Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Clay had known he was different from a very young age. Well, that’s not entirely fair. He’d known he was different in the sense of “it’s your destiny to save the whole world from this pointless war” from his second day of life, but it was a few weeks before any other differences became a point of contention. The moment was still crystallized in his mind, nearly a decade later.

He was in the middle of lunch, trying to snatch a rabbit from between Tsunami’s talons, when Kestrel stormed in. As far as he could tell, Kestrel pretty much stormed everywhere she went, which was reason enough to avoid her even when she wasn’t shouting for the other two guardians to “Get down here right now and explain yourselves!” and waving around a scroll.

Dune looked up from his meal and stared back at her. “Yes?” he asked, and she returned his frosty look. Webs splashed out of the river a moment later, swallowing the salmon he’d caught.

“Look at this scroll--and try not to drip on it, Webs.” She unrolled the document and held it out in front of her, forcing them to crowd in around her sides to read. “See there?” The outline of her claw tip showing through the parchment as she pointed to one line in particular.

“It’s a description of the dragonets from the egg candler, yeah. Is this some kind of prank?” Webs asked, making no effort not to drip on it.

“Then why does it say ‘sex--four female, one male’?” Kestrel poked the same spot on the paper for emphasis, and Clay blinked. There were definitely two boys in the group, unless Starflight was playing an elaborate prank on them. He looked over to check--nope, Starflight didn’t seem any more amused than they did.

“Oh, that. Well, you know, the candlers do make mistakes.” Webs scratched the back of his neck, looking as though he really wished Kestrel would just throw him in the river.

“Oh no, I checked . I went to Petrel and she said she was absolutely sure, and I’m pretty sure that you agreed with her findings when you checked AFTER they were hatched.” She prodded Webs in the chest; he swallowed hard, but did not respond.

Dune just looked confused. “This is all gripping stuff, Kestrel, but what exactly is the point?”

“At some point in the last month, while I was off risking my neck to make sure we’d be able to raise these dragonets at all , you convinced one of them that she was a boy!” Kestrel threw up her arms in disgust. “What is Morrowseer going to think, huh? Three of our hatchlings are totally defective!” The dragonets shrank back, especially Sunny.

“I don’t feel defective…” Starflight murmured, and Kestrel leaned down to stare him in the eye, smoke swirling from her nostrils.

“You’re… well, you’re normal for a NightWing.” Wait, but that meant that she thought something was wrong with Clay . I don’t feel defective either! I feel totally normal! he thought as she turned to him, but he couldn’t form the words. “It’s the MudWing that’s the problem.” Claws shining wickedly, she reached out towards him. He cringed away, unsure of himself. All she did with them, though, was trace over the outline of his skull, and down the muscles of his neck, making him shudder. “You’re no male. Far too broad and muscular. And, of course, your physical exam was plenty revealing.”

Kestrel didn’t exactly look broad and muscular herself. Who was she to tell him what he was or was not? “I am a boy! I know it!”

“Oh, excuse me, I didn’t realize you knew it.” She reared back, feigning contrition. “Here’s what I know: There’s never been a boy without a--”

“That’s enough!” Dune roared, and for just a moment there was fear in Kestrel’s eyes. The whole cave was silent for a moment, until all the echoes had faded.

She whirled to face him. “Really, Dune? You’re just going to support her delusions?” The whole sentence had been a shout, but that one ‘her’ hit Clay louder than anything else. It seemed to echo around in his mind until it had slammed into every little bit of him.

“He’s allowed to be whatever he wants to be! Who’s even going to check?” Dune backed off a bit, glancing at Webs. The SeaWing looked no more confident than the dragonets.

“Who do you think is going to check, Dune? Only the most important dragon in this whole operation! Morrowseer isn’t going to take her, and the war will never end!” She stalked forward, until she was only inches from the SandWing.

“Doesn’t say anything in the prophecy about what gender the MudWing is to be,” Dune replied, not backing down. “And another thing; Webs and I didn’t tell Clay what to think. He decided on his own.”

Kestrel rolled her eyes. “ Please. When have you ever heard of a dragon choosing the wrong gender?”

“Uhm...I have,” Webs said, still cowed by his coworker. “My sister was… well, she chose to… agh, how do I put this?”

“Deluded.”

“Stop saying that! I love my sister.” Webs scurried over to stand next to Dune, earning a grin from the veteran SandWing. “We’re never going to convince him that he’s not a boy, anyway, so why try? Never worked on my sister.”

“What, are we supposed to lie to Morrowseer for the sake of this dragonet? He’s a NightWing!”

“It’s not a lie. My sister is my sister, not my brother. He’ll understand.” Webs replied, and Dune nodded.

“And I’m sure Morrowseer’s going to find out what Clay wants to be called either way. We’ve already got two weird little dragonets, we should pick our battles.”

“She should pick hers. ” Kestrel grumbled, just loud enough for Clay to hear. Still, her anger had been quelled by the judgemental eyes of her comrades, and five angry stares from the dragonets. “Fine! You two can explain when he asks.” She whipped around, tail passing only inches over the dragonets’ heads, and stormed back out.

“Kestrel never did warm up to me. She always hit me harder than anyone else, tried to shape me into her ideal woman despite what I wanted, until I finally managed to escape. The other dragonets know, of course, though I don’t think they saw me any differently from other boys. I just count myself lucky Morrowseer never found out. ” Clay finished, morosely. Moon and Peril gaped at him, bewildered by what they’d just heard.

“Stars, I had no idea my mother was so… belligerent.” Clay raised an eyebrow. “Okay, I had a pretty good idea. Still, I never expected her to treat you like that.”

“Honestly, I think she would’ve even if I let her call me a girl. She wanted a warrior and got a bigwings.” Clay sighed. “Anyway, Moonwatcher, that’s why your prophecy must be a mistake. I could… probably produce eggs, but not with another female. Wait, do we teach that at this school?”

“No, but I understand the concept.” Moon said.

Peril rubbed her snout, eyes narrowed. “So, wait… you’ve got a--”

“One that goes in , yes.” He cut her off, giving a pointed glance at Moon. She stood, looking a bit nervous.

“I think I might just… wait outside, if you want to talk about that ,” She could definitely hear what the two of them were thinking, and wanted no part of it. Peril could understand that; she didn’t really want to talk about Clay’s junk with a dragonet in the room either. Or her own junk, for that matter.

“What do you mean by ‘goes in’, though? Cause that could mean it points inward, or that you put it--” There was an expression of dawning comprehension on her face, and beneath that some… anxiety?

“Peril, I have a vagina.” He looked very, very tired in that moment.

“Oh okay that’s actually kind of a convenient coincidence because like, well, I don’t know about the correct terminology but I’ve been told I’m not supposed to… well, Scarlet never said anything about it but nobody else ever bothered to check and now I’m not sure if you’ll be disappointed--” she rambled, her tone growing increasingly frantic until Clay finally cut her off with a soft pat on the shoulder.

“Peril, you can tell me if this makes things difficult between us. I won’t be upset.”

She took a deep breath, looking more scared than Clay had ever seen her before, which was not incredibly scared, if he was being honest. “Oh no it’s not that, it’s just that I--well, I guess I’m also not normal. I mean, obviously I’m not normal , duh, but like. In that… way that you are also. What I’m trying to say is that I… don’t have one that goes in. I have one that goes out.”

There was a pause then, punctuated only by the sound of Moonwatcher slamming her head into the door. Clay looked over to it, wrinkling his brow. “Okay, leaving for real now!” she said from outside, and he waited until her footsteps had receded into the distance to respond.

“Stars, I had no idea.” He was smiling so widely that Peril was afraid he’d get a cramp.

“I knew there were other dragons like me, but I never thought I’d meet one--and my own girlfriend nonetheless!”

“You’re not upset? Because I’m kind of upset, a little bit,” she replied.

He cocked his head, unable to suppress his grin. “What for?”

“This is just another thing separating me from everyone else, isn’t it? I mean, look at how Kestrel treated you.” She ducked down a little lower, feeling very small indeed.

Clay sighed. “I don’t--nobody else has ever done that since then. Which is partly because I don’t tell people unless they come to me with a prophecy about my future love-children.”

“I should do the same, then?”

“I’d suggest at least being cautious. At least the first big steps are out of the way.”

“What’re those?”

“Well, you don’t exactly have to tell your parents about it--” She frowned, and he quickly corrected, “--and you just told me! So that’s the three people in the world who you should tell dealt with! If anyone else wants to know, it’s totally up to you.”

She glanced up at him, curious. “Who else have you told, anyway?”

“Well, Webs and the other prophecy dragonets know, obviously. They were there. And, hmm, I think my sibs know something’s up, but they don’t really get it . Other than that, nobody.”

“Huh…” She blinked a few times, staring hard at nothing in particular.

“Peril?”

“Sorry, this is way too much. I’ve been keeping a secret I didn’t even know I had? I could’ve been attacked over it? But also like, my--well, you’ve been keeping the same secret, even from me? And mostly I’m mad that you didn’t tell me but another part of me is relieved that you understand and a third part is just so happy that you called me your girlfriend. What even ARE we anyway?”

“I’m not sure, but I totally understand what you’re going through. It took me weeks to put myself back together after I figured it out, and I had four friends and Webs to help.” He brushed his wing against hers, then pulled back as he heard a small sizzling sound. The sound continued after he drew away, though, and he realized that Peril was crying, her tears boiling away as soon as they formed. “I’ll help you through this, okay?”

“Okay.” she mumbled.

“If you want, we could tell the other dragonets. I’m sure they’d be really supportive too, and they might be able to offer some perspective that I don’t have.”

She stepped away from him, pulling in her wings defensively. “No! They don’t have to know!”

“I--alright. It’s your choice.”

Digging her claws into the ground just a little too hard, she straightened up. “Yes it is. I-I need to go think about this. Alone.” Clay opened his mouth to respond, but she was already on her way out the door and he couldn’t find the words.

The wildlife outside Jade Mountain Academy were very used to avoiding dragons by now, so most of them were long gone by the time Peril slammed down on the forest floor, smoke practically pouring off of her. Her thoughts were a mess, flickering and swirling and fading away too fast to make any real sense of. She pressed her eyes shut, trying to make sense of it all. Without warning, her tail whipped out, smashing into a nearby birch and cracking it neatly in half. It fell away from her, a great burning gap missing from the trunk.

The stinging in her tail brought her back into focus, just a bit. Alright Peril, alright. You can handle this--one thing at a time. What first? She took a moment to breathe, allowing a topic to drift up naturally. Who are you, Peril? Good question, Peril. I’m Peril… and this is going nowhere, isn’t it? Fine then, what are you, Peril? Unbidden, a lifetime of experiences presented themselves to her. She had been a monster, or at least a weapon, but that wasn’t her . Queen Scarlet’s servant, Kestrel’s daughter (she tried not to consider Kestrel’s behavior towards Clay), Clay’s… well, a dragon with a crush on Clay; none of them actually answered her question.

Was Kestrel right? Has someone just tricked me into thinking I’m a girl? Was I supposed to be a boy? Clay said that he knew from the start he was different, but what if someone had told me I was actually a boy like Kestrel did to him? Would I have argued? Am I ever going to ANSWER one of these questions? She could feel her train of thought drifting away again, and without thinking smashed another tree with her foreleg. This one shattered as it fell, spraying the underbrush with smoky splinters.

I certainly think I’m a girl, but I can’t be sure! Scarlet could’ve tricked me, or I could just be using the wrong words. I mean, I didn’t even know girls weren’t supposed to have dicks until fifteen minutes ago! Argh, I’m just one dragon! How could I ever be sure which I’m supposed to be when I can only try ONE? She charged forward with a shout, cutting a smoldering swath through the underbrush.

“Peril?” someone asked from behind her. Yelping in surprise, she jumped back, whacking her head on a tree and then falling in a heap. She saw stars for a moment. When her vision returned, she saw Turtle standing in front of her, looking concerned.

“Don’t scare me like that!” she shouted at the SeaWing. “What is it?”

“Sorry, I just heard the noise you were making and thought you might need help. Or, y’know, whoever you were fighting might need help.” He shrugged.

“I was just trying to cool off--uh, in a metaphorical sense. Just had a bad morning, definitely nothing major at all.” She didn’t move to stand up, but her mind was abuzz again. I shouldn’t tell him, he won’t understand. And what if he tells the other dragonets?

“Okay, I’ll be on my way then. Since nothing major is happening. Definitely.” He started to leave, slow enough that Peril could tell he had no intention of actually going anywhere.

“Please stay,” she murmured. On the other hand, I’m getting nowhere on my own, and Clay is… well, he understands too much to understand everything. Does that make sense?

“Works for me.” He turned around and plopped down in the grass, bringing them back to eye level. He stared at her attentively for a little bit before speaking. “What’s the matter?”

“I… stars, it’s so much to explain. Hmmm… you know how you were an animus for like three years but didn’t know it?”

“Yeah? Don’t tell me that you’ve got talons of fire and talons of power.”

“No, nothing like that. I’ve been… well, apparently I haven’t been a normal girl for eight and a half years without realizing it.” Or a girl at all , she thought, feeling like a wet blanket had been thrown over her soul.

Turtle chuckled. “Wait, you were a normal girl once? That’s news to me!”

She blew out a cloud of smoke, aiming for his face but only clouding the space between them. “That’s not what I meant! I meant that I’m biologically not a girl. Like, I was born a boy.”

Frowning, he looked her over with a curious eye.“Really? I never would’ve guessed; you’re so strong and aggressive. Not masculine at all.”

For some reason, Peril was really happy to hear that. “That’s how I am, apparently!”

“Well, why’d you ever say otherwise? Nobody had to tell me I was a boy, I figured it out pretty quick.”  

“I guess Kestrel--my mother, not sure if I ever told you that story--probably knew I was male, but Scarlet never looked. She just asked me… and I guess I gave her the wrong answer.” It was all so murky now. How did Clay have such a strong recollection? I guess I had to choose when I was much younger than him.

“Huh. So, are you going to pick out a new name or something? Cause I’ve got a lot of red gemstone names memorized, so I can help with that. Oh, and I guess you’d want me to start calling you a boy?”

The sensation of terror that Turtle’s words sent through her was comparable to knowing you were about to be thrown off a cliff with two broken wings. What the heck? He’s saying the right thing, Peril! You’re not like Clay, you’re just ignorant! A low groan was the only response she could muster to Turtle, but he kept talking, a smug little smile on his face.

“It might be a difficult transition for Clay, though. Never pegged him as the ipsen type. And all the other dragonets might take a little while to get used to Pyrope the drake instead of Peril the dragoness. Other names are available of--”

“NO! No new names, no ipsening, no telling the other dragonets!” She stood up very suddenly, causing Turtle to flinch. “I don’t want to be known as a boy.” Wait, I don’t… so was it really my choice the whole time?

“I figured as much.”

“Why’d you have to go and do that, then? I’m supposed to be the mean one!” So then… well, at least I want to be a girl. Scarlet didn’t brainwash me into thinking that.

“Because I figured that there had to be some reason you didn’t tell Scarlet you were a boy, and the best way to find it would be to give you the choice again.”

“Oh, you’re so smart, I could just wrap my wings around you and give you a big hug,” she said, taking a step forward.  

Turtle yelped and moved back, glancing nervously at the grass sizzling under her feet. “No thanks!”

She grinned, but stopped advancing and let her posture relax. “I’m grateful that you did that, at least partly. I could’ve spent all day smashing over trees and not accomplished that much.” So wait, does Clay feel the same way when people call him a girl? Oh stars, Clay. I’m gonna have to… well, I’ve got to tell him something. “You’re still the worst, though.”

Turtle scratched his neck with one wing. “That’s what they tell me, yeah. Oh! I should probably tell Moon that you’re not going to destroy the entire world, and she can cancel that mass evacuation to Pantala.”

She rolled her eyes. “Yeah, that’s a good idea. Run away to the most flammable place in the world.”

“Eh, better than nothing. So, feeling better?”

“Not even remotely close. Want to go yell at your teacher with me?” With a soft rustle, she unfurled her wings and prepared to take off.

“ My teacher? You’re in the same classes as me!”

“Yeah, but Clay’s my… okay, fair enough.” Turtle snickered at her reluctance, and she threw herself into the air.

Chapter Text

Peril managed to make it back to Jade Mountain first, but Turtle rushed in through the entrance ahead of her. “Hey Clay! Your girlfriend’s back!” he shouted down the hall, and Peril felt her scales grow a little hotter as dragonets poked their heads out to see what was up. There was no sign of Clay, however.

“Just for that, you’re un-invited from yelling at Clay.” Am I really going to yell at him? I certainly feel like it… but he always meant well. Maybe I’ll just air my grievances in a calm and collected manner, and hope he can see my side. She took a deep breath and a few steps down the hallway before pausing. “That said, any idea where he might be?”

“No, but I think Moon might know. Said she was going to a meeting of all the teachers.” Turtle shrugged.

Perfect! I can yell at Moon all day without upsetting Clay. Well, directly upsetting him. He’d probably be even madder if I went off on Moon than if I did on him. Ugh. “And where’s Moon now?”

He blinked back at her. “In the teachers’ cave, getting ready for the meeting. Probably.”

So he did know where Clay was going to be. Eh, I’ve already threatened to kill him painfully once today. Another threat is just gonna seem ineffectual. Without another word, Peril bolted down the hallway, towards the teachers’ cave. Luckily most every dragon was in their classes, and any who weren’t were quick to take cover behind the nearest non flammable object.

A moment later, she burst through the door of the teachers’ cave. Inside, Moon was setting up a sort of easel with some paper-board presentation materials. The top one read ‘I’m Really Sorry, But I Do Know Your Future Lovers: A Presentation by Moonwatcher’. The NightWing yelped and dropped the rest of the slides before looking over to her.

“Oh, Peril! You’re back!” she said, trying to grab her materials without breaking eye contact.

Peril couldn’t have helped if she wanted to. “Do you know where Clay is?”

“He should be here soon for my, er, presentation. Did you really mean that earlier, about the--”

“Unless you’re really Clay in a very clever disguise, that’s none of your business.” Peril replied, trying very hard to focus on anything but her nethers. “Speaking of, what exactly were you thinking today?”

“Uh--”

“I mean, I love Clay more than anything else in the entire world, but did you have to bring up the topic of dragonets? We’ve barely been an item for three weeks! I wouldn’t even commit to calling him my boyfriend earlier, and you want us to think about BABY NAMES?” Peril shouted, leaving nothing out. Not like there was any point hiding her true feelings on the matter when talking to a mind-reader.

Moon stepped back, and Peril realized that she was smoking more than usual. “I-I’m sorry, I just thought it’d be interesting. Plus, y’know, now that I know it wasn’t one of Darkstalker’s lies what reason is there not to tell you?”

