you's going to stay angry because it's his fucking fault in the first place. A third part of you just appreciates he stacked the barrels in such a way that Mother couldn't be bothered climbing in and elbowing it all out of the way. If this is happening outside then there's still a chance, however slight. Maybe you can survive this after all.

... okay so you're still aching inside about the gold and you're probably going to cry deeply about that tonight but who would you be without the ability to repress emotions around Mother? You turn, finding a pair of golden goblets still rattling into position, the dust of the djinn's teleportation fading from view. Still not enough to get off the hook, you think to yourself vengefully as you scoop them up in one hand and get the barrel they were resting on under your other arm.

It's a wonderful stormy morning out, no surprise then that Mother was willing to have this discussion outside. The early morning light is the colour of steel, barely forcing its way through the overcast sky. The waters far below the cliff's edge are dull as dishwater, so opaque that it's hard to believe they could even support life. A chill wind sweeps across the high perch, the grass bending before it, but mere wind means nothing to a dragon. You glide down to earth and set down gently, shaking off your wings and folding them around your shoulders like a cloak as you approach Mother. She's shifted down to bipedal form, for ease of drinking if nothing else, and still she towers a full head and shoulders above you - no surprise given she's got about three centuries on you too. She's a slightly paler royal blue compared to you, her horns immaculately-cared-for and shaped into many-pointed crystal spires fit to be featured in a museum.

And then you notice she's not alone and stop dead.

The dragon standing beside her looks uncomfortable and completely out of place for a multitude of reasons. His scales are such a bright flame-orange that he pops absurdly to the eye when compared to Mother beside him and the overcast grey all around, his chest and belly creamy-white. He's not from around here, that much is obvious. He's more sinuous, more serpentine, overall longer from snout to tailtip compared to you and without any wings you can see. You guess that if he shifted up to full size he could coil around your entire spire and bite his own tail, although you see no reason why he would, that's just silly. It's difficult to see in this light, but his scales even seem to have an iridescent sheen to them. Also he has an impressive mane of golden hair flowing from behind his coral antlers and down his long neck and matching moustache which you think looks absolutely silly on a dragon even though you're also intensely jealous. He glances at you askance with one emerald-green eye but otherwise looks to Mother for what he's supposed to be doing.

Mother shoots you a pointed look and you jolt back to life again, setting the barrel down in the grass and prying the lid free with your claws. The dark red surface of the wine ripples slightly in the breeze as you carefully scoop both goblets full. You offer Mother one. She takes both.

"... so is this-?" you start. Mother raises one talon to shush you and drinks down the entire contents of the first goblet in a single, sustained pull. You simply arch your brow ridges and wait it out. At last she finishes with a soft sigh of satisfaction.

"One area where you have taste. Now," she gestures to the eastern dragon with the now-empty goblet. "This is Jun-ho, The Dancing Flame That Scorches The Sun. Jun-Ho this is my son Eldingar, The Azure Bolt That Spears The Sky."

You grunt in greeting. He grunts in reply.

"Match made in heaven the pair of you," Mother remarks drily, sipping at the second goblet. "Now, Jun-Ho here has come a very long way to reach our shores and he's rather in the market for, shall we say a local guide. I, fortuitously, happen to have a son in need of a mate with little better to do with his time. So who better to teach our exotic friend our ways?"

You grimace. "I'm not a tour guide, mother."

"Then what are you, besides a layabout?"

"A very important merchant prince and pillar of the community!" you protest.

"You make money squatting next to one of the richest trading ports on the northwest coast, you will forgive me if this doesn't speak to sparkling business acumen in the eyes of the family." She takes another hearty sip from her backup goblet, tongue flickering out to catch a few stray drops on her lips. "My grandmother will be celebrating her 1,000th birthday at the end of the year and I expect you to come. With your mate."

"N-nana Illvithri's birthday!?" you repeat, eyes wide as dinnerplates. "But the entire clan will be there!"

"Mhm," she says bluntly.

"... b-but that's only in six months!" you splutter.

"And you have had fifty years to find someone," Mother retorts. "If you won't give me grandchildren the least you could do is not embarrass me at the seasonal game-night with this... eternal stasis you've chosen for yourself."

You shoot her a Look of utter disbelief, flicking your eyes pointedly at the other dragon she brought explicitly for you to hook up with that she's now demeaning you right in front of. She ignores you. You glance at Jun-ho for some small measure of solidarity. He studiously avoids your gaze.


(( art by @Camellia ))

"... c-can't I just-"

"No, Eldingar." Mother drains the last of her second goblet, hooks them both around the talons of one hand and tosses them over her shoulder. "I have put up with you and your excuses for too many decades. It's high time you received a short, sharp push or you'll wind alone on that little treasure-pile until you're a wyrm yourself. Now - will my son be attending that party?"

[ ] Say you'll attend that party alone, like you have every right to. But you won't because nobody in this world is brave enough for that.
[ ] Meekly agree to court Jun-ho in preparation for the party, so as not to embarrass her. M-maybe it won't be so bad? It's not like he's all that comfortable with it either.
[ ] Lie quickly that you've found someone else. Non-dragon mates are allowed, you remember seeing a couple without too many hushed whispers.
[ ] Bring up the treasure map you bought at the market that pointed you to a djinn. You'll use your sixth months to find everything it points to and then you'll have the greatest hoard in all the clan and nobody will dare talk about shame, she'll see, they'll all see.
[ ] Say you won't attend at all if that's going to be her attitude. Literally just thinking about doing that terrifies you to your core.