I've decided that I'm going to post a chapter or two of this story. If I get a decent reception, I'll get a beta and continue. Please give me feedback!
The shell was dark-warm-safe, and you are perfectly satisfied with waiting inside of it. After all, you had all the time in the world to choose a Rider, hadn't you? Besides, none of the young-hopeful-pointed-ears who have touched you have been the One. You would know when They came. Until then, you are content to bide your time.
One year later
There is unease in the outside world. You are sure of it. All that come in contact with you now seem frantic and desperate. You hear faint, faint whispers of "rebellion" and "uprising" and "Forsworn". The last word in particular sent a dull pang of fear through your heart. Who were these Forsworn, and why was everyone so worried about them? And more importantly: should you be worried? You are safe inside your egg, yes. But the others of your race are not, and somewhere out there was the One. But your dire thoughts soon pass; after all, you are only a single year old.
Two years later
You feel death. And pain. And madness.
You hear the mental screams of both dragon and Rider, torn from their partners in the most brutal of ways. You hear the clashing of steel near to where your egg lies.
And you feel a twisted-hurting-mad-mind.
And you feel a great shock go through the minds of all those close to you and you feel a great presence depart.
Then there was more and more extinguishing-of-minds, and finally, you are aware that you are taken up by a twisted-mind-one.
And a great fear spreads over you.
Four years later
You finally realize that the twisted-hurting-mad-mind was a man, and the humans called him 'King'.
And you know that you are doomed.
Five years later
There are other eggs with you.
A male.
He was rather taciturn and reserved, but he was good company once he warmed up to you. He had been very close to finding the One, but had been devastated when he had been killed by a twisted-mind.
Listening to his hopeless talk the first few months had made you decide that you would never do such a thing.
And there was also a female.
She was not afraid to let you know what she thought about you.
She had berated the other male for being a coward, and for, "Not behaving as dragons ought."
You decide that you like her. Like her a lot.
Eleven years later
The king had paraded many prospective Riders before you.
Neither you nor your compatriots had found any to your liking.
There was the ruthless general.
A young sorceress.
Even a mute slave boy.
But though you are impulsive, you feel not the slightest connection with any of them.
Twenty-three years later
You are beginning to become anxious. What if your Rider would never come? What if you had to wait for eternity?
Forty years later
The land was becoming more and more peaceful.
There were no longer the screams of Riders and dragons separated.
Or, at least, not as often.
Sixty-eight years later
The land was at rest.
Except for one small rebel faction.
And small things cause great harm.
Unbeknownst to the eggs, a plan is formed.
Eighty years later
There was a new mind in the treasury.
A furtive, sneaking mind.
And the mind is coming your direction.
And the owner of the mind steals the female egg away.
You shriek mentally for rescue.
None would ever come.
Ninety-two years later
"Hatch, curse you!" screams the twisted-hurting-mad-mind, "Hatch!"
But you don't, you refuse, for the One is not here
One hundred years later
You are exceedingly weary, and considering hatching for whoever comes in next. For you have waited a hundred years, and none have come that you would form a life-bond with.
New powers have awakened in the land, and the king's rage permeates every bit of the castle.
And then you feel a faint presence.
Could this be it?
Surely not.
For when you have pictured your Rider, you have imagined a mighty warrior, maybe an elf, carrying a blazing sword and slaying the King.
Yet this is a boy, a human boy.
But he's hurting.
He's in despair.
He feels like a traitor.
He's close to death.
He's abandoned.
But most of all, he's lonely, very lonely. All he wants is death to take him, and take him swiftly, for he knows beyond the shadow of a doubt that he will give in soon.
You don't like him thinking these thoughts.
It hurts you.
Then you know it.
He is the One.
You begin to hammer at the diamond-hard walls of your shell, no, prison.
The former refuge was keeping you away from your life-bond!
You give a feral snarl, then claw viciously at the sides of the prison.
A crack.
You feel the boy give a start. Fear emanates from him.
You don't care. Battering relentlessly at the shell, you feel it give.
Sticking your slime-covered head out of the fragments, you make contact with a pair of shocked, horrified blue eyes.
He is the One.
Well, there you go. A Thorn point of view. Review if you liked it. Flame if you feel sorry for a pyromaniac, or if you want to amuse me endlessly. Again, check out my profile and vote on my poll. It's going to be up for a couple more weeks, but I need as many votes as I can so I can arrange everything. Also, please tell me which of my one-shots have the most promise so I'll know which ones to continue. Thanks!