“Because my life just got a million times more complex! I have to figure out everything about myself right now or Clay’s gonna--Oh h-hi Clay!” she said, as the door creaked open and he peeked through.

“Peril! You’re back!”  he replied, rushing in happily before glancing at Moonwatcher. “Sorry, am I interrupting something?”

“No!” Peril yapped, before Moon could get a word in. “Can we, uh, speak in private?”

Clay nodded. “Absolutely. But we should give Moonwatcher some time to get her slides back in order.” He sidled over to Peril and bumped her with his wing, beckoning her back towards the door.

“Thank you, Clay,” Moon replied as they moved back into the hallway, then across and into another small side chamber, just big enough to fit the both of them with no accidental burns. Oddly, the room didn’t even have smoothed floors or walls, just rough-cut stone.

Making sure the door was firmly shut, Clay finally turned back to Peril and explained: “The builders were a little overzealous with the broom closet.”

“Didn’t you carve out most of the tunnels yourself?

“I thought we’d need to sweep more!” he said, holding up his paws in a defensive posture. She laughed, and after a second he laughed too. “I guess it is pretty funny, yeah. So… what did you want to talk about?”

“There’s still so much …” she trailed off, trying to think of what to say first. Well, let’s start with a simple yes or no question. “Were you serious about the ‘girlfriend’ thing? Cause I’m totally cool with that but I wouldn’t want to pressure you.”

“Yeah? I mean, everyone else already calls us that, and I do love you. Why shouldn’t I call you my girlfriend? Unless this is your way of proposing, I guess.” He smiled, and twined his tail around hers.

“No, no, I’m fine with ‘boyfriend’.” Well, more than fine. Way more. She leaned in closer to him, taking in the cool firmness of his scales for as long as she felt able to before pulling away. The touch of his snout against hers was surprising, but not unwelcome.

“ I wish I’d told you earlier ,” he murmured, just barely loud enough for her to hear. “ You deserved to know .”

Did I? I mean, I hadn’t even thought about… that , with him. “I understand how hard it was to tell me at all, now.”

“Oh?” he asked, pulling back slightly to look her in the eyes. “Who’d you tell? Just so I can keep up to date on who knows.”

“I’m still not sure on what exactly we’re all knowing. I mean, I can’t just be a girl now that I know this, even if I want to be.”

“Uh. Sure you can? Why do you think all the other girls in the world say they’re girls?”

“Because they’re, y’know, biologically…” He raised an eye-ridge and she trailed off. Of course, he’s biologically like them too, so that couldn’t be it. “Or not. I don’t know, it feels fake.”

“Trust me, Peril, you’re real. What you have between your legs won’t change that.”

“I… I don’t believe that, but if I don’t believe that, how can I believe you ?” With a gasp, Clay pulled away. STARS ABOVE, Peril, could you have stuck your foot any further in your mouth ? “No, no! That’s not what I meant! I do believe that you’re Clay--how couldn’t I, with you in front of me. But… the same logic doesn’t work on me.”

“Why not?” he asked, letting his muscles relax.

“I don’t know, my mind keeps going in circles. I’m a year older than you but you easily outweigh me by half a ton and have a foot up on me at the shoulder.” He frowned again. “And not just you! Carnelian had massive horns, and mine are tiny!”

“If we’re talking about defensive abilities, I wouldn’t say any dragon could match you. And appearances aren’t everything. I mean, Sunny’s tiny , but she’s still a girl.”

“It feels like I’d be lying to everyone, though.” But what other option is there? Being a boy is right out.

Clay set his wing over hers, letting his outermost wingtip brush against the length of her back. She shivered. “I felt the same way, when Kestrel was getting to me. I know it’s not what you want to hear, but I honestly don’t have any better advice than to just stick to what feels best.”

“Even if it means lying about who I am?”

“You weren’t lying before, and you aren’t now. Being a girl isn’t about what’s down there--” he prodded her thigh, “--It’s about what’s up here.” She was confused for a moment before he leaned in and… licked her head from snout to brow. There was a slight hiss of steam, and he blushed.

Her cheeks got a little redder too.“Uh, what was that?”

“It’s a MudWing thing, apparently. To, uh, mark your mate. Thought it’d be cute.” He shifted his tongue in his mouth a little. “Has anyone ever told you that you taste like a grill mark?”

“No… but that was pretty cute.” She licked him back, just getting the side of his snout. His scales tasted earthy, but not entirely unpleasant. “So that’s the last step before dragonets, right?” she joked.

“Ugh, don’t remind me,” Clay groaned. “Moon’s still got to apologize for that whole debacle. But hey, at least something good came of it.”

“I wouldn’t qualify the past three hours as *good* for me.”

“You got a boyfriend out of it. Hopefully a tasty one.” He waggled his eye-ridges at her, and she blushed a little harder. “Come on, let’s watch Moon’s lovely apology presentation. I think there’s gonna be snacks!”

And all of the prophecy dragonets--well, except Glory. Are they gonna figure me out? I guess it depends on what Moon says. Suddenly, Peril’s face was uneasy again as they crossed the hall. If she says too much, I’m going to INCINERATE… her slides. That’ll show her.

About fifteen minutes later, the other four teachers at Jade Mountain had gathered in the cave. Clay had already picked the platter of fruit in the middle of the room clean, and there was nothing left to do but stand uneasily and wait for Moon to start. Starflight looked particularly upset, and Peril couldn’t help but notice that Fatespeaker was nowhere to be found.

As she took the stand, Moon coughed to get their attention. The room fell silent-er, and she blushed. “H-hello, everyone. I just threw this--well, I put together this presentation to apologize for making some of you” --and here there was a pointed glance at Starflight and the two of them-- “uncomfortable. It was never my intention to hurt any of you, I was just… well, I was excited that the vision Darkstalker showed me a few months ago, when I first came here, was actually possible. A-as opposed to being some kind of trick.” Tsunami rolled her eyes, but said nothing.

“I know that not all of you have heard the prophecy, but I wanted to clear the air and recount exactly what I saw. No… assumptions this time.” Aw, but I liked the assumptions. I guess I don’t need them now that we’re going steady. Peril had to hold in a little yelp as the thought crossed her mind.

“Get on with it.” Starflight said, in a raspy voice. Had he been crying?

Moon took a deep breath, and recited the vision exactly as she’d had it. Three dragonets, one Starflight, one Clay, and a few words between them. At least this time she had informative slides so everyone could get a better picture of the dragonets she’d seen. The one that was supposedly theirs did seem to have Clay’s eyes.  “... and, well, I sort of assumed that the dragonets were, y’know, yours .”

“Why’d you have to tell us about it, though?” demanded Starflight.

She cringed. “I thought you’d be as happy as I was to know that Darkstalker wasn’t lying. I guess--I guess I didn’t understand the kind of stress a vision like that can put on someone.”

He stepped forward, and Sunny held up her paw warningly. “Moon is right; the last few months have been trying on all of us and a bit of reassurance that we’re still on the right path couldn’t go amiss.” Starflight stared at her, then sighed and stepped back, mumbling an apology. “If it’s not too personal, could we discuss exactly what it is you assumed? The healing process starts with finding the wound.”

Or tearing it further open , Peril thought, but said nothing. Best to keep people assuming that their quarrel had been over baby names, or something similarly inane.

“I told Starflight and Fatespeaker about it first, because I saw… well, I saw Starflight’s child. I just assumed they were together...”

“Well, we’re not anymore . So thanks for that.” There was a palpable silence then, which dragged on and on until Webs, of all dragons, spoke up:

“I’m sure she’ll come around. Learning that you’re going to have a kid is pretty shocking, but it wears off eventually,” he said, bumping against Starflight reassuringly. The NightWing pulled away, but didn’t disagree.

Moonwatcher looked close to tears now, but she sucked in a breath and kept going. “A-anyway, after that… disaster, I told Peril and Clay what I’d seen, and that I thought the orange and brown dragonet might be theirs. But--”

Clay let out a suspiciously loud cough as half the dragons in the room opened their mouths to correct Moon. Well, at least they’re not on to me . I hope .

“I’m a-aware of his situation now, yes, although--”

“And that’s all we need to say about that,” Clay said, and the others nodded. Peril tried to nod especially hard.

Moon gulped. “Well… that’s really all that happened while I was there. You’ve all already heard about Peril’s reaction.” Every eye was on her in a moment. “No, no, not like that! She’s fine with Clay, I sw--”

“Why don’t you let me speak for myself?” The room fell silent again. “I don’t have any problem with Clay’s body, and I never have. The fact that he’s… well, y’know, that way, had nothing to do with my outburst.” Starflight seemed to be struggling to figure out whether to continue being angsty or say something pedantic, while the others just looked relieved. Clay smiled at her, but tilted his head to indicate that she should continue. “And… I’m sorry if you were scared when I stormed out.”

“That’s a relief,” said Tsunami, only implying the ‘because if you did, I’d beat the crap out of you’.

Moon started to step away from the podium. “Well, if we’re all finished here I’ll just get back to--”

“Now hang on just a minute. I’ll decide when you’re finished here.” Tsunami continued. “I get that you’re very sorry, but you also hurt a lot of people today. Since you apparently can’t be trusted to keep your ‘visions’ to yourself, you can go without for a day.” Moon gave her a confused look as she began fiddling with her bracelet. “Put this on. You can take it off at sunset tomorrow and not one minute sooner.”

Moon’s gaze was laser-focused on the bracelet now, and Peril could just make out a small black stone set into the sterling links, shining like oil. “Tsunami--er, Ma’am, that’s--that’s skyfire. It’ll totally deafen me if I wear it.”

“Yep. You’ll be just like everyone else. Barely a punishment at all, when you think about it,” replied Tsunami, and when Moon continued to hesitate she reached out and took her by the wrist. Before Moon could pull away, the bracelet had clicked into place.

Her eyes went wide, and her breathing quickened. Peril could hear her whispering reassurances to herself. Is she really that dependent on her mind-reading? Maybe Tsunami’s got a point. After a moment, she blinked and looked up. “A-alright. Can I please go now?” she asked, even more unsure than before.

“You’re dismissed, yes.” Moon was off like a shot. “But don’t forget to give me that bracelet back! It was a gift!” Tsunami shouted after her, then sighed and turned back to them. “That went… well.”

Sunny raised a claw. “I think your punishment was a bit harsh, Tsunami. We could all tell she made an honest mistake.”

The room was the same chilly summer temperature as ever, but Peril felt it get a little cooler as Tsunami turned around. “I’m really tired of prophecies, Sunny. Plus, I think Starflight and Clay deserved a little justice. Is that so wrong?”

“I… suppose not.”

“Mhm.” They stared at each other until Tsunami broke away. “Starflight, is there anything we can do to help? I… well, it won’t do to have our librarian moping around all day.” Sunny elbowed her, and she rolled her eyes.

“Not that I can think of… hopefully Fatespeaker and I can work this out and get back into our comfort zone. Assuming she ever talks to me again.”

“I’m still not getting it. Why would Fatespeaker be mad that you’re gonna have a dragonet?” Peril asked.

“Who knows?” he said, flapping his wings angrily. Some of Moon’s slides fell off of the stand with the sudden gust of wind. Well, Moon probably does, but Tsunami just ran her off. And now they’re all at each other’s throats over this prophecy, so he’s probably not gonna find time to ask her. At least nobody asked about my part in this, Peril thought, tempting fate. “I mean, why were you so mad anyway? You aren’t going to have a dragonet with Clay, it’s anatomically impossible.”

He trailed off as Clay gave him a warning look. “There’s…” he glanced at Peril, who was very slightly completely panicking. “...always the possibility of adoption.”

“Or making do with a substitute.” Starflight said, then quickly snapped his mouth shut. Peril could’ve heard a pin drop in the room at that moment. “I-I’m sorry, I didn’t realize how that would--”

She straightened up, grateful that Starflight, at least, was not match for her in size. “Putting aside that I’d burn their nethers, I’d NEVER do that.”

“Really, I didn’t--I was just curious, I swear.”

“You really want to know so bad? I was mad because I can get a dragonet out of Clay!” Or rather into Clay.

There was a chorus of “What?”s from around the room, and Starflight blinked, the fear and slight nausea on his face vanishing. “You do know that…”

“Yes! I do know that Clay’s got a vagina. I don’t!” If the room had been quiet before, it was as still as the grave now. The only motion was Webs glancing nervously at the door. Okay, so. Not your best play, given the situation.

“That’s wonderful! I’m so glad you had the courage to tell us!” Sunny said, so cheerfully that any other dragon would’ve definitely had to fake it. She glanced over at Clay, whose face was stuck somewhere between surprise, elation, and nausea. “You did know beforehand, right?”

“Y-yeah.” he stuttered, blinking and shaking off the confusion. “Peril told me and Moon before, after I told her about my own situation. I didn’t expect her to just blurt it out to all of you, though…” he trailed off, staring at her.

That makes two of us, Clay. “Well, I wasn’t about to let Starflight slander my boyfriend.” she said, trying not to let any giddiness slip through her serious tone.

Starflight gulped, his aggressive posture slouching into cowardice. “Sorry to put you on the spot like that. I--stars, this is just a mess.”

“That seems accurate, yeah.” Tsunami said, and he groaned. “Just count yourself lucky I only allow myself one ironic punishment per day. Any more and the parents start complaining about ‘administrative overreach’ and other stuff that’s not real.”

Sunny laughed a little, but Peril could see reams of angry letters reflected in her thousand-yard gaze. “Yeah… hey, Starflight, didn’t you find a scroll about dragons like Clay? Maybe Peril would like to hear what we learned.”

“Oh, I left it in the cave when we escaped. Didn’t have time to get it from its hiding spot.” He shrugged. “From what I can remember, it was an old NightWing history, from the Night Kingdom. Probably one-of-a-kind these days; wish I’d remembered to get it for the library.” His gaze drifted off more than usual.

Peril coughed, letting out a smoke ring that smacked him right in the nose. “Anyway! Apparently, the NightWings had a lot of dragons like Clay; their working theory was that the gender we prefer to be known by isn’t always related to our, y’know…”

“Junk,” she said.

“I was going to say genitalia, but yeah, ‘junk’ . Their studies showed--and you really don’t wanna know how--that this ‘mental gender’ was immutable, apart from by the natural changes a dragon experiences as they grow older. Thus, it was pointless to argue with these dragons, so they instead accepted them--at least until moving to the island, when a dragon who’d likely never reproduce was considered ‘defective’.”

“That’s morbid, but expected for NightWings.”

“The author also said that SkyWings like that were tossed off cliffs,” he replied, a bit too smug. “Really, the whole thing was just awful, which is probably why nobody really knows about it these days, or if they do they stay hidden.”

“Cool,” she said, feeling very uncool. Then again, she had already been slated for a cliff-tossing at birth. What were they gonna do, throw her already-broken body off the cliff just to prove the point? “Is there anything else that I already know that you can tell me?”

“I think there was a technical term for dragons like you, too. Didn’t ever use it for Clay ‘cause we thought he was unique, but seeing as he isn’t--” Clay gave him an exaggeratedly hurt look “--well, not in that way, it’s probably more useful. They called you, er, transgender . With ‘trans’ being the Old NightWing prefix for ‘across’.”

She hummed thoughtfully. Well, at least there’s a name for the way I am. That means I’m not the first . Scarlet had been careful to emphasize that she wasn’t the only firescales in history, way back when, not that she blamed her. Humility was probably a good trait to cultivate in someone who could kill you with just their little claw. “Yeah, I like that. Maybe just ‘trans’ for short, though.”

“It is catchier,” agreed Clay.

“Well then, we’ll call you all that.” Tsunami said sleepily. “Is there any other deep, personal wisdom that you all would like to trust me with, or can I adjourn the meeting?” Peril gave her a look. “What? I’m not gonna congratulate you on your nethers. Unless you’re Riptide.” Webs jerked suddenly, and made a strangled sound somewhere between a laugh and a grunt. Sunny and Clay blushed.

“Well… a few supportive words couldn’t go amiss,” Sunny suggested, restraining a giggle.

Tsunami sighed. “Sure, write me another speech and I’ll deliver it for Peril. I don’t do big proclamations. But…” she looked at Peril, not meeting her eyes. “I’d already pledged to fight anyone who hurt you, when I realized Clay was serious about courting you. Part of the whole ‘sisterly love’ thing. If someone tries to throw you off a cliff or something because of who you are, I’ll help.”

“Help sweep up their ashes, maybe--but I appreciate the thought, really!” I mean, Tsunami promising to fight someone isn’t much different from Tsunami’s regular interactions with other dragons, but she is the Head of School. “Oh! Thanks for not complaining about the student-teacher relationship either.”

“You’re both adults, and you’re happy together, and I’m pretty sure that nothing I could do would stop you. Just don’t let her classmates take you two as an example, Clay, or we will be having words . Specifically, those words will be ‘you’re fired’.” There was a long silence, and she stood up and cleared her throat. “Anyway, if there really isn’t anything else, meeting adjourned.”

Starflight was the first to slink out, followed by Sunny. Webs gave Tsunami an exasperated look, but followed her as she headed out one the side doors, into the offices. That left Clay and Peril alone together again. “So, you want to grab some lunch?” he ventured, brushing her wing in a way that probably implied something she’d like.

“Absolutely,” she said, mimicking the gesture as gingerly as she could. Clay gave her a soft poke with his tongue, and they headed back down the corridor.

Chapter Text

The next week passed in something of a blur. Peril becoming--well, realizing she was--trans hadn’t changed much of her life. The most she’d gotten were a few weird looks from Moon, but getting together with Clay definitely had changed things. Where before it seemed like they had to struggle to share any time at all, now chances just seemed to spring up constantly to run an errand together, or share a meal, or hide in a closet and rub noses. Admittedly, helping Clay grade his students’ homework was difficult when she couldn’t touch any of the assignments and knew just as little as any of them about herbology. Still, her input mostly made up for the time they wasted making doe-eyes at each other. Mostly

“What do you think, Peril? Can woad be used as a convenient stomachache cure when you’re stuck out in the highlands?” Clay asked, dipping his claw in a bit of red ink and preparing to pass judgement on another student’s essay.

Peril shrugged, laying back lazily against the cave wall and trying to catch a sunbeam coming in through the skylight. She managed to resist the urge to bat at the motes of dust floating through the air. “I don’t even know what woad is .”

There were a few drawings pinned to the wall of the herbology cave, along with a couple cases of pressed plants, and Clay pointed out a cluster of tiny yellow flowers with his dry claw. “That’s woad. It is a good pain reducer, native to the highlands… and a good blue dye.”

“How’s that relevant?” she asked, craning her neck to see the drawing.

He grinned. “I hope anyone who takes Boto’s advice doesn’t have a hot date, because their smile will be extra colorful.”  Using his claw, he scratched out a few notes, advising Boto to think things through a little further, but complimenting his brevity. The paper went on the depressingly short stack in his inbox. Before he could take the next sheet, there was a knock at the door.

“I’ll get it.” Peril said, rolling over onto her belly and standing up. She plodded over to the door as Clay kept shuffling through the papers. Taking care to touch only the ceramic ring on the doorknob--installed after the third incident of melted fixtures in as many weeks--she gently opened the door. Just in time, she made sure to step back so whoever was on the other side wouldn’t get too close.

“Mr. Clay--Oh! Peril!” yelped Boto, taking a step back. The ripple of green across his scales was unmistakable. “Y-you’re actually the dragon I wanted to see.” he stuttered, keeping a very safe distance from her.

“Well, you saw me. Did you want to say something too?” she asked, and Clay looked up from his desk for a moment.

“Y-yeah, there’s a messenger from Queen Ruby out front, says they’re looking for you.”

Well, the hammer had to fall sometime. What would Ruby want with me now, though? She nodded. “Did they look like the ‘you’re under arrest’ kind of messenger or the ‘you’re cordially invited’ kind?” The answer didn’t really matter to her; she’d killed plenty of the first sort of messenger for Scarlet, and the most annoying members of the second type. Clay and Ruby probably wouldn’t like it if she did that, though.

“Uh… they weren’t armed, if that’s what you mean. At least, I think they weren’t. Could be anything in that satchel.” Boto replied, scratching his head.

She sighed in response, looking back to Clay. “I’ll be just a minute. And, uh, you can go,” she said, waving a claw at Boto. Before she could blink, he was gone.

“Okay, I’ll be right here grading papers. Miss you already!” he joked, as she headed out into the hallway.

The messenger didn’t appear to be here to haul her away. She’d never seen this SkyWing before, a skinny little slip of a drake with odd black marks on his toes and ankles, as if he’d been running in soot. There was indeed a satchel strapped over his shoulders, though, so he was definitely the messenger. From the satchel he pulled a little scroll, edged in gold, and made to hand it to her.

“That’s probably not the best idea,” she said, stepping back.

The messenger looked up and blinked. “Oh, yes… sorry, I’m wrecked. Been flying for eight hours all over the Sky Kingdom, you know how it is,” he said, wobbling a little on his feet. His voice was significantly deeper than Peril had expected from such a fun-sized drake. “Anyway! I have here a message from Queen Ruby herself, addressed to Peril.”

“That’s me, yes.”

“Okay, here’s how it goes.” He cleared his throat. “You are hereby invited to the second coronation of Queen Ruby, and the commemoration of the Sandwing War Memorial Garden. As an honored guest of the queen, rooms have already been set aside for you and a plus-one in the palace, and, as usual, the banquet halls will be open for all guests and well-wishers, along with any SkyWing who needs a warm meal.”

“Of course,” she said, though she could not remember Scarlet allowing anyone without at least half a pound of gold on their person into her feasts. “So, when is this? Do I need to RSVP or something?”

Stifling a yawn, the messenger continued: “The queen has requested that all guests arrive by sunset tomorrow, though the coronation is three days after that. If you’re sure you can’t attend, though, I’d be happy to take a message back to her majesty explaining why you rejected her offer in favor of staying at home.”

Ah, one of those requests. At least she probably wouldn’t have me arrested. The messenger stared at her as she silently weighed the options. On the one hand, I’d be hanging out with a bunch of SkyWings that think I’m a monster. On the other, Ruby would probably tolerate me a lot more if I made a good showing, and I can take Clay along too. Oh, and Cliff would probably be happy to see me. “Alright, I’ll be there. Hope nobody gets too scared.”

He grinned wearily. “I’ll relay that to her majesty, then. See you tomorrow--oh, and I’ll just, er, leave this on the floor,” he said, setting the scroll down in front of her.

“Thanks,” she said as he turned and stumbled towards the cave opening. With a grunt, he tossed himself off the edge, wings catching the air and carrying him in a wobbly glide away from the mountain until he was just a little orange speck.

She sighed, staring down at the scroll, and turned back down the hallway. Time to break the news to Clay.

All in all, he took it pretty well. The Herbology class had just finished their first trimester evaluations anyway, so there wasn’t much to do besides tend a couple of herb gardens and tend to the various headache and sprain patients that flew in from Sanctuary. “--and I’m sure the students can handle that. As long as Boto doesn’t stain anyone’s fangs blue by mistake.” He’d sounded pretty eager for the break, too, or maybe just eager for the feast. And, of course, the opportunity to share a set of private rooms with her. Not that there was anything untoward going on, but they couldn’t get very physical while Moon and Kinkajou were there, let alone the other four dragonets of destiny.

The flight was long, but not tiring. For the most part the summer sky stayed clear, and neither of them carried luggage--aside from a basket of snacks for Clay to graze from while they flew, which was an impressive display of coordination and appetite. They had been making small-talk, swapping little riddles and funny anecdotes, but as they drew close to the Skywing capital, he shuddered. Peril could tell he was nervous.

“What is it?” she asked, concerned. I hope he’s not getting worn out. We’ve still got a few miles to go and those rocks do not look like a comfy place to spend the night.

“Nothing,” he replied, but his eyes were fixed ahead. She couldn’t tell on what, though--the palace had always looked like that.

Oh duh, the palace. Not exactly full of happy memories for him . Peril recalled, feeling a bit selfish for taking him along. “It’s not the most attractive place, is it...”

“I forgot how tall the spires were… Or maybe I thought I would’ve grown.”

If she hadn’t been flying, she would’ve draped a wing over him. Maybe not for very long, though. “Well, you don’t need to be nervous as long as I’m around. Anyone who tries to chain you up is gonna have to get through me!”

“Thanks.” He smiled, but she could tell his thoughts were still elsewhere.

“Hmm… you’ve never been to a SkyWing feast, have you?” If nothing else, food will cheer him up.

“Not unless you count half-eaten carcasses and pigeons, no. Not that I resent the pigeons, of course, but I am a pretty big dragon. I’d need at least ten pigeons these days,” he joked.

She chuckled, banking down towards the landing stage. “Usually we go with something bigger, like cave bears.”

Clay’s eyes went wide, and he nearly fell flat on his face as they landed. The landing stage was a simple affair, a claw-scratched cliff hanging from the upper terraces of the palace where dignitaries came and went. It wasn’t empty, though--two soldiers arrayed in shining cuirasses and carrying gilded lances were standing vigil. One was holding a long scroll, so she trotted over to him, shaking her wings to get the weariness out. They drew close together as she walked up, crossing their spears to block the entrance.

“I’m here for the coronation,” she said. He glared at her. “Well? Are you going to let me in or not?” Clay had mostly regained his composure by this point, and came up beside her.

“Funny thing is, this list here has names on it, not portraits,” the guard drawled, shaking his scroll a bit. His partner looked over at her, then did a double-take. She looked so desperate to say something, but that was probably against regulation.

Great, the one SkyWing who’s never seen my face. I shouldn’t be so ornery, really--he’s probably the only one who’ll tolerate me for the next few days . “I’m Peril, and Clay’s my plus-one.” The second guard did another double-take, her eyes nearly bulging out of their sockets. If Peril didn’t do something quick, there was going to be a serious friendly-fire incident.

“Oh, Peril. Peril, Peril…” He ran his claw down the list, making a show of looking through all of the names. There couldn’t’ve been more than twenty on there. “Ah, there it is. You’re sleeping in Room Thirty-Two, this floor, but right now the queen is expecting all her guests to come to the main hall for the reception.” They raised their spears, finally, and Peril stepped through with a grumble.

The hallway beyond had changed a fair bit in her year and half of absence. Black rocks still burned in lanterns on the wall, but some sort of netting, held just above the fuel by metal frameworks, glowed even brighter than the flames, casting everything in stark white light. The floor glittered in red granite and white marble, and the tiles were impossibly well-polished for such a high-traffic area. Once they were a few strides into the mountain--and the second guard was telling off the first for “living in a cavern your whole life”--Clay spoke up.

“Are all SkyWings like that?” he asked.  

“Nah, just most of us.” She shrugged. “I don’t know what that guy’s deal was, though. He should treat his queen’s guests with more respect. Or at least treat me with more respect.”

“Maybe he’s used to dealing with people who believe everyone should know them,” he pondered. A servant poked their head out of a side door, but made the wise decision to let them pass.

“Well, he’s pretty bad at it. And what about you? You’re practically royalty yourself.”

“I don’t think they’re as fond of me as you are.”

“They better--” she cut herself off, realizing he’d been joking. “Oh, here’s the main hall,” she said, nodding to the doors ahead. They were large enough for two Darkstalkers to pass, if you stacked him, and encrusted with fine copper and bronze filigree. She’d seen them before, of course. Her eyes were drawn, as always, to the thin threads of gold that flowed up and out of the sun at the base, up into the Skywing seal to wrap around its diamond eyes. They reminded her of her own scales.

Through the doors, she could hear the din of conversation, so she paused for a moment outside. Giving Clay a moment to marvel at the doors was just a bonus. Then she set her claws on either side of the seam, and heaved. The doors opened soundlessly, but everyone in the room beyond turned to see who was coming in nevertheless. Force of habit drove her to take a quick headcount.

There was Ruby, holding a carefully neutral expression along with a canape, and clustered around her a gaggle of SkyWing nobles. Farther out were a number of dragons that she’d seen Scarlet browbeating once or twice--mine bosses, mostly. Then there were the other diplomats, one or two from each tribe--and was that a HiveWing, over in the corner?

After a moment, the conversations resumed, aside from a few odd looks, and they tiptoed in. “Well, nobody screamed or assumed they were being executed, so we’re off to a good start,” she said, quietly enough that only Clay could hear her.

He didn’t return her smile, being too busy taking everything in. “Hey, are those snacks for--”

A SkyWing had broken loose from the second group, and ran over to them. “Peril! I’m so glad you could make it!” Do I know this guy? Oh wait, his feet--he was the messenger, wasn’t he? Claws clattering on the tile, he stumbled to a halt in front of them, and held out a claw to shake.

Clay took it, and he seemed a bit less amused by that. Well, better than being on fire, dude. “Hi, I’m Clay, Peril’s--.”

“Cool, cool,” he said, then turned back to Peril. “Hah, they said I couldn’t get you to show up. ‘Too busy at that silly school’ my hindquarters! I’m Scorch, by the way.” He held out his claw again, and Peril stared at him.

“You’re gonna be scorched, if you keep trying to shake my claw.”

He laughed. “There’s that razor wit we all love! Come on, I’ll introduce you to everyone!” he said, beckoning her to follow. Has this guy totally lost it? She glanced at Clay, trying to convey her confusion, but his only response was a shrug. Well, no point in throwing away what few allies I… apparently have.

“Lead on, I guess,” she replied. The yip of excitement Scorch uttered was practically deafening, and there were a few laughs from the noble crowd. As it turned out, that was where he was taking her. Despite their humor, the noble SkyWings parted instantly as they saw who was approaching, splitting the crowd open so wide it was practically a line. In the middle stood only Queen Ruby and a few others, presumably her bravest(or most ignorant) generals.

“Peril…” the queen ventured, and the awkwardness was palpable. “Oh, and Clay!” she continued, seizing on his presence to defuse things. “I’ve heard… well, I haven’t heard much, but all of it is good! How is the, er, school going these days?” Unlike Scorch, she prudently avoided extending a claw to Peril and went straight for Clay.

Though Ruby was clearly no threat to him, there was still fear in his eyes as he took her hand, but it faded a little as he shook. “Pretty good, I’d say. Nobody’s unleashed a sealed ancient evil from its resting place under the mountain for nearly two trimesters.”

“That’s a relief.” From somewhere behind her, there was a little squeak. As it grew in intensity, she shifted uncomfortably and for a moment Peril thought there was something amiss. Then Prince Cliff bounded over her shoulder, straight for Peril. She shouted and cringed back, but Ruby caught him deftly, holding the yearling in one claw like a particularly excitable scavenger. “Dear, you know it’s rude to jump on our guests. Especially the ones that would set you on fire.”

“But mom, I haven’t seen Peril in months ,” he protested, wriggling in his mother’s grasp.

Peril herself was feeling very strange at the moment. She really wanted to give the prince a hug, for one thing, but obviously that was impossible. Also, he’d definitely improved his grammar, which was a little disconcerting. “Sorry, Cliff, but I’m really very hot. Not good climbing material.”

The prince grumbled as Ruby set him down, but made no move towards Peril. “I’ll just stand right here so we can catch up. Um, um, what to say first…” He seemed flummoxed by the sheer number of things that had undoubtedly happened in the past few months.

“There certainly are a lot of interesting dragons at this party, huh?” she prompted.

“Not really. Mostly just SkyWings who don’t want to talk. Ooh, but the dipple--uh, diplomats are all really cool! One of them’s a real live HiveWing; do you think he can shoot acid, or is that just a story?”

“I’m not really sure, I haven’t met him yet. Clay’s sister can shoot acid, though.”

Clay froze, realizing that Cliff was now staring squarely at him. “Hi, I’m Clay. Peril and I are… good friends. And Glory almost never spits acid,” he said, scratching his neck with one wing.

“Your sister is Queen Glory ? That’s almost at good as being Peril’s friend!” Suddenly, Cliff sprang to his feet. “Hey, wanna see something cool?” he asked, leaning in conspiratorially.

“Uh… yes?” Clay ventured, and Peril nodded.

“Yes! Come on!” He took a few steps towards a side door, but before he could lead them away, one of the generals who’d been politely avoiding looking at Peril stepped forward. Scorch was beside her, confusion on his face.

“Now hold on, I think we should finish introducing everyone first,” he ventured, and the dragoness nodded. She was bigger than Ruby by far, but impossibly lithe, and her scales shimmered with unusual blue barring. Under her left eye, a scar pushed through the scales, thin and puckered like a line of molten copper. “Peril, this is General Scoria.”

“Nice to meet you. I think the prince is getting impatient, though.” Indeed, Cliff was glaring at the general with the hatred only a frustrated child could muster. Ruby wouldn’t have stood for this, but she’d already moved to the newest set of guests to enter. At least that meant that she still trusted Peril with her kid--probably a poor judgement.

“The prince can wait a little while, surely?” Scoria asked, patting him on the head. He grumbled, but sat down. Still, his wings shifted uncomfortably. “That’s better.” She turned to Peril. “My, how you’ve grown!”

“I don’t think we’ve met.”

“Who else would’ve given me this ?” she said, gesturing to her scar. Peril flinched, and Clay tensed. Scoria waved dismissively. “It’s nothing, really, just a love-tap from a very young and clumsy firescales. I’ve felt far worse.” The scar looked a little too precise for Peril to believe that, though.

“Whatever you say, general. Is there anything else you wanted to talk about, or can we--”

“Yes, actually. I’d like to clear the air on something.” One of Peril’s eye ridges crept upward, and after a moment Scoria continued. “I think that you might be under the impression that the SkyWings still regard you with fear and distrust.”

“Most everyone else does, yeah.”

“Ah, but some of us have seen through Scarlet’s trickery.” Scorch nodded furiously as she spoke. “By all accounts, you have become quite the hero at that… academy.”

“Peril is a student like any other. Er, she follows the same rules,that is.” Clay said, fumbling slightly.

“How nice. My point is, a lot of SkyWings look up to you, now. You’ve become something of a celebrity.” Peril could almost hear the dramatic pause that Scoria was trying to leave out. “And I’m afraid you aren’t at all prepared to deal with that.”

“Nice to know you have faith in me.”

“I wasn’t finished ,” she growled, and for a moment, black smoke came from her nostrils. “That is to say, I’d like to help you. Understanding the vagaries of fame among the SkyWings is a challenge, but it carries with it great rewards.”

Listening to you pontificate is a challenge . “Cool. I’d like to see what the prince has to show me, so one of us isn’t getting what they want.” As Peril turned to leave, she let her tail whip around just far enough that it passed within a hair's breadth of Scoria’s un-scarred cheek. The general showed no fear, only annoyance. “Lead on, Cliff.”

Clay glanced back, but Peril refused to look as they walked away and Scoria followed, pushing through the crowd as it closed up behind the firescales. “I don’t think you quite--oof--understand what I’m--’scuse me--offering. Joining the SkyWing elite--ach--is a privilege for only the most beloved. You could--move over--be respected and adored by--”

Scoria was finally shut up by the side door slamming shut in her face. Peril jumped, and finally looked back.There was a slight smirk on Clay’s face as his tail retreated from whacking the door shut. “What a piece of work.”

“Scori’s usually not so nice. Maybe she likes you?” Cliff wondered, as he led them down the hallway to a central flight of stairs, open in the middle to let dragons fly up, if they wanted to. “My room is all the way on the tippy-top floor, right next to mom’s.” Leaping into the air, he flapped up the shaft much more adeptly than Peril remembered, and Clay had some trouble keeping up.

The top floor was wider than the others, and its roof was a large dome of glass and iron, through which Peril could see the stars, as well as the thin drifts of snow heaped up on the glass. Despite the altitude, though, it was warm and easy to breathe. “Wow…” Peril said, staring up through the roof. She’d never seen the night sky so clearly before. And yet Cliff barely glanced up, hurrying them to his room.

They followed him into the palatial space, and she realized what he’d been so excited about. Most of the room was pretty standard opulence, all gilded wood and wrought-iron, but in one corner was a little wooden easel. The ten or so paintings next to it weren’t amazing , but Cliff still rushed over to them.

“I’m an artist now! Look, here’s one of mom, and one of the Milky Way, ooh, and this one’s Jade Mountain!” He pointed to one of the portrait-style canvases, which held a somewhat lopsided recreation of the twin peaks. They looked a lot friendlier than in real life, and Peril could see a few dragons flitting about in the background. “I never saw it though, so I just guessed what it was like.”

Clay stepped forward to examine the painting more closely. “It’s certainly the best painting of Jade Mountain I’ve ever seen. How long have you been doing this?”

“Just a few months. My art tutor says I have ‘natural talent’.” Clay set the painting down, and Cliff immediately handed him another (a SkyWing in flight) before moving over to his sleeping area. It was covered in enough cushions and blankets to wholly engulf the poor boy, but he slipped under them instead, lifting the mattress and searching for something underneath. “There’s a few that she doesn’t like. I don’t know why, I tried really hard!”

Peril looked a little closer, making sure not to ignite any of his bedding or the canvases; which was no easy feat. What would a SkyWing teacher think is inappropriate? Did he draw someone in a good mood?

With a final grunt, Cliff yanked out two more paintings, one in each claw, and showed them to her. “See? Pretty good.’

“They’re… wow.” Peril was no art critic, but she could tell that there was something distinct about these two images. The strokes were broader, more punchy, and the colors were a lot darker, drawing attention to only the highlights. The subjects, though… she saw the tutor’s point. One showed Ruby’s victory over Scarlet, here rendered much larger than she’d been in real life, and Peril could tell that both of the combatant’s scales were soaked in gore. The other was a portrait.

“It’s a picture of you! I tried to, uh, make it more interesting.”

It certainly was. Peril could see her figure, certainly, but the scene failed to fit into her mind. In the painting, she was laying in a little forest clearing with Cliff, staring up at the clouds. There was no smoke or flame around her, no heaps of ash and bone, just trees and flowers. This is... no, I never could’ve…

“Uh, Peril, are you okay?”

“Y-yeah, I just really like it, is all.”  She looked over at Clay, and he smiled back at her. I made my choice. No going back. Hesitating only a little, she held out a claw towards Cliff. “Could I get a better look?”

“Sure!” Cliff replied, happily. Clay yelped, but before he could do anything the painting was in her hand. It burned quickly, the fire spreading from her clawtips across the canvas, which snapped and tore and flickered in all sorts of curious colors as it burned away. Then there was only the frame, and after a moment that too crumbled into ash.

“Peril!” Clay shouted, and she blinked.

“I--sorry, that was…” Cliff let out a loud squeal, and she cringed. Her wings were nearly over her eyes when she realized that he was poking at the ashes, not just bawling. “Uh, Cliff? You good?”

“I just wanted to show you my paintings but this is so much better!” He scooped up a clawful of ash and carried it over to his easel. “Real ash from the coolest dragon in Pyrrhia! Oh, this is the best thing ever!”

“Hang on, you’re not mad that Peril just obliterated one of your paintings?” Clay asked. She glared at him, and he shrugged back.

“No way!” he replied, pouring out a bit of the darker ash into a small cup and mixing it with a bit of mineral oil. What came out when he dipped the brush in was a striking red paint, which he began slapping onto the canvas happily. “All my paints are made from ash, but usually it’s from, uh… those big metal ovens. This is way better!”

“Huh. I didn’t know ash was so useful.” That explained the dustiness of the corner where the easel was kept, at least. Peril was happy to watch Cliff paint, but Clay trotted over to her. A shiver ran through her as he whispered in her ear.

“ What was that about, Peril? Are you doing okay? ” he asked.

She turned to reply, still keeping one eye on the visage forming on Cliff’s canvas. “ It just reminded me of the last time I was here. The worst parts of it, that is. ”

“ The worst part was sitting in a clearing with your friend? ”

“ If it reminds me of the fact that I can never do that again, and I once had the chance to? Yeah. ” Clay grimaced, and she realized Cliff was staring at them curiously. “We were just… talking about some grown-up stuff. Nothing for princes to worry about.” After a moment, Cliff shrugged and turned back to the painting. It was only then that Peril noticed Clay’s wing laying over her back, just gingerly enough to avoid the worst of her heat. She snuggled a little closer, savoring the river-rock smoothness of his armor plates.

They were forced to separate in a hurry as a knock came at the door. “Ah! Just a sec!” yelped Clay, running over to the door as fast as his bum leg could carry him. As Peril drew up behind him, he cracked it open and saw an unfamiliar face waiting on the other side. The HiveWing from earlier was standing there, looking very bored. His scales were beige and tan, with only the barest black streaks, and despite his alien appearance Peril could already tell he was no looker.

“You are needed downstairs. The queen wants all her guests present for as long as possible,” he announced, and they stepped out into the hallway.

“See you tomorrow, Cliff! Don’t stay up too late painting!” Peril shouted over her shoulder as she left. Clay mumbled a goodbye too, but he was mostly staring at the HiveWing.

The foreigner returned his examination, then held out a hand. “I am Anopheles, and you two are?”

“I’m Clay, and this is Peril,” he replied, returning the handshake. “She can’t shake hands with you, I’m afraid.”

He let out a buzzing sigh. “Is that a cultural more here, or simply a deliberate snub?”

“I’m a firescales. If I shook your hand, you’d lose it.”

“Oh!” he said, recoiling suddenly and examining her with fresh eyes. “A Pyrrhian abberation? And you are allowed to roam free?”

“As of last year, yeah. Got a problem with that?” She said, pushing towards him even as he drew back.

“I, ah, meant no offense. It is simply the way things are done in my country. Pantala is a very flammable place.” Anopheles shrugged, already turning away from them to leap down the shaft. They followed after him, and for a moment the rushing air wiped out any other sound. Then they fluttered to a stop at the bottom, and he continued. “So, what do you two make of this affair?”

“Certainly the best formal reception I’ve ever been to,” Clay joked.

“Really? I find the enclosed space quite… oh, I see. You were being humorous to disguise a lack of experience.”

“Yeah…”

“Kind of rude to point that out, don’t you think?” Peril asked, rudely.

Anopheles cringed, and a sharp scent of licorice filled the air. “Apologies. The HiveWings have more… subtle ways of communicating our emotion than sarcasm. I am still developing an understanding of the Pyrrhian way of doing things, even with my unique talents in the area.”

“Unique talents?” Clay asked, as they passed through the servant’s entrance and back into the grand hall. Nobody paid much notice to this time, though Ruby did look away from her brothers to nod in their direction.

“I am very sensitive to certain emotional indicators, even more so than other HiveWings,” With an odd snuffle, he flared a second pair of nostrils behind his first. “That is why Queen Wasp assigned me… here…” He trailed off as Scoria and Scorch approached again, looking slightly irritated. Of course, “slightly irritated” for a SkyWing was “murderously enraged” in any other tribe.

“Thank you for fetching Peril. You’re dismissed,” she said, and Anopheles sighed before trotting off. Scorch handed him a canape. Then Scoria turned to the two of them, and the flame in her eyes was reduced to mere coals. “Welcome back to the reception, you two.”

“Have you got anything else to say? Or did you just want to bother us?” Peril asked

“ Peril… ” Clay murmured, bumping his wing against her flank.

Scoria leaned in, and Peril felt a bit uneasy as her own body language was turned against her. They were eye to eye; she could’ve killed Scoria with a twitch but the fear wasn’t in her opponent’s eyes. “ You really have no idea what you’re doing, do you? ” A sigh almost forced its way out of her as Scoria pulled back. “Fine. You don’t want my help, then make do on your own. I’ve got other proteges anyway. Come on, Scorch.” Her tail nearly whacked Clay in the face as she turned around and strolled off.

Scorch didn’t follow her right away. Instead, he scurried over to them, wings pulled in tight. “I’m really sorry about her, guys, but she’s been under a lot of stress lately. With Scarlet’s challenge, and the new tariffs, and all that.”

And why should I care? Peril wondered, but said nothing.

“You should really consider her offer, though. Scoria is one of the most influential people in the kingdom, especially now that Scarlet’s gone. And if you two worked together… well, that’d just be great for everyone!”

“Hm. See, I don’t think you’re grasping what I’m trying to communicate. I. Don’t. Care.” Taking Clay’s hand, she tried to walk away but Scorch cut them off.

“Please, just give her a chance--”The next few seconds passed faster than usual. All Peril had time to notice was a sudden cool pressure against her scales, too far forward to be Clay, and then the screaming started. Scorch fell back, and she could see that a huge patch of his scales were, well, scorched away.

Peril shouted incoherently, trying not to look at the gruesome scene in front of her. Without even looking at her, Clay charged into action, pointing at a few shocked nobles who were looking on. “You two, I need one of those curtains! And you, a pitcher of cold water!” They stared at him, confused. “Do you want this guy to die? Go, now!” She didn’t see them rush into action, as she was too busy wrapping her wings over her head, trying very hard to be as small as she could. The only thing she could focus on, in that moment, was the hint of a grin on Scoria’s face.

Chapter Text

Peril awoke with a backache and a sheen of cold sweat on her scales. Prying herself up from her sprawling position on the floor, she took in their bedroom for the first time. It had been dark when she’d walked in, and she hadn’t been in a lamplighting mood. There wasn’t really much to it; Clay was staring at her from the actual bed and a small lamp burned over a writing desk chiseled into one wall. “Urghhh, what happened?”

Clay’s mouth hung open for a moment as he found the words. “You nearly killed someone, and then decided to follow that one up by hiding in our room all night until you fell asleep on the floor.”

Her claws struggled to stay in line as she wiped the sleep out of her eyes, and some drool off her cheek. “That explains the sore back. Is Scorch okay?”

“He’ll have a big old scar, but nothing vital was hit. Actually seemed pretty calm about the whole ordeal.” Clay yawned,and fell back on the blankets. “Sorry, I ate half my weight in food at the hospital. Did you know when you save someone’s life here they just give you cows?”

“I don’t think I’d ever qualify.” There was a heavy thump as her head hit the floor again. Compared to that, the soft patter of Clay’s feet as he walked over to her was almost inaudible. She nearly took flight when he lay down next to her, just barely avoiding touch.

“Well, you saved my life. I might not be able to give you… six… cows, but we are alone in here for most of the day.” He leaned in closer and she felt his breath on her brow, just a fraction warmer than the rest of the room. “ Plenty of time to claim your reward .”

She smiled despite herself. “ You dork. Come here. ” They drew closer, and she could feel his muscles softening under her heat. His breaths came faster as their tails twined together; hers quickened when his snout slipped into the crook of her neck.

There was a sudden knock at the door, and they both yelped. Before anyone could see, they pulled apart, stumbling over themselves and ending up in two heaps on the floor. “Come in!” Clay shouted.

The door creaked open. Behind it was Anopheles. He looked well-rested, and his scales shone with a waxy gleam. As he examined the two of them, the room filled with an oddly bitter citrus scent. “Hello.”

“...Hello. We weren’t--”

“It does not take an empath to figure out that you two were… entangled. Do not worry, I keep my secrets.” He shrugged. “Scoria asked me to relay you a message.”

Peril sighed, feeling the weight of things settle back onto her. “Fine, let’s hear it.”

“Ok. First, to ‘the MudWing’--which I assume refers to you, Clay--she sends her sincere thanks for saving the life of her mate.”

“Wait, those two are--”

“Please save all questions to the end of the message. Anyway, thanks to Clay, and to Peril: you are formally invited to take lunch with the general, in her private quarters. I believe that this would be in about… two hours.” He glanced towards the wall, as if expecting a window half a mile underground.

“Is that the end of--”

“Also, her private quarters are located at her estate, some twenty miles distant, so she suggested you get going soon. That is all.” His posture settled as he finished the message, wings folding out slightly.

“Well, she can keep her invitation. Clay and I are booked.”

“Yes, you did seem quite busy.”

Clay blushed. “W-we were going to see the sights in the Sky Kingdom, actually. Neither of us have gotten much of a chance before.” He glanced over at her,

“Mhm. Lots to see…” What? She thought, in response to his accusatory glare. Not like I’d know anyplace .

Anopheles looked over both of them, nostrils twitching as he sniffed the air. “You are lying. That said, if you were planning on sightseeing, Scoria’s estate is one of the most impressive structures in the kingdom. It is located just adjacent to a large foundry cavern, where most SkyWing weapons are manufactured, and there is quite a collection of pieces on display within the house itself. I speak from experience when I say it rivals any of the palaces in Pyrrhia.”

Peril yawned. “You already knew we were planning on staying in. Why the hard sell?”

“The general has a vested interest in seeing you succeed, and I have a vested interest in staying on her good side. For one thing, she offers feasts during midday, unlike the queen.” For a moment, Clay perked up, but he glanced at her and soon pretended to have heard nothing. “And for another, she would appreciate a formal apology for nearly killing her mate.”

“Uh…” murmured Peril, unsure how to respond. In the space of a single sentence, Anopheles had gone from collected to accusatory.

“If we were in Pantala, you would already have been paralyzed and put up on display for the nobles to gawk at. The fact that Scoria is still trying to work with you is a sign of extreme tolerance on her part.”

“Are you threatening me?”

“Just advising. I could care less if she never speaks to you again, but I suspect you care a bit more about any rumors that may spread were you to avoid apologizing. People might think you had gone back to your… old ways.”

Her back stiffened, the ridges standing bolt upright. I have to go. “You’re the most annoying HiveWing I’ve ever met… but I don’t really have a choice, do I?”

“Of course you have a choice. You always had a choice.” He grinned at them, and Clay growled. It seemed like Anopheles hadn’t realized how much larger her boyfriend was than him, until that moment.

“That’s enough. Peril and I need to discuss this. Alone.” Clay kept his stance wide, with back arched and teeth bared.

Is it weird that I find this kinda hot? Peril wondered.

Anopheles quailed, and began to back out the door. “I look forward to seeing you both,” he said, then turned tail and ran.

Clay shook himself, looking a little nauseous, and returned to his normal posture. “Ugh, that was awful. I’m so sorry for you.”

Neither of them spoke for a long second, but she twined her tail through his. “ Thanks for standing up for me ,” she whispered, and pecked him on the cheek.

“Careful, people will think you’re going soft now that you’ve got such a big strong boy to protect you.”

“That’s sort of the goal.” Her first impulse was to get her things together, until she realized that they hadn’t brought any luggage. Getting ready to go consisted of nothing more than wiping the ashy residue from her scales and checking that there wasn’t anything stuck in her teeth. “Are you planning on coming with me?”

“I’m not missing out on a free lunch. Plus, maybe I can start figuring out what’s up with that guy.” He didn’t bother to check his teeth before they headed out into the hallway. It was mostly deserted, apart from a few messengers and the occasional guard by a VIP’s door.

“Him?” She didn’t really care what Anopheles was up to. He was a bother, but Scoria was the real threat. Not that she had any political experience. Well, executing the queen’s rivals is technically a political thing. Sorta.

“He’s unusually comfortable for someone who’s only been here a few weeks, and whatever’s happening over on Pantala, it sounds like the HiveWings aren’t exactly… friendly, as a rule.” Clay shrugged. “I’m not saying he’s evil or anything… actually, I am. He said all those mean things to you.” The note of genuine concern in his voice reminded her of the first times they’d met, back when Clay was still naive. Dragons had been far meaner to her than that without being evil.

“He’s probably just trying to get to me.” And succeeding. They reached the end of the hallway and made it past the guards without incident. “Just follow me to the estate, okay? I made a few visits there with the old queen, once upon a time.”

With a nod from Clay, they took to the air. It wasn’t long before his wings started to wobble as he flew. She realized that he was running on fumes. “Hey, you don’t have to push yourself--if you’re not up to making the flight, I can handle this.”

“N-no,” he replied, breathing hard. “I’m coming with you. It’s only twenty miles, that’s just half an hour’s flight.”

“...okay.” Still, she shifted her path to fly under him, ready to make a quick catch if he faltered. The sound of rushing air prevented much further conversation as they got up to speed, and she let him focus on keeping airborne for most of the flight. Finding their destination wasn’t hard--the foundries put out plumes of black smoke at all hours of the day, visible for many miles around once they got out of the valley.

As they crossed the final ridge before the estate and it came into full view, she shuddered. It wasn’t ugly , certainly not in comparison to the great quarries and derricks and smokestacks further down the mountain, but it was odd. The builder had clearly sought to break with convention by building the whole framework of the place from wrought iron, woven and riveted across the cliffs. It was an immense display of wealth that also happened to look like a colossal black spider perched above the mines.

They thudded down on the metal landing platform with an unfamiliar clunk . Three guards, all in full plate armor, were waiting to greet them. The tallest of them nodded, and motioned to the door. “General Scoria is waiting for you in her solar, on the top floor. Leave the MudWing behind.”

Peril bristled, but Clay was too tired to notice. “Fine. Where’s the regular luncheon served? Clay could use a bite to eat.”

“Yes I could!” he said, suddenly paying close attention to the guard’s words.

“The estate’s dining hall is on the third floor… although I’m not sure if he’d be allowed there.” She turned to one of the other guards. “Are we still letting MudWings in the DFAC? Didn’t Scoria say we could turn ‘em away?”

The one on the left shrugged. “Dunno. But this one is Peril ’s MudWing, so we should probably play it safe.”

“We’re right here, you know,” Peril said.

“Which is why I’m giving, er, Clay special dispensation to eat in our dining hall, yes. He should be grateful for some time out of the mines. Third floor.”  The guard crossed her arms.

“You okay with that, Clay? I’ll come get you as soon as I’m done.”

Clay laughed. “Don’t be too quick!” Still, he put a claw over hers and pressed softly, just for a moment. That was all the thanks she needed.

She took the lead as they headed past the guards to the central shaft of the estate. It was much like that of the palace, but only one side was solid rock. The other two were a simple iron framework, covered with thin cloth. It rippled in the wind that blew through the open ends of the shaft, and Peril shivered. It was especially chilly this high up. Clay stumbled, but jumped in nonetheless, flapping down to a door set in the rock  and hurrying inside, licking his chops. After spending only a few seconds wishing she could follow, she took off as well, heading upwards.

It was a surprisingly long way to the top floor, and the solar was even above that, built on top of the estate beyond the upper end of the shaft. She clambered up onto the wooden decking and shivered even harder. There was little cover from the freezing mountain winds up here, beyond a large awning stretched out from the rock. It was anchored to cover the shaft entrance and keep some of the wind off. Scoria was sitting just at the edge of the covered area, on a bench next to a table laden with food and a large brazier full of the black rocks. The fire kept the area near her much warmer than the rest of the platform.

“Ah, hello. I’m so glad you took me up on my offer. Hungry?”

“Very. Why don’t you talk while I eat?” At very least it’ll make her happy. Peril hadn’t eaten in nearly a whole day, and she took the chance to grab a leg of mutton and crunch into it as Scoria spoke.

“Erm, okay. I was planning on letting you lead the conversation, since you seemed so eager to last night, but it seems you’ve mellowed.” There was a lull of several minutes, during which Peril practically inhaled half the food on the table. “Does this mean you’ve reconsidered your stance on my plan?”

Peril gulped down her current mouthful and shook her head. “No. I came to apologize for burning Scorch. I heard you two were close…”

“Him? No, never close. We mated once, but it was nothing of consequence. When’s the funeral?”

“Funeral? He’s not dead, just in the hospital. I’m surprised you haven’t had him brought back here yet, honestly.”

“Oh… how fortunate.” A grimace stretched across Scoria’s face, despite the good news. “Still, it is a shame that his eagerness to help me resulted in injury. At least he lives up to the name now.” She chuckled a little.

Yeah, I definitely want to work for this psycho. “Mhm. What was it you wanted to talk about, then? Surely you don’t give etiquette lessons to every young SkyWing.”

“Oh no, the etiquette lessons are just one component of my plans for you. You might not realize this, Peril, but you are very important.”

She grabbed a bit of candied pear from the table and swallowed it before her claws could burn through the sugar. “For what?”

“After Queen Scarlet’s disappearance, many dragons felt that Ruby was an unfit replacement. Our tribe, once characterized by strength and independence, was now led by a bleeding-heart peacemaker who loves her son more than her nation.” Even for a SkyWing, there was an unusual quantity of vitriol in her voice. “Many of us were left looking for someone to bring us back to the path of power, of meritocracy.”

Peril rolled her eyes. “You seem pretty qualified.”

“No, not me. I possess power. Our leader must embody strength, must have the undying will to utterly destroy their enemies. They have to earn the throne. In other words… well, they must be you.”

“Huh.” A scrap of gristle fell from her teeth, instantly carbonizing as it touched her lip.

“Think about it! You’re the perfect embodiment of what SkyWings stand for: unbending, fierce, indomitable. An eternal flame to lead us forward into the future!”

Ah, I see. She’s lost it. “I don’t think I’m the dragon you’re looking for. You know about all the people I murdered, right?”

“Know about them? I attended every fight I could! And besides, you were serving the queen, and thus the SkyWing tribe as a whole. What could be more honorable than that?”

“Being, y’know, a good person? Like, not murderous, and kind, and willing to show mercy?” Basically, being like Clay.

Scoria sighed. “You have matured since then, of course, but you are still the perfect fit. Now, let’s discuss the terms of our deal. I am willing to provide financial--”

“Hang on, what deal?”

“Isn’t it obvious?” Scoria cocked her head to the side. “I want you to challenge Queen Ruby.” The bone Peril had been gnawing on clattered to the ground as she dropped it in surprise. “Oh, don’t be so dramatic. It’s not like you’ll have to kill her. Probably. And if you do, who cares? Easy fight and then you’re queen.”

It was an enticing offer, apart from the parts where she absolutely hated it. “I’m not even qualified to challenge her. Doesn’t matter how hot my scales are if I’m not a princess.”

“Oh, but you are. There’s an old SkyWing doctrine that one of my associates dug up, Soror Avita . Back when all of Queen Haast’s daughters were crushed in the same cave-in that took her life, it was decided that any dragonet who’d grown up as the queen’s own would be eligible to succeed the throne. Well, any female dragonet.”

A thought came to Peril, and her tail twitched nervously. Hrmmm. Outing myself to this wackjob or killing the queen. Tough choice, but I think--

“Oh, I already know your little secret.” Scoria said, glancing at her tail. “Nobody else does, besides a couple guards and Scorch, but I don’t think it’ll be an obstacle. Who cares if you’re a real dragoness; Ruby isn’t even a real dragon!”

“I am a real dragoness!”

“Sure you are. I knew your mother, and more importantly I know the guards that were assigned to her. Always going on about her long-lost son, showing us all those big scars on her palms. And I don’t exactly see any other firescales running around. Stars, she was mad when we took her back inside after the trial. Not sure what her beef with the MudWing was, though.”

A sick feeling filled Peril’s stomach, as she realized just how comprehensively her mother hated what she was. At least she’d tried to fake it, so there was probably a little love left for her dragonet. No such luck for Clay, though. At least his “little secret” was safe.

“You look sick, dear. Is there something wrong with the food?” Peril shook her head, trying to hold in a shout. “Oh, I see. You think I agree with your mother. Quite the opposite, I assure you. Who wouldn’t want to be a dragoness, when given the chance? Certainly, I’d have faked it were I born as a member of the weaker sex.”

“Nobody is faking! We--I really am who I say I am!” Peril wished she could burn Scoria to a crisp, then felt awful for wishing that. I’ve got to do something , though. Anything would be better than sitting here, powerless! As she got to her feet the bench she was sitting on fell over with a clang . “You know what, Scoria? You can take your offer and shove it!”

The ridge of bone above Scoria’s eye crept upwards about half an inch. “Now now, let’s not get overly emotional. We’re both adults here, think about the greater good.”

“The greater good? You want a murderer for a queen!” Thick smoke swirled up from Peril’s skin. The mountain winds blew it back behind her like the tail of a comet.

“And here she is, in front of me. Ruby is unfit to rule, and you’re the perfect replacement. You even switched over to the correct gender; it’s practically fated to happen.” Scoria held out her talon, and it took all of Peril’s willpower not to grab it and hold tight until there was nothing left of her but ash.

She took a deep breath. Gradually, the smoke receded. “I’m not that dragon anymore. Whoever you want me to be, I don’t want to be that person. I love Cliff, and I respect his mother.”

“At least stay for dessert…” Scoria replied, mournfully. Her eyes were no less cold.

Peril turned to walk away, then looked back. “Actually, another thing: You know that MudWing? The one you treated so rudely, the one who your guards tried to deny access to the regular dining hall, let alone joining me in this meeting?”

“Yes? What was his name, Clod or something? I can barely understand their accents.”  Scoria waved dismissively.

“It’s Clay. He’s my boyfriend, and he’s a better dragon than you’ll ever be.” Stick that in your pipe and smoke it. She only spent a few seconds savoring the shock on Scoria’s face before turning again, and walking back to the shaft. Not bothering to wait for a reply, she stepped forward and let herself fall.

When she walked into the dining hall--which was more of a cave, really, just with a smoothed floor and a few lanterns on the wall--there was little commotion. It was mostly deserted, apart from a few half-armored guards enjoying their break and Clay. He was finishing off a mountain goat. “Come on, let’s get out of here,” she said, walking up to the spot he was sitting in near the animal pen.

“Mmph mm--” he swallowed what he’d been chewing and started over”--sorry, what’s the rush?”

Her gaze was drawn to the guards at another pen, who were deep in conversation about the particular merits of setting your crossbow bolts on fire. Do those guys know about Scoria’s plan? Do they know I know? “It’s a long story, I’ll tell you about it on the flight back. Short of it is, Scoria was a real jerk and I doubt she’ll be put off by a strong ‘no thank you’.”

Their eyes met, and his were the first to soften. Regretfully pushing aside the remains of his meal, Clay stood. “Alright, let’s go. I’ve had enough to eat anyway.”

“Thank you,” she said, nuzzling her snout against his cheek as they walked out. The stares from the guards barely even registered. Her throat burned with the desire to vent her anger, but she waited until they were back up the shaft and well clear of the estate before she spoke. “Stars, she’s even worse than we thought,” she began, then, in as hushed a tone as was practical, she summed up the conversation with Scoria.

“She wants you to do what!?” he roared, and Peril smiled despite herself.

“Challenge Queen Ruby, yeah. Probably kill her too, given how much Scoria seems to hate her.” She rolled her eyes. “I’m not going to. Scoria’s all bluster.”

“Yeah… but bluster can wreak some serious havoc.” Clay said, punching through a cloud of smoke and leaving a MudWing-shaped hole. “She knows that you’re trans, for one thing. And she could probably figure it out for me, too.”

“So what? It’s not some big secret, at least for me. If she wants everyone to know what my nethers look like, she’s the weird one.”

Clay laughed, a much warmer and stronger sound than Scoria’s chuckle. “Fair enough!” He took a moment to calm down, and the grim cast returned to his face. “But you should at least tell Ruby.”

“About my dick?”

“Your--No, about the plot on her life! She needs to know--and maybe she can help protect you from any more unwanted solicitors.”

“Yeah, maybe. So, what’d you learn about our HiveWing friend?” Sorry for not giving you more time to snoop, Clay.

“Not much, sadly. He’s put up in the royal palace, not Scoria’s estate, but they work together. Nobody’s quite sure why, he just showed up a few weeks ago saying Queen Wasp had sent him as a diplomat.”

“Or a spy.”

“That’s the prevailing theory, yeah. Other than that, nothing. Most of the people I talked to barely knew him. But I did hear about something else,” he said, as they crested a mountain ridge and left the smoke of the foundries behind.

“Yeah?”

“Seems to be that Scoria has a ‘backup plan’ for if she can’t convince you to go through with it. I didn’t think it was relevant when I heard it ‘cause I assumed she was just a meddler, but if she wants the queen dead…”

Peril furrowed her brow.“A superweapon? Or just a spare heir, maybe. Didn’t think Scarlet had any, though.”

“Probably not an heir, or else she wouldn’t’ve spoken to you. But it did sound like a person; or at least something alive. They were discussing who would have to ‘feed them’ next.”

“Something dangerous, then. Guess Ruby needs to know about that too.” She sighed, but the wind caught the sound. “It would have been nice to just go on a trip without getting caught up an aristocratic conspiracy.”

“I’ll drink to that. Actually, I have been drinking to that for the last hour or so. But…” He flew a little closer, and she felt his claw against his. “Be careful, Peril.”

Chapter Text

Peril ran her claw along the edge of one of the wall panel, trying to count the little branches on one of the trees engraved into it. Of course, she didn’t care about wall art at all. It’s just that there was literally nothing better to do while waiting to see Queen Ruby. At least her guards aren’t as belligerent as Scoria’s , she thought. Yawning, she sat down on the floor and curling her tail around herself. It had been an hour since they’d told her to wait outside, and her legs were getting tired of standing.

Right then, the door swung open, and she had to scramble backwards. The servant opening it shouted as well, jumping in the other direction, and they both took a moment to calm down. “Er… the queen will see you now,” said the servant, quickly recovering her decorum.

“Finally,” she grumbled, and walked in past them. The throne room was mostly empty these days, with only a small honor guard flanking the queen’s dais. Ordinarily anyone who wanted to meet with the queen would’ve lined up inside, but since Peril was late and also a firescales she’d been told to wait outside. Ruby looked up as she walked in, and smiled wearily.

“Ah, Peril. Good afternoon.” She paused expectantly. Despite her misgivings, Peril bowed her head. Neither of them were smiling after that. “What was it you wanted to speak with me about?”

“I, uh…” Remember, Peril, you’re trying to be careful. “Can we speak more privately? I’ve learned some disturbing things that are best kept private.”

Ruby cocked her head. “Really, even from my guards?” Peril nodded. “...Alright, we can speak in my quarters. Not like they’d be any more protection than you are.” One of the guards raised a talon to interject, then glanced at Peril and slowly let it fall. Ruby chuckled, and stepped down from her throne, leading her towards a blank section of wall.

“Uh, what’s…” she started, then stopped as Ruby pressed her claw into the wall and a section of it swung away on silent bearings. She never would’ve guessed there was a door there; the cracks between the wall paneling and the door were basically invisible, covered up by moulding.

“Servants’ entrance, but also a nice shortcut out of here.” Ruby clarified, and led them through a dark back tunnel, which was lined with doors and little peepholes. The only lighting came from small pieces of glowing rock, placed along the tunnel every so often and casting the whole place in a sickly shade of green. Peril was glad when they finally reached Ruby’s room and emerged back into the normal decor of rich warm colors and expensive metalwork.

“Here we are, then,” said Ruby, hopping up on her bed and letting Peril take a nearby marble bench. “What was it you wanted to tell me?”

Clearing her throat, she tried to think of the best way to phrase things. “You know about my encounter with General Scoria and her mate last night, yeah?”

“As does everyone who was there, yes.”

“Okay, harsh. Anyway, this morning the HiveWing diplomat, Anopheles, asked me to fly to Scoria’s estate and meet with her privately. Which I did.”

Ruby reclined slightly, tail flicking back and forth lazily. “Well, what’d she tell you?”

“Quite a bit. Apparently, she’s not as loyal as you might have suspected. In fact, she wants to get rid of you, because you’re not ‘strong enough’ or something.”

“I’m aware of that, though it is good to hear more confirmation. There are some advantages to having a mother as controlling as mine; you end up knowing a lot of spies.”

Peril cringed, remembering all the times Scarlet had seemed to know what she was up to before she did. Were the peepholes around back then too? “...yes. And, er, she wanted me to, y’know… do it .”

“Kill me?” Ruby asked, narrowing her eyes but not lifting her head from the cushions.

“Well, challenge you, but… yes, if it came to it.” Ruby’s claws bit into the bedspread and Peril lifted hers in front of her defensively. “I would never--”

“Of course not.” The tension vanished as quickly as it had appeared, and Ruby sighed. “I suppose the doctrine of Soror Avita could apply, yes. If one were to assume that I wasn’t a proper heir.”

“Wait, how would that work?”

The earring still stuck in her ear jingled slightly as Ruby brushed a claw against it. “Well, I wasn’t exactly born to Queen Scarlet, was I? Still, I could always take the earring off. Unless someone found a firescales to kill me first, I suppose.”

“Uh…” The bench under Peril suddenly felt very cold. She drew her wings in, shrinking down towards the floor.

“Don’t be so worried, I understand the situation. It’s unfortunate that you got dragged into the middle of this as soon as you returned to my kingdom; it wasn’t my intent. Do you think you can avoid Scoria?”

Peril straightened, letting confidence show through her posture.“What’s she going to do to me? I’m a firescales; no dragon alive can make me do something I don’t want to.”

Also rising to a crouch, Ruby scratched her chin. “Quite so. Now, I can’t have her arrested as long as she’s hiding out in that ironwork monstrosity she calls a house. Do you know of any associates who might be aware of her plan?”

“Anopheles--”

“--has diplomatic immunity and possibly some kind of fiendishly toxic venom, so he’s out of the pen.”

“Okay. Scorch is Scoria’s mate and probably knows something about the plan, but I dunno how much. Isn’t he just downstairs in the hospital, though?”

Ruby whispered something unprintable. “Not anymore . He was moved just this morning, on the personal request of, who else, General Scoria.” She flopped back down to the bed. “Ugh. Is there anything else you heard that might be actionable?”

“Well, Clay did some snooping for me while I was in the meeting, and apparently I’m not Scoria’s only plan. Someone or something else is her backup, but we don’t know much about it apart from that it needs to be fed and kept under guard.” Peril scratched her neck. “Does that help?”

“Not especially. I’d imagine she thinks she’s got another heir, but who knows. Could be one of Blister’s dragonbite vipers, too. Always a popular choice for regicide.” Ruby shrugged.

A flicker of flame crossed Peril’s claws. “How can you be so relaxed about this? Your life is at stake!” she shouted, then blushed and covered her mouth.

The queen took no offense. “It’s part of the job, dear. We all have to die someday, and I’ll likely bite it earlier than most. At least I can do some good before I go.”

“That’s morbid.” Reminds me of how I used to think. Who cares about the winner, as long as it’s a good fight for Scarlet?

“I suppose it is,” replied Ruby, looking truly concerned for the first time. “Stay away from Scoria, okay?”

“Of course, but--”

“I’ll turn a blind eye to any ‘accidental burns’ that may befall her cronies, okay? Don’t kill any of them.” Ruby stood up and began moving back to the servants’ entrance. I guess we’re done talking, then. Didn’t really accomplish much. The hidden door clicked open and they plunged back into the tunnel beyond. “Also, congratulations on mating with Clay.”

The rocks wobbled beneath Peril and she fell, sprawling in the tight confines of the tunnel. “W-what does that mean?”

“Well, I’m not sure why else he’d be following you around, unless you were carrying his eggs. That’s the usual SkyWing way, at least, though maybe MudWings are different.” Ruby extended a claw to help Peril up before realizing her mistake and pulling it back.

She pried herself off the floor unaided, and tried to explain: “We-we’re close, but we’re not that close. Clay and I stick together because we’re… in love with each other? Isn’t that usually how these things go?” Probably not the best time to explain that Clay would carry my eggs, either.

“Oh, I see. Mating for love…” she said, in the same tone one would say “talking to scavengers”, and shook her head sadly. “Well, if anyone could make it work, a dragonet of destiny could.”

Peril huffed, forgetting for a moment that this was the queen. “What am I, chopped cabbage?”

Her claw already on the handle of the throne room door, Ruby paused and let out a bark of laughter. “You too, yeah.”

Something came to Peril, very suddenly. “Actually, you shouldn’t worry about me becoming queen.”

“Oh?” Ruby took her talons off the handle, which was a relief. The last thing Peril wanted was to discuss this in full view of everyone. “And why is that?”

“Well, I’m…” Stars, it really doesn’t get any easier, does it? “I wasn’t born female.”

“Wait, how does that work? Did someone put a spell on you?” Leaning in, Ruby checked her for suspicious jewelry.

“No, I have a natural female mind, or soul, or whatever, but a male body. It makes me really uncomfortable to be called by male pronouns or seen as a male though. Still, if it came down to it I think I could make the case that… what are you staring at?”

There was a short, sickening silence. “I see it now, yes. Hah, to think I’d been fooled. Once you know, you barely look female at all.”

The tunnel dimmed even more as smoke streamed off of Peril’s scales. “Did you even hear what I said? I am a dragoness!””

“No, you’re a drake who likes being called a dragoness. Not that there’s anything wrong with that, but some of us have to be preoccupied with reality , and the reality is that you’re not a dragoness and you never will be. I suppose Scoria had no trouble believing you, though.”

Is she implying that I’m only trans because it’ll help me be queen!? “No she didn’t but that’s not--that’s not the point, okay?”

“Sure it isn’t. Well, it’s a relief to hear that I really don’t have any other competition right now.” Ruby turned away from her and pushed through the door. She’d hopped up into her throne before Peril could get through, and stared down imperiously at her.

“You’re missing the point! Just because I wasn’t born the same way you were doesn’t mean I don’t deserve respect!”

“Whoever said I didn’t respect you? I’m just stating facts. As I expect you to do the next time Scoria pesters you. Man up, and all that.”

“Agh! You don’t get it!” Peril shouted, and the guards leveled their spears at her, looking a bit confused.

Ruby sighed. “You’re acting like a dragonet.” Peril’s tail left flaming trails in the air as it whipped back and forth, and she growled at the queen. “Okay, I think you need some time to cool off. Guards, get this drake out of here.”

Now the guards were giving Ruby their confused looks. “Uh, what drake? I only see Peril.” A low hiss echoed from the room. In Peril’s limited experience, Ruby had never looked more annoyed than she did now. “Fine, whatever.” Spears lowered, they began to push toward Peril. She blew a cloud of smoke from her nostrils. “C’mon, I don’t want to stick ya,” said the one on the left, raising her spear a few degrees.

Taking a moment to center herself, Peril turned and left. It was only when she was outside that she realized the guard had followed her out. “What, am I not allowed in the hallway either?”

The guard laughed. “No, I just wanted to apologize for the queen. She’s been under a lot of stress lately, and Scoria’s plot was a big thorn in her side. Any chance to get rid of it would excite her.”

Peril drew her wings in and huffed. “Well, as long as she’s happy.”

“I believe you, at least.” The guard moved in to pat her on the shoulder but between the scorching heat and Peril’s even-more-scorching glare she thought better of it.

“Why?”

“Well, you’re trans, right?” She nodded, and the guard continued. “So am I, I think. I never told anyone before, but my parents didn’t much care either way, and after they died it was easy to fill out the paperwork ‘incorrectly’. I’m Gannet, by the way.”

“That’s… kind of a lot to take in.”

Gannet blushed, taking a few steps back. “Sorry, I’m just… It’s exciting, you know? I didn’t think there was anyone else.”

Neither did I, come to think of it. I wonder how many others there are, deep in hiding? “Well… there are others.”

“Yeah, it’s cool! So, uh… see you later?” Gannet asked, glancing down the hallway awkwardly.

“Maybe at the coronation, if I can make it. You’re definitely gonna be there, of course.” Chuckling at her own joke, Peril took a few steps back.

“Ok, see ya then!”  Gannet turned back to the door, but waved at Peril’s tail as she stepped back through the throne room door. Peril stared after her for a second, then turned and left, still confused.

Clay was staring blankly at a scroll when she pushed through the door, making it a few steps inside before flopping down on the floor with a piteous moan. “Hi Peril!” he said, hastily setting the scroll down and moving to lay next to her “How’d the meeting go?”

She rolled over to meet his eyes, and they gave her a little warmth. “Argh, it sucked. Ruby couldn’t care less about Scoria’s plot.”

He frowned. “Wait, what? But her life is in danger!”

“Apparently it comes with the territory. That’s not even the worst part, though.”

“Oh? What was?”

She scratched her neck with a wing. “Well, I tried to mollify Ruby by telling her that I was trans, and she didn’t like that. Or rather, she really liked that, she just doesn’t care about any part of me but my nethers. As long as it makes me unable to rule, I’m a man in her eyes.”

There was no hesitation before Clay covered her with a wing, pressing tight against her and twining his tail through hers. “That’s terrible!”

Her eyes watered, but she set her jaw. “It’s annoying, is what it is. I don’t care about her opinion, but as long as she doesn’t think I’m a girl I’m not gonna get any help dealing with Scoria’s pestering. Plus, who knows what she’ll tell Cliff.” She’ll probably keep him from seeing me, since I’m so “childish”. Wouldn’t want any bad influences on the little prince.

“Even still, you deserve respect whether or not it benefits her. Maybe Starflight and I can talk to her about it, help her see the light.”

“Maybe…” There’s no way that would work . “What were you reading when I came in, anyway?” she asked, trying to change the subject.

Clay reached behind him, claws scraping on the stone as he felt around for the scroll. Eventually he got it, and brought it in front of his eyes again. “ Learning to Play the Harp with Limonite . Er, Limonite is a name, I’m not playing it with a rock. Apparently he was a famous harpist.” Shrugging, Clay set the scroll back down. “Not a very good teacher, though.”

“I didn’t know you wanted to play the harp! How long have you been trying?”

“About forty minutes. I went down to the library while you were talking to Ruby and this one jumped out to me.”

“Because of the trick you pulled with those wires, when you were locked up?”

He nodded. “The very same. I don’t think the harp is for me, though. Maybe I’ll try drums; that’s what a lot of MudWing musicians focus on, according to Limonite.”

“You do have a beautiful voice. Maybe you could be a singer. Oh, I forgot to mention something!” Peril got to her feet very quickly, sending Clay sprawling. He didn’t seem very upset about it.

“Yeah?”

“I met another trans dragon!” His ears perked up instantly. “One of Queen Ruby’s guards, Gannet! She came to me after Ruby had her kick me out, and said that she was sorry for the queen.”

“That’s a strange interaction,” he replied, prying himself off the floor and flopping onto a cushion.

“Oh, totally, but she also asked to meet me later, at the coronation. It’s exciting, right?”

A smile crossed Clay’s face. “Totally! I’d never met another trans person before you, and now another one a week afterwards? I wonder how many more of us there are?”

“We might’ve met more than than that and just not noticed. I’m pretty sure I’ve seen Gannet before, but it never crossed my mind that she was trans.” It sounded like she might’ve gone through some effort to make sure nobody found out, too, which is interesting. I guess not everyone was raised like me. In fact, no one .

Clay scratched his chin with the rough end of the scroll. “Maybe! It’d be fun to find out. But I guess that’s not very respectful of their privacy.” Clearly, he’d learned his lesson from their argument last week.

“Yeah, I think we’d all prefer to stay hidden if we could.” Peril frowned suddenly, eyes widening. “Stars, I hope Ruby doesn’t out me to everyone.” It pained her to admit it, but the thought of everyone knowing how she’d been born terrified her. Especially if Ruby were the one doing the explaining. Trying not to ignite the cushion, she sidled over towards Clay, and he leaned over to rest a wing against her.

“If it comes to that, at least we’ll know who our enemies are. And you’ll always have me.” He paused, and caught her by surprise with a small lick on the cheek. She blushed red-orange, staring intently at the floor. Is it creepy that I still really like hearing that?  “And the other dragonets of destiny, of course.”

“Yeah. At least nobody’s figured you out.”

“Nope, not a soul. Surprising that Scoria didn’t put the pieces together.”

“I don’t think you ever met, and she doesn’t seem to care about MudWings much at all.” She sighed. “This conversation just goes to all kinds of cheerful places, doesn’t it?”

“Hrmmm… say, what time is it?” Clay asked, glancing up towards the sky before realizing that they were in a windowless room.

“A few hours after noon, I think. Dinner isn’t til sunset, if that’s what you’re asking.”

He made a show of shaking his fist at the sky dramatically. “Curse you, linear passage of time!” As the sound faded, he let out a chuckle, and she laughed too. It felt like it had been days since she’d gotten up, maybe weeks. “Well then, want to go for a walk or something? There’s not much to do cooped up in here.” He stood, offering his claw to help her up.

“That sounds nice, yeah,” she replied, taking his talons in hers.

It was a long walk, but not very eventful. The palace sculpture gardens were pretty much always quiet, though today there were a few construction workers around putting up the new memorial. They managed to stay out of view of them long enough to fit in a few more licks, and one accidental innuendo that had left Peril blushing madly and Clay in stitches.

Then the sun was nearly set, a thin rain was pouring down, and it was time for dinner. Scoria, Scorch, and Anopheles were all conspicuously absent, and Peril was forced to have an actually enjoyable time. Clay got a place of honor due to his “savior of the known world” status, which meant she was rubbing shoulders--metaphorically, of course--with a number of interesting dragons. By the end of the night she’d heard more about SkyWing politics than all her time in Scarlet’s court, but most of it slipped past her. It was amusing to watch the nobles bicker, though. Ruby didn’t out her, either, which was a relief.

More important than the guests, though, was the food. Their plates had been piled high with thin-sliced bits of poultry and pork all atop a hefty slab of direbear, broiled hot and quick for a nicely scorched exterior. He even managed to get a few slices of it into her mouth without burning them to a crisp. If that had been all, it still would’ve been better than most of the meals she’d taken at Jade Mountain, but Ruby had gone all-out. Watered-down wine and full-strength spirits had flowed freely all night, mostly into Peril.

By the time they made it out of the feasting hall, there was only moonlight shining down through the palace’s central shaft. Clay was stumbling slightly as they returned to their room, and she was stumbling more, bumping her wings on lanterns and hiccuping up ribbons of flame. Okay, so I might’ve overdone it on the brandy.  Her thoughts came slowly, like dripping tar, and it was all she could do to keep focused on her lover’s tail. A warm feeling suffused her, some strange feelings she’d been keeping locked away started to bubble up. She giggled. “Hey Clay… hey Clay, your butt…”

“What?” he asked, looking back at her with concern. “What’s up with my behind?”

“It’s really nice… can I touch it?”

He stumbled, bushing redder than most SkyWings. “P- Peril! Stop it!”

She sidled up beside him, bumping her hip against his. “But it is! And it wiggles when you walk. S’cute.”

Sputtering incoherently, he nudged her away. “At least--at least wait until we’re in our room…”

“‘Kay. Oh, there it is!” She grabbed him by one talon and dragged him along towards the door. He kept glancing back as they walked, trying to figure out if it really was wiggling. They burst in through the door and she was already trying to lick him before it was closed.

“Hey! Personal space!” He pushed her back, but she could tell that he was enjoying it.

“C’mon Clay, you know you want me. Why don’t you-hic-get up on the bed and--”

Now he pulled away for real, his mouth set grimly. “That’s enough, you’ve had too much to drink. I’m going for a walk, so you have some time to sober up.”

“W-wait...” She reached out after him, but he kept heading for the door. Then his butt wiggled right out, and she was left alone. Before long, the strange heats and desires started to drain from her mind, replaced by embarrassment. Ugh, Peril, you horny dumbass. She pried herself up off the floor, rubbing her head. Well, at least we didn’t do anything regrettable. Wait, what was that sound?

She rushed to the door, trying to make it out more clearly, and realized that someone was shouting outside. Wait, no, Clay was shouting outside! “Peril--mmmphph--help!” The sounds of a scuffle came through the door too, and she rushed out into the hallway. Clay was on the ground, about twenty feet away, and two SkyWings stood over him.

The smaller one looked over and screamed immediately. The way she flapped about in panic would’ve been hilarious if it didn’t remind her of the arena so much. She turned to her partner, quite unconcerned with Clay: “Scoria didn’t say anything about--”

“Quiet, idiot! You want to draw the guards?” said the other, slamming her foreclaw down on Clay’s snout to muffle another yell. Seeing red, Peril tried to charge towards them. Her legs seemed to disagree, though, and she ended up on the ground before taking two steps. “She’s hammered, see? Practically harmless.” The number of dragons in front of her seemed to have doubled suddenly.

“Y-yeah. Just get the MudWing and let’s go!” the first one replied, proffering a set of shackles. The other rolled her eyes before taking the cuffs and snapping them onto Clay’s foreclaws. He tried to get up, snapping at her claws, but his bad leg buckled and he fell hard onto the tile. A slim blade snuck into the little one’s claw, and she prodded him with it. “D-don’t make me use this! You’re coming with us!”

Even as Peril stumbled to her feet again, he glanced at her and shook his head. “Okay, I’ll come quietly.” They began leading him down the hallway, blade still drawn. Peril followed, her drunken slalom just about keeping up with Clay’s shackled shuffle. Every time it seemed like she was gaining ground, they’d push him forward a little faster. The big one sneered at her once they made it out to the landing platform. The rain from earlier had become a wind-whipping, rain-pounding storm, but her low voice cut through it.

“Well, this has been fun.” She set one claw on Clay’s wing. “Get flying, MudWing, or I’ll break your wings myself.” He huffed and did nothing, and she tightened her grip. Thin trails of blood began to leak down from her claw tips. Finally, he relented, letting her lift her claw so he could take off. The smaller one darted into the night behind him, doing a few spirals around his bulky form just to drive home how hopeless outflying them was.

The big one’s wings bent slightly under the wind as she stretched them out, ready to take off. Peril kept moving, but the crosswind was too strong for her to make much progress. “You get the point, right? We would’ve left you a note…” She roared incoherently, leaping forward and nearly getting blown off the platform. Her opponent chuckled. “Well, Scoria will be waiting whenever you’re ready. Not sure how patient she’ll be with your little lover, though. Eh, not my problem.” The kidnapper let out another bark of laughter, then turned and took off into the night after her partner.

Peril screamed after them, trying to get into the air. Her wings couldn’t deal with the wind right now, though, and she nearly fell right off the platform. By the time she was back on her feet, all three of them had vanished into the night. For the first time in six months, she was on her own.

Chapter Text

She couldn’t go to the queen, of course. Ruby would just demand that she reveal herself; or worse, do it for her. That’d stop Scoria’s plan, but probably also ruin her life forever, even if it didn’t lead to Clay’s death. Well then, it seems like I have to play along for now. And when I find my out… she’s gonna burn. There was no way she could follow in this wind, though. She slipped back inside, not even bothering to go back to their room before curling up on the floor

Sleep didn’t come to her, but she soon slipped into a nervous stupor. Eventually the guard shift changed and someone started poking her in the side. “Peril, honey, are you okay?” they asked, giving her another prod.

Barely conscious, she looked up. “Gannet?” she mumbled, and the guard nodded, withdrawing the scorched end of her spear. “I didn’t--no, nothing’s wrong. And don’t call me ‘honey’.”

“Whatever you want, ho--Peril. Seriously, though, why are you sleeping on the floor?”

Gannet looked on awkwardly as she helped herself to her feet, shaking her head a few times to clear her mind. “I can’t tell you. Also, I don’t want to tell you.” She turned towards the platform, blinking in the morning sun, and walked away from Gannet.

“Okay, if you’re sure. We’re still on for the coronation, right?” Gannet asked, grabbing her spear again and following after Peril.

“Oh, I’m definitely going to be there.” I might be accompanied by a tyrannical usurper-queen, though. It was difficult to plaster a smile onto her face, but she managed it. “See you then.”

Gannet gave her a thumbs-up and returned the smile. The wind from Peril’s takeoff managed to make her wince slightly, and obscured any reply she might’ve offered.

Last night’s storm had mostly cleared by then, but the rocks beneath her were still dark and shiny with moisture as she flew, and thin streams of water ran down the cliffs. Scoria’s estate was shuttered up, with wooden and cloth panels covering most of the ironwork. A few workers looked up as she flew in, taking a moment’s rest from mending the broken panels.

There were two guards waiting to greet her. She didn’t recognize them under the armor,but she could swear that the first to speak sounded just like the bigger of Clay’s kidnappers. “Hello, Peril. What brings you here?” she asked, smug as anything.

“You know damn well why I’m here.” Peril’s claw’s dug into the floor.

“I’m not a NightWing, you’ll have to tell me with words.”

“Fine. I’m here to…” Kill every last one of you and get my boyfriend back! she thought, then sighed. “...talk to Scoria again.” Peril could practically feel the grin oozing out from under the guard’s helmet.

“Very good. I’ll take you right to her. Oh, and don’t try anything funny. We can’t hurt you , but others aren’t so lucky.” warned the guard, waving her along. They flew and walked deeper and deeper into the tunnels behind the estate, going too quickly for Peril to follow, until suddenly they arrived at an imposing set of iron doors. The guard knocked once and the doors swung open, revealing Scoria’s room. Huge iron braziers lined the room on either side, forming a clear approach to a dais at the far end. The traitor herself was reclined on a huge leather cushion, picking at a platter of small, live animals

“Thank you, Hallux. You can take the rest of the day off,” she said, popping a whole hare into her mouth.

The guard saluted and trotted off silently, and Peril approached Scoria.

Scoria picked up the tray and proffered it to her. “Want some? There’s nothing fresher than live prey.”

Honestly, Peril couldn’t have kept them down even if they weren’t squirming. The drunken haze of last night had devolved into a protracted siege of nausea upon her stomach. “I’m not hungry.”

“Fair enough,” Scoria replied, setting the tray back down. Next to it was a little gong, which she flicked with her claw. The sound reverberated through the room for a moment. Then a servants’ entrance clicked open and Anopheles walked in, looking very irritated.

He huffed, staring daggers at the gong. “This is degrading, General. I am a HiveWing noble, not some common butler.” Nevertheless, he took up a position next to Scoria, falling down on his haunches.

“Dear, you know we have to maintain secrecy. What’d the others say if they saw you at my shoulder every day? In any case--” Here she waved at Peril. “--our eternal flame has returned to us. Aren’t you happy?”

“I am simply ecstatic,” he buzzed, toneless as always.

Scoria rolled her eyes, then clapped. “Well, Peril, I trust you’re aware of the situation with… well, with Clay.”

Peril bared a few teeth before replying. “You mean how you had your goons kidnap him to force me into following your plans? Yeah, I’m aware.”

“Now, now, Hallux and Pipper are perfectly fine dragons, doing their tribe a great service. But… yes, they did kidnap Clay. Now, before we begin, let’s clear up some ground rules. If you inform anyone outside of this estate of my plans, disobey my orders, or stars-forbid try and hurt one of us, Clay will… pay the price.” Scoria drew a claw across her neck.

“You think killing him will make me want to work with you? You’d just be getting rid of the only thing keeping me from tearing your throat out right now.”

“Killing him? There are way worse things we can do than killing him!” She laughed, and Anopheles nodded with a smirk. “For starters, we could work on that limp of his. Getting the legs evenly scarred would make him so much more pleasing to look at, don’t you think?”

The pounding of Peril’s headache became too much to bear. Visions of Clay screaming under a torturer’s knife sprung into her mind, all too real. She crumpled to the floor, eyes wet. “Fine. Fine! I’ll do whatever you ask.”

Anopheles sneered at her. “She is telling the truth, at least for now.”

“Excellent.” Scoria’s voice was a little muffled by another still-squealing mouthful of food. “Now, we’re a little short on time, but luckily your role in this is very simple. Could you fetch the chart, dear?”

From somewhere beneath the dais, he pulled out a simplified map of the Sky Kingdom, complete with little red and yellow arrows and annotations too small to read.

Scoria began pointing to the various notes as she explained. “So, this is our complete plan to, well, take over the kingdom! As you can see,” She pointed to the yellow arrows. “Your role here is quite simple. All you have to do is show up to the coronation, mill about and such, and when the time is right issue your challenge to the queen. My soldiers and I will arrive shortly to back you up, and Scorch has already laid the groundwork for popular support of your rule.”

“W-where is Scorch, anyway? I thought you two were close,” Peril asked, still thinking about Clay.

“Oh, he’s recovering. Besides, why would I let a lackey in on the full scope of my plans?”

“‘Cause he’s your mate?”

Oddly, Scoria glanced at Anopheles before speaking again. “Pah, it was just a fling. If he still loves me that’s his problem. That does remind me of something, though.”

There was a sudden whiff of burning tar. “Are you sure she should be informed of this?” Anopheles asked.

With a slight cough, Scoria replied: “Yes, I believe it will be… motivational. Peril, just in case you were thinking of doing some sort of daring scheme where you grabbed Clay and ran off--which is impossible, by the way, my guards are very well-trained--I arranged a backup plan.”

Peril tried her best to keep her face neutral and hide the fact that she already knew. “And what sort of plan is that?”

“Oh, it’s quite ingenious. The best part is that it requires neither you nor Clay to be alive at all. Pain in the hindquarters to execute , of course, but very reliable.”

Anopheles set a paw on Scoria’s shoulder. “General…”

In an instant, she threw him to the floor with a loud clack of chitin on stone. He tried to gurgle out an apology, a claw at his throat. She stared down at him, rage flashing in her eyes. “I am in charge of this estate, not you. Remember that, lest you lose more than your dignity.” Her rage faded as she let him regain his footing. “Lesson learned? Good.”

Peril blinked. In the chaos of the past few days, she’d almost forgotten that Scoria was a warrior too. Not that it really matters, it’s just another thing to deal with .

“You’re right, though. There are better ways to motivate the princess than giving my secrets away. How would you like to see Clay instead? It’s a bit of a walk to where we’re keeping him, but I’m sure you can make it.”

“Yes!” Peril was paying close attention now.

Scoria hopped down from her cushion and left the platter behind. “Follow me, then.”

Peril let her take the lead as they passed back out into the hall, and then to the shaft. Everyone they passed saluted, even if only halfheartedly. When they reached the opening, Scoria plunged in, falling all the way down and out of the mountain before leveling off into a glide. Peril was pretty sure that that was just to intimidate her, but she kept close nonetheless.

They moved out over the valley beneath the estate, through the clouds of smoke coming up from the mines below, until Scoria dove. Their destination was a small but very sturdy building, with a large mechanism next to it which Peril could make no sense of. “This is one of our older mining shafts, number O451,” Scoria explained as they landed and began to approach the machine. “It was built atop a large vein of chasmite--er, have I explained chasmite? It burns for many days with all the heat of dragonfire, great stuff for forges and lanterns.”

So that’s where the black rocks come from.

“Unfortunately, the vein was exhausted some years ago, leaving behind a mazelike network of tunnels and chambers about half a mile belowground.” She undid a latch on the machine and they stepped into a small cage, which had barely enough space for the two of them. Peril tried very hard not to touch her. “Now I use it as a prison. There’s no way to dig out silently, and the only point of access is this elevator, which is slow and requires the help of dragons on the surface to operate. The main shaft is too narrow to fly up, see.” Scoria pointed down and Peril realized they were standing over a yawning black void, held up only by a thin grating.

Her attention was finally broken from the pit by another signal from Scoria, to a set of four MudWings harnessed to a capstan. With only a little grumbling, they got to turning the wheel, and the cage suddenly dropped. Peril yelped, cowering until she realized they’d only fallen a few inches, and were now slowly descending. “There’s nothing to be afraid of, hon. MudWings may be lazy, but the machinery won’t let us fall.”

Peril was too anxious to argue that point with her, and they descended in silence for what felt like hours. The bottom of the shaft led out into a dark tunnel, lit by lanterns spaced at long intervals. There was practically nobody around, but she saw the occasional guard on the doors they passed.

“He’s way in the back, since I didn’t want him mingling with the other prisoners. They’re mostly my workers, see, and your mate is renowned for rabblerousing.” At last, though, they were approaching the end of the mine. Here most of the tunnels had no doors at all, but at the very end there was a small built-up stretch. Three doors stood in front of them, one just a bit of wood and the others built of rock and iron. The locks were metal, though, so she could melt those given the chance. Unfortunately the guards seemed unlikely to comply.

“Pipper, report,” Scoria ordered, and Peril realized that the smaller of Clay’s kidnappers was here too. She could sense the fear in her eyes even through the overbuilt helm.

Pipper snapped off a quick salute, pressing her paw to her chest as was custom, and managed to keep her gaze on Scoria as she spoke. “General! The prisoner is behaving well--better than his counterparts, at least. He keeps demanding more food, though, and Shrike--the chef one, not our torturer--is starting to get worn out. Also, er, he got a little touchy during the physical.”

Peril winced. Hopefully he was touchy enough to keep anyone from finding out that he has a vagina.

Despite her apprehension, Scoria paid it no mind. “The other occupants are a secret , let’s keep it that way. Other than that, excellent work. I’ll send another cook down to relieve Shrike ASAP. Now, we’re here to see the prisoner.”

The tension in Pipper’s stance lessened, and she nodded. “Okay, lemme just find the key.” She began rifling through the keyring looped around her neck, and Scoria sighed. In a few moments, Pipper had found the key. It was thickly built for an equally chunky lock, which opened with a loud clunk and allowed Pipper to painstakingly pull the door aside.

Scoria brushed past her and moved into Clay’s cell. Eager to see him again, Peril bounded in after her only to skid to a stop as she realized that the cell had two levels. They stood on a ledge of rough rock about ten feet wide, which stretched around the circular room. Beneath them was a deep pit, and at the bottom of that was Clay, bound in wing-clamps and chained to a peg set in the wall.

“Peril! You’re okay!” he shouted up at her.

“ I’m okay? You’re the one who got kidnapped!” She stepped towards the pit,wondering if she could burn through the chains before Scoria could summon the guards.

“I’m familiar with firescales tricks, dear.” Scoria said, and pointed up. A large cylinder of rock was suspended near the ceiling, held in place by a system of pulleys. It was a bit wider than the pit itself. “Feel free to speak with him, but if you try anything funny I’ll be putting the lid on. Even a firescales can’t melt solid stone, and you’ll both be trapped in the dark until I deign otherwise. Oh, and I’m really not sure if air can get in there.”

The last part was barely audible to Peril, as she was already in the pit rubbing noses with Clay. “Stars, I was so worried! Have they been treating you nicely?” she asked, realizing that the question was a bit silly. He was locked in a dark pit miles underground; nice treatment was precluded.

It took a moment for Clay to reply, and he spoke carefully. “Nobody’s shouted at me or tried to bite my head off yet, so so far I’ve experienced worse. And the food’s not bad. What about you?”

“I haven’t eaten since you were taken, no. Scoria offered me some food, but I wasn’t hungry.” Speaking of, she was feeling a bit peckish now that her stomach wasn’t crammed full of anxiety. Eating would require her to disentangle herself from Clay, though, and she wasn’t ready to make that kind of commitment. “Gods, I’m so sorry for last night. I was a real asshole, wasn’t I?”

He tried to wrap a wing around her but the clamp made the action awkward. “Don’t beat  yourself on my account, Peril. I’m fine, and I’ll get out of this pit one way or another.”

Scoria peeked down from above. “You’d better not be plotting anything in there!”

Clay stared right back at her. “You are planning on releasing me, right? Once your plan is done?”

She wrinkled her brow. “Uh… yes? I’d prefer a SkyWing consort for the new queen but you’d make a passable concubine.”

“See? That’s how I’ll get out,” he replied, giving Peril a glance that said “ though if you have other options, I’d take them. ”

Scoria huffed and pulled away from the edge.

“You just want me to lay down and follow her plans?” Peril asked, keeping her voice low. “They’re planning to torture you if I don’t go along with it! Not nice people!”

His eyes widened. “Well in that case I’d really prefer you went along with it.”

“I know, but… argh, I don’t want to kill Ruby! And I’d be an awful queen!” She whipped her tail against the wall with a loud crack and an almost-equally-loud shout of pain. The rock was far less yielding than the trees had been, the last time she was stuck between two awful options.

“You would,” he mused, and she batted him playfully with her wing. There was a commotion at the top of the pit, and Pipper’s voice filtered down from above.

“Ma’am, there’s been another problem with the, er, special prisoners.”

“And?” Scoria asked. Peril couldn’t see her, but she could hear the tongue-lashing coming in Pipper’s immediate future

“Well, they need some attention from… you. You know how it is, with special prisoners .”

“I don’t know why I bother telling you anything, you’re terrible at keeping secrets.” Scoria’s head poked back out above the lip of the pit. “You two, I’ll be back in ten minutes to unlock the door. Feel free to do whatever you like, just don’t try and break out. Come on, Pipper.” With that, she stepped out, and Peril could hear the door slam shut behind her. The lock thunk ed closed a moment later.

“Well, that gives us some time to scheme at least. Or, y’know, make out.” Clay shrugged.

Stars, I wish we had time for that. “Let’s stick to scheming. Oh, but before that: did anyone see your, y’know...”

“Nethers? Nah, they didn’t search me. Just my luck that I didn’t carry my concealed dagger today,”he said, smiling.

She laughed, then sat on the floor opposite him, noting the warmth of the rock. For a moment, she tapped her claws, trying to think of a plan. “Dammit, I can’t think of anything. What’ve you got?”

“I’m not much further along. What are our options, hmm?” He rubbed his chin with one forepaw, and for a moment Peril felt like Starflight was right there in the pit with them. “Well, option one is to just lay low and wait for me to be released.” Clay held up a claw to enumerate.

If he starts talking about scrolls I’m out of here. Peril shook her head. “Somehow I doubt Scoria’s going to let you go, and even if she does I’d still have to betray Cliff and Ruby.”

“That’s… not unlikely. Option two, then:” He held up a second claw. “You break me out and together we fight our way past like fifty guards and figure out the elevator on the fly.”

“I like that plan, can we do that?”

“It’s a good one, yeah, apart from the part where one of us gets stabbed to death. At least.”

She groaned. He’s probably right. I might be able to take them all but I can’t protect him while doing it . “Okay, what’s option 3?”

His third claw went up halfway. “Honestly, I’m still working on it. How sneaky are you?”

“Is there such a thing as negatively sneaky? Because I’m that.”

“You snuck around a fair bit the last time I was locked up in the Sky Kingdom, as I recall.”

“Mostly I just hid behind you. And your friends’ antics were pretty distracting.”

“Hey, you did well.” He patted her on the neck reassuringly.

Apart from the whole “betraying them for love” thing, yeah .

“Anyway, option three requires subtlety. I don’t know how exactly you can sneak me out of here, but Scoria’s clearly got a lot going on outside of you.”

“Yeah, she does!” For the first time, a note of hope snuck into Peril’s voice as a few possibilities began to appear to her. “There’s the imprisoned workers she mentioned, and whatever Anopheles is up to--not to mention whoever those special prisoners are. They must be pretty important to be kept all the way down here.”

“Aw, thank you.” He grinned. “I think the other prisoners are our best bet, honestly. Starting a riot just makes things worse, in my experience, and Anopheles is probably not going to be swayed by threats. And they seem to be dangerous, judging by how happy Pipper was to have a ‘nice quiet MudWing’ to guard.”

“Okay then, I just need to--” Peril was cut off by the clattering of the lock from above. Quickly, she wrapped her arms around Clay again and licked his brow. “ Just go along with it ,” she said, and he leaned towards her a bit more.

Scoria strode back in, and peered down at them with disgust. “Have you been doing that the whole time?”

“Well, he started licking me first. It’s a MudWing thing.”

“Mhm. Well, time to say your goodbyes.” She held up a paw to ward off the protests. “A-a-ah! You can talk to Clay all you want after you become queen.”

“Alright then. See you soon, Peril.” He licked her back, more deeply and honestly than she had. She shivered a little despite herself.

“Soon, yeah. I...I love you.” She gave him one last squeeze and hopped out of the pit, trying to keep steady. Hopefully in one piece , she thought. Then Scoria led her out, and the door slammed shut behind them.

Chapter Text

Peril was out of it for the rest of the day. No matter how hard she tried, her mind kept wandering back to Clay. It didn't help that Scoria insisted she spend most of the afternoon practicing her formal etiquette; there was only one proclamation she needed to make but it was an important one. Throughout the lessons, and the short tour of the estate that followed, she looked for an opportunity to sneak off and return to the prison. Scoria had kept her on a tight leash, though; there was always a guard watching and the general herself was never more than a few rooms away.

There was even a guard present at dinner, standing awkwardly in the corner of the room as they ate. "Alright, let's go over the plan one more time to make sure you've got it." Scoria said. "When are we leaving?"

"The coronation starts at precisely six hours after noon, so we've got to fly out by 5 o'clock to make it in time. I'll have to be ready a bit earlier to give a speech to the troops, which you've already prepared."

Scoria nodded. The leg of boar she was gnawing on kept her quiet, but she motioned for Peril to go on.

"Once we get there, I'm to wait for the soldiers to surround the plaza and only then issue my challenge directly to Queen Ruby in the appropriate style. That way she can't just have me arrested."

"Yes, that's the most important part. You remember the official format?"

"Mhm," said Peril, and rattled off a few sentences of legalese. Most challenges weren't issued so formally, but most weren't issued by dragons that weren't heirs. "Can I eat now?" she asked, after finishing the recitation. While Scoria's plate was nearly empty, Peril had barely gotten a chance to pick at hers with all the verbal tests.

"So rude…" Scoria sighed and shook her head. "I suppose you need to keep up your strength. Go ahead." Before she could change her mind, Peril quickly swallowed a few quails and started working on her own boar. "That'll have to do, though. The sun's starting to get low and I need my beauty rest. Got to look my best while I'm overthrowing the queen."

Ugh, she's not even pretending that I'm going to be queen after this all shakes out. Not that I'd really care if she took over. It's all the other stuff that bothers me, Peril thought, swallowing another mouthful before replying. "Yeah, me too. Say, I don't think you've told me where I'm sleeping yet."

"Stars, did I? It must've slipped my mind-" she leaned in a little to confess:"Honestly, I've been flying by the claws of my wings all day, since the plan was for you to come peacefully." She tittered and Peril chuckled stiffly as she continued. "Anyway, it's one of the master bedrooms, on the same level as mine. I'll show you as soon as we're done here; the room's mostly made up already."

Well, if she's got no idea what's going on then that means she might not be as vigilant to sneakiness. Plus, if she plans to sleep in 'til dawn, that gives me eight hours to make trouble. "You remembered to give me a non-flammable bed, right?"

"Yep, had one made out of solid granite. It came out a bit small but you can cope for one night."

"Mmmhm," Peril mumbled, through another mouthful of boar. "Hey, do you think we could visit Scorch in the infirmary? I'd like to apologize for almost killing him."

Scoria groaned. "You can't go around apologizing for yourself all the time, dear. You're going to be the queen, you've got to embrace your power."

I embraced my power years ago, you smoke-breath bitch, she thought, but simply said: "So that's a no, then?"

"You can't apologize to him publicly, no. In fact, why don't you just stay out of the infirmary in general. No place for a monarch."

Now Peril really wanted to go to the infirmary, half to spite Scoria and half because she might have some secret hidden away there. Spiting her captor wasn't worth any of Clay's limbs, though. "Fine." She crammed a final bite of food into her mouth, barely even burning it, and swallowed quickly. "Let's get going, then. I'm exhausted." That was only half a lie; she'd been awake for nearly 36 hours, and it was looking like she'd be up for at least 16 more. Fun.

"Quite. Well, let's go then." Scoria clapped, and a trio of MudWing servants walked in and began clearing away their meal. Peril tried not to look at them, but they stared at her. "Just ignore them, dear. They're afraid of things they don't understand."

They're afraid of a murderer in their midst. She smiled at one of them and got little more than a huff of annoyance in return. "Alright." Peril stood, and Scoria was at her side in the next moment. "Now, where's my room?"

Peril's room was significantly less cushy than she'd expected, but still more than she was used to. Every flammable thing had been cleared away, which left the cave a bit bare, but Scoria had provided an astonishing variety of stone furniture. "Where'd you get all this stuff? I thought iron and wood was more your style," she asked, examining a red granite washing basin, and the little pot of incense next to it.

Scoria blinked. "It pays to be prepared. You never know when you might need to host a firescales."

"I'm the only firescales in the world, so I think you could make a good guess." Feeling a draft, Peril turned away from the basin. Pushing aside a jointed slate divider, she realized that the room actually had a window, carved into the rock and covered by a thin panel of mica. It was even hinged at the edge, so she could open it, and the space beyond was wide enough for a scavenger to walk through. Well, that solves getting out of here. For once being small and weedy pays off.

Luckily Scoria didn't notice her inspection of the window, since Peril's question seemed to have her off-balance. "I hate to admit it, but... I had them made for you in a fit of pique. It was years ago, back when you were still working for Queen Scarlet, and I was quite a fan of your fights. I even asked Scarlet if you could come over and visit." She blushed.

Peril forced a smile. "I guess it all worked out." Come on, let's just say "good night" and get on with it.

"Yes, it did," Scoria replied, suddenly stiff. She blinked, and relaxed a little as she pointed out the door, which was made of fine wood and iron. "I'll have a guard posted outside all night, for your information. I don't expect you two to get into a fight but I'd prefer it if you didn't kill her, should it come up. Guards are hard to replace… and so are your boyfriend's talons, come to think of it."

"Subtle," Peril replied, but she still had to hide a shiver. In the arena she'd seen a few talons torn off and the screams were somewhere between "just got stabbed, but only a little" and "burning to death from the nethers on up".

Scoria shrugged. "Whatever works. Anyway, big day tomorrow, get some sleep." She turned to leave.

"Night." Peril waved, practically shaking with impatience.

"Good night, princess. Sleep tight." Scoria stepped out, slamming the door shut behind her.

It was all Peril could do not to jump out of the window right then. She couldn't go yet, though-it was still a few minutes before sunset and she'd surely be seen. Waiting a few hours would be prudent. Also, I'm totally beat and that bed looks surprisingly comfy. Swearing to only take a short nap, she hopped up onto the stone slab. It warmed quickly under her scales, and there was a carved indentation that gave her a surprising amount of spine and wing support when she was properly curled up. It took practically no effort at all for her to drift off to sleep.

Peril came to with a start, and realized that she was someplace very different from where she'd gone to bed. She looked around, not bothering to stand up. She was in the middle of a large natural cave, though she couldn't make out most of the details. Pretty much the only things that stood out where the river running down the middle, the large boulder in front of the entrance, and her mother crouched on a precipice above her. Wait, her mother?

"Kestrel?" she murmured, confused. "Mom?"

Kestrel leaned down, too close for comfort, and Peril could feel the hot breath on her snout. "You're no child of mine," she spat, setting a claw on Peril's stomach. Somehow, impossibly, she was unburnt as her claws bit into Peril's scutes.

"M-mom! You're hurting me!" Peril tried to squirm away, but her mother's claws and gaze were like iron stakes driven into her, pinning her down. As she panicked, she felt her scales growing hotter and hotter. Smoke was pouring off of her, but Kestrel was unmoved. "Don't you recognize your own daughter?"

"I have no daughter!" Kestrel pressed harder, and a bit of blood leaked out from under her claw tips. Peril yelped, but Kestrel ignored her. "Scarlet took everything from me! Even my own son! And look what she made of you!" Tears welled up in her eyes but there was only rage in her expression.

The heat was getting more intense than Peril had ever felt. She looked down and saw flames creeping out from Kestrel's talons, flowing across her body and down into her scales. She writhed in Kestrel's pin, trying desperately to beat out the flames but only succeeding in spreading them around until all she could do was scream.

With a single fluid motion Kestrel threw her back into the river. Her skin went from searing to chilled in a single instant, and the water grew cloudy with blood. Flailing in a panic, she managed to get her head just above water, and suck in a breath, but she was sinking fast. The current was picking up, stronger than any river she'd ever been in.

Kestrel was staring down at her with disgust, and Peril reached out to her. She growled and turned away, and just before Peril went under again she saw something reflected in Kestrel's yellowed eyes. Staring back at her from the sulfurous mirrors was Queen Scarlet's face, grinning wickedly as Peril drowned.

She awoke with a shout, limbs jerking and throwing her out of the bed. Looking up, she shook her head a bit to clear the confusion and checked the window to make sure it was still dark. Dammit, why do I always have such weird dreams? Can't I have just one where something nice happens?

Hallux's voice floated in through the door, unmistakable even at this distance. "What are you doing in there? You better not be breaking General Scoria's stuff!"

"I'm fine!Just a bad dream!" she shouted back, hoping that'd placate the guard. Once a few seconds had passed silently, she rushed over to the window to check the stars. Good, Bahamat's tail is still rising. Sunrise won't be for a while yet. Unlatching the window, she checked behind her one last time, then leapt up into the frame. It was a few feet deep, and she had to wriggle through inch by inch until her wings were free.

On the other side was a sheer cliff, frosted with rime and windblown soot. It was much calmer tonight than last night, so maintaining her grip wasn't too hard, but the rocks below hardly looked inviting. It was probably the lack of sleep, but she kept seeing glints of pale reddish scales below… or maybe that was blood. When this is over, I'm gonna sleep for three days straight, she thought, and leapt down.

She caught herself ably, despite her exhaustion, and yawed over towards the mines. They were probably empty this late at night, but just in case she flew a wide arc around them, keeping to the edge of the valley where Scoria had built her would-be queendom. No guards flew up to meet her as she approached the prison, so she assumed her plan had worked.

Now she just had to figure out to get down the elevator. She landed softly next to the shaft-head building, talons crunching in the gravelly soil, and took a look around. The MudWings were gone, of course, so there was no way down there. The elevator had no hatch in the bottom for her to slip through and climb down either, but it did seem to swing a fair bit as she inspected it, since it was above the edge of the pit.

With a mighty heave, she pushed the elevator over the edge of the pit, propping it up in the dirt and leaving a five-foot gap in front of it. She hopped down in and got a grip on the rough stone inside. Hopefully nobody pushes the elevator back into place before I've gotta climb back up, she thought as she began the descent.

There were no guards at the bottom, but the lanterns were lit. The tunnel was eerily quiet as she crept down, the only sound being the echo of her own footsteps. She passed the main holding area (as noted by a sign next to the door) without incident, and kept delving deeper and deeper. Now it was very dark indeed, and she realized that the lanterns down here had been extinguished. Was someone on to her plans? No, they would've sent someone down here to stop me, she thought as she tripped over the third rock in a row.

After only a couple dozen more pratfalls, she made it to the end of the lit section of tunnel. Clay's door was right there, unguarded, but there was also light creeping through and under the wooden door to the right, and the sound of voices from inside. It seemed like there were a few guards here, though they were mostly just gossiping right now. She doubted they'd come outside anytime soon, but that still gave her a stricter deadline.

Sorry, Clay. Maybe tomorrow, when the fate of the kingdom isn't in the balance, she thought, turning to the leftmost door. It was sealed tight, but she could tell that the lanterns within were lit. She tried the handle and realized it was locked. With a sigh, she began worming her talon into the mechanism. It was like pressing into an ice-cube, the metal melting away little by little and running down in radiant streams. Eventually there was a dull thunk as the lock gave out, and she pulled the door open.

Chapter Text

"Hello? Is there anyone in here?" she asked, stepping into the room. It was almost identical to Clay's, although the floor seemed a bit more well-worn and there was a bench pushed up against one wall. She couldn't see anyone in the pit below though, but the shuffling of wings meant there definitely was someone. Who she'd probably just woken up. Her eyes darted nervously to the winch that'd cap off the pit before they spoke.

"W-huh? Who's that?" they said, in a voice which could only belong to a young dragonet. She shivered at the implication but steeled herself and peered down into the pit. There were two SkyWing dragonets down there, amidst a collection of toys and miniature furniture. One, whose scales were so dull as to be more gray than red, was staring right back at her. The other was still asleep, but barely red at all. Her scales were mostly whitish, fading to orange away from her core and with the slightest hints of red. "Do I know you?" the dragonet asked.

"Probably… not? I'm Peril, the champion from the arena." The dragonet's face showed no sign of recognition, but she ignored it. "Sorry, I'm having a bit of trouble processing. Are you supposed to be in this cell?"

"I mean, Scoria put us in here, so…" The dragonet shrugged. "You can come down if you want, I don't care."

Peril hopped down, keeping her distance from the strange looking dragonets but examining them as closely as she could nonetheless. So they're her backup plan? How's that gonna work? "Why's she keeping you two in here? Surely you're not that dangerous."

The dragonet frowned and cocked her head. "Hmm. Okay, can you hold still for a sec? I want to show you something."

Unsure, Peril obliged, and she held still while the dragonet advanced until she was only a few feet away. Alarmed, Peril held out a claw warningly. "Don't get any closer, kay? I'm not exactly-hey!" she yipped, as the dragonet darted in towards her. She threw herself to the side with a grunt, but the pressure of a claw on her side was unmistakable, and she shrank back, wincing. Weirdly, though, she heard no screams, only an excited gasp, and her scales felt a bit chilly in that spot.

She pried her eyes open to see the dragonet quite unburnt, but staring with wonderment at her left claw, which was suddenly very red indeed, glowing like a hot coal. "Woah… you're a firescales!" the dragonet shouted, and in the corner her sister perked up. "That's so cool! I thought Flare was the only one!"

"Wait, who's Flare? Why can you touch me!?" Peril shouted, confused.

The other dragonet raised her head, revealing striking blue eyes the same shade as Peril's. "Mmmh?" she murmured, taking in the two of them. "Flint, what are you doing?"

"Oh, sorry, I was so excited I forgot to tell you our names." The dragonet giggled, embarrassed. "Peril, this is Flare, my sister. Flare, this is Peril, another firescales. And uh, I'm Flint. I've got… the opposite of firescales. Ice-scales?"

"I think we settled on smotherscales." Flare yawned, picking herself up from the corner. Peril could see that her wings were unbound, unlike Flint's. "Hi, I'm Flare. Did Scoria finally find someone actually competent to guard us?" she asked, examining Peril with a critical eye.

Peril blinked. "Um… I'm actually not really with her. Like, she's bossing me around right now, but only because… it's a long story."

"Cool."

Flint laughed again, though it felt much more forced. "Flare's just kidding around, right? We're free to leave anytime we want."

That certainly wasn't the story Scoria had given her. "Then why are you staying down here? I mean, Flare could just go, not like anyone can stop a firescales. And I speak from experience on that one."

"And leave my sister behind to be part of Scoria's evil plans? Not in a million years." A note of steel snuck through the sleepiness in Flare's voice, just for a moment. She stumbled over to Flint. "Ugh, can you cool me off? I'm all flamey right now and it's messing with my mood."

Nodding, Flint flexed her talons a bit, and cracked her knuckles. "Hey Peril, check this out," she said, and then wrapped her forelegs around Flare. Like ink in a stream, the whiteness seemed to flow out of Flare's scales and into Flint's, creeping down her arms in glowing rivulets that pooled on her chest and spread out until they were both perfectly balanced, looking for all the world like normal SkyWings. "Pretty cool, right? And now Flare can't burn anyone for a few hours."

The concept hit Peril so hard she had to sit down. Woah, they can just… neutralize each other like that? But then, they can lead normal lives as long as they stick together. And I could've too, if not for Scarlet. In contrast to Flare's cooling, she suddenly felt very hot indeed, and her talons began to dig into the rocky floor.

"Uh, sis? I think you broke Peril." Flare joked, elbowing Flint. Flint just stared at her, looking mortified.

Focus, Peril. Your brother is dead, but Clay isn't just yet. She squeezed her eyes shut for a moment, and a few tears dripped from each. Then, with a sigh, she looked back to them. "Sorry, I… lost my brother a long time ago. We never knew each other."

"Wait, your brother? But firescales are identical twins." Flare pointed out.

"Stars, you're smarter than I expected. Yeah, I was born with male anatomy but I'm way more comfortable living as a girl. I'm, er, transgender." She smiled, trying to disguise her terror.

"Oh, that makes sense." Flint said, finally recovering from her daze.

"Anyway, none of that's why I'm here. At least, not directly. Do you know why Scoria's keeping you here?"

"She's not keeping us, we're here for our own protection! Ruby wants us dead!" protested Flint, flapping her wings angrily.

Cradling her head in one talon, Flare sighed. "Come on, Flint. Even you can feel the clips on your wings. Mom doesn't want us leaving, and she's willing to use us against each other to do it." Flint turned her nose up at her argument, but Peril couldn't keep focused on her with the question burning in her mind.

"Wait, Scoria is-"

"Our mother? Unfortunately. I always liked Dad more. He didn't lock us up, or tell me how good at murder I'd be when I grew up," replied Flare, with a shiver.

You think you had it bad? Try being raised by Queen Scarlet. Still, that sort of explains where she found these two. What a piece of work, though. "And who's your dad?"

"Scorch, obviously. He's the only dragon Scoria ever made an egg with."

Peril huffed. How was she supposed to know that? "She's got a HiveWing boyfriend now, I think."

"I... don't like that," Flare replied haltingly.

"Join the club. Does Scorch know you're down here?" I hope not. He seemed like a stand-up guy, if a bit irritating.

"Scorch is too close to Ruby, because of his job as a royal scribe. He can't be trusted to know where we are." Flint said, as if repeating a rehearsed speech. Flare rolled her eyes.

Okay, I think I'm starting to put it together. Peril plopped her rear down on the floor, trying to think clearly. So Scoria's keeping these two without their father or Ruby's knowledge, and they're her backup plan. Given what she said about me, it's clear that she likes firescales a lot… and what could be a more powerful message than a mere dragonet killing the queen? Flare could do it, despite her complaints, and Scoria could make her.

"Flint, Flare, I think I can get you two out of here," she lied. "But I still need some time to figure things out, and I have my own loved one to keep safe from Scoria's tricks." They nodded. "I… Flare, I'm so sorry." Why were her eyes wet?

"For what?"

For you being exactly where I was, eight years ago. For the dragon you might just end up being. For… me. "I'm sorry that your mother is so unrepentantly awful, to keep you here. I know how it feels to be raised for killing."

Flare stared up at her, and Peril realized just how much bigger she was than the tiny firescales. "Uh, okay?"

Peril stretched out a wing to envelop Flare, but stopped. You barely just met her, you sentimental weirdo. Instead, she just patted Flare on the back and held back her tears. It felt… surprisingly warm. Was this what normal dragons felt when they touched each other? Someone else rubbed up against her leg and she tensed, before realizing it was Flint.

"Don't worry, I'm sure it'll be okay," said the smotherscales, nuzzling Peril's leg.

She frowned but didn't pull away. "You have no idea what I'm upset about."

Flint looked up. "You're upset because you think we're trapped here like Scarlet used to keep you trapped. But, we're not trapped, so it's all okay!"

Flare growled at her. "Stop saying that. You're stuck down here and there's-there's nothing I can do about it!" It was the dragonet's turn to be on the verge of tears.

We're just a bunch of basket-cases, aren't we? Peril wondered. "You'll be out of there by tomorrow, one way or another," she assured, and reached down to wrap Flare in her wings. The dragonet's sobs abated, but she still wriggled a bit before snuggling down into the leathery embrace. They stayed like that for a few minutes, trying to take some reassurance from each other like Flint took the fire from their scales.

At last, Peril let up. Flare grumbled a little as Peril put her down. "Sorry, but I really do need to go if I want to make good on my promise."

"Alright. See you… see you tomorrow!" Flare replied, cautiously optimistic.

"Yeah, and then we can all go to the coronation!" Flint added, and Peril's heart dropped a few centimeters.

Trying to hide her disappointment, she leapt up to the side of the pit and scrambled over the edge. "Bye for now," she said, and took off. There were no more guards than there had been coming in, luckily, so she had some time to think.

Well, that was kind of a bust. Flint and Flare are lovely, but two dragonets are not going to solve the current problem. Urgh, I wish this whole "adventure" thing required less thinking. She huffed, rubbing her nose and trying not to run into the same rocks as before. Okay, focus. What have I learned. Well, Scoria's backup plan is unlikely to succeed, but it might end up with Flint or Flare getting… hurt. And she's not going to listen to reason, if she'd lock her own kids up. Neither is Anopheles, since he knows about this already. That said, though...

A flicker of torchlight appeared in the hallway ahead, and she ducked into a nearby crevice. The sentry passed by without seeing a thing, and she took a moment to catch her breath before going on. Scorch may just be willing to listen. If Scoria didn't tell him about this, I doubt he'd approve now. And maybe he could… well, he's no good in a fight, but he is Scoria's personal assistant. A bit of deception on his part and Clay could walk free-along with Flint and Flare. Hey, that was easier than I expected!

Her train of thought was interrupted again as she got to the lift. It was lowered now, and climbing up the framework and into the tunnel above took all of her concentration. At least there was no light shining down from above-the sentry must've been working alone. There's just one small problem, she thought, swinging from one clawhold to another. I have about ten hours to find Scorch, convince him I'm telling the truth, and get him to release Clay.

When she reached the top of the shaft, some of the MudWings standing around the capstan looked over. Luckily, apart from the lantern on the capstan there was no light to speak of, so they didn't recognize her. She took off quickly, winging back towards the estate and hoping that dawn was still a ways off. There was still nobody paying attention to the side of the ridge where her room's window came out, and she managed to slip in with a minimum of fuss. The only noise was when she slipped on the windowsill, and fell down into her room. Stumbling to her feet, she winced at the sound.

"Princess? What's going on in there?" Hallux asked sleepily.

"Just, uh, knocked over a chair. You know how it is."

That excuse apparently wasn't convincing enough, judging by the rustling at the door. She managed to get the window-cover closed just in time, and peeked out from behind the screen to see Hallux walk in. She took in the room, eyes lingering on the empty bed, then looked back at Peril. "Why are you still up at this hour, anyway?"

Peril tensed. She couldn't be found out now, or somebody was losing a toe. "I, uh-insomnia! I'm just stressed, y'know? Big day tomorrow," she replied.

"I'll drink to that. Still, you better get your beauty sleep, if you want to take down Ruby." Hallux retreated back through the door, and Peril let out a breath.

Once she was sure Hallux was back at her post, Peril returned to her bed, laying down on it but not yet curling up to sleep. She had yet more thinking to do. Decision time. I could try and find Scorch right now, or wait until morning. The more time I have to convince him, the better, but it also increases the risk of being found out. She yawned involuntarily, and found her eyelids beginning to droop. Okay, sleep is pretty appealing. Hopefully I don't have any more nightmares… and I wake up early enough to execute this scheme. That was a bit of a worry, but it wasn't enough to stop her from curling up on the molded stone and draping a wing over herself to act as a blanket. Sleep took her in a matter of moments after that.

Blinking herself awake, Peril had a moment of panic until she checked the window and saw that the light shining in was still the dull orange of sunrise. She bolted out of bed, and made for the door. There wasn't even time to be surprised that it was unlocked as she burst through. Luckily, nobody was waiting on the other side. After a moment, Hallux looked up from a nearby bench where she'd been asleep. "Mornin'," she mumbled.

"Yeah, it is. Hey, do you know where Scorch's room is? I, uh, want to apologize for burning him." she asked. Trusting Clay's captor was probably a bad idea, but they were ostensibly on the same side now.

"No. Why would I know that?" she replied, climbing down from her bench and grumbling.

"Because you work here?" Peril replied, puffing smoke from her nostrils.

"Doesn't mean I have to be your personal tour guide."

Oh, so she does know where he is and just won't tell me because she's an asshole. I see. "Actually, it does. I'm the princess; what would Scoria say if she found out that I was wandering about unguarded?" Peril stepped forward a bit, making to leave.

Before she got more than a few feet, Hallux cut her off. A shortsword slipped out of her sheath with a chilling hiss. "That's not gonna happen because I'm not letting you go."

"Who said anything about letting me?" Peril asked, poking the tip of the sword with her claw. It took only a moment to heat to a reddish glow, allowing her to push her claw deeper into the steel until there was a V-shaped gash going halfway down the blade. At last, she pulled her claw free and smirked at Hallux.

Hallux gulped and silently sheathed the ruined blade. "...fine. I'll take you there. But Scoria's gonna hear about this."

"I look forward to it." she said, and let Hallux take the lead.

In contrast to the upper areas of the estate, the infirmary was pretty spartan. To hear Hallux tell it, they mostly served MudWing workers from the mines below, which explained the lack of decoration. For the most part, there were just rows of beds, a few of which had wooden dividers between them for privacy. A few MudWings tended to their brethren, but as she and Hallux entered none of them bothered to ask their business.

"Scorch is down at the end. Go say sorry or whatever." Hallux said, waving her along.

Well, at least she's letting me speak to him alone. Peril thought, as she moved down the rows. The nurses pulled back between the beds as she passed, cautious, and she saw a few patients look up. Most of them were covered in enough drapes that she couldn't see their wounds, but a few had burns or open gashes on their faces. It was grisly, but she was used to gore at this point. The flickers of glowing orange inside the wounds confused her for a moment, until she realised that it must've been chasmite dust, still burning hours or days after they'd been injured. That was enough to make her wince.

Scorch was indeed at the end of the room, and while there was no nurse tending to him he looked pretty healthy. The thick layer of gauze on his neck was the only sign of his grievous wound that was visible above his blanket. "Oh, uh, hi Peril," he stammered as she walked up. He didn't seem mad, to her surprise, mostly just confused.

"... hello, Scorch," she replied, scratching her neck with a wing. "Sorry about…"

"Burning me? It's not your fault, really. I got in your way." His bandages tightened as he tried to shrug, and he winced. There was a small cup of some sort of medicine on a table next to his bed, and he took a little sip before relaxing.

Ok, this guy's definitely crazy. Then again, he never locked up any of his own dragonets. "Well, I hope you feel better soon. There was something else I wanted to talk about, though."

"Yeah?"

"I, um, found out about your kids," she said, trying to find a tactful way to lead in to her point. "Where they are, specifically."

He suddenly straightened, and though he grimaced with pain the expression on his face was focused. "What!?" he asked, and one of the nurses glanced over. That was enough to make him quiet down a bit. "You know where Ruby's keeping them? How'd you find out?"

"Well, it's not exactly… hang on, where do you think they are right now?"

"Wh-Didn't Scoria tell you?" Peril shook her head. "Guess she had her reasons. I'll tell you, though: they're…" he choked up for a moment, claws digging into the bedding. "They were staying with Scoria when Queen Ruby's guard arrived and threw them in the dungeons, because she doesn't believe firescales should walk free. Says you're too dangerous… oh shit, I shouldn't have told you they were firescales."

"Nah, I knew that. Explains why you're so fond of me though."

Another few drops of medicine vanished down his throat before he replied. "Oh no, I was a big fan of you even before that. You, uh, helped remind me that it's not size that matters. It might be hard to believe but I got bullied a lot for my size when I was a kid." Frowning, he gestured down at himself, and Peril resisted the urge to tease him.

"Ah… well, that's nice to know. As far as your kids, though… well, Scoria may have been a little selective with what she told you. Actually, she just straight up lied to convince you to help her." He tensed, and she raised a claw in warning. "Shh! Don't freak out or I can't help you get to them."

Sucking in a breath through his nose, he took a larger gulp of medicine. "Fine. What really happened? And for that matter, why should I believe you?"

"Your dragonets are named Flint and Flare. Flint has grayish-red scales and is perpetually upbeat; Flare is orangey-pink and a real wet blanket, if wet blankets could set things on fire by touching them. That enough evidence that I've met them?"

At that moment, his eyes were wider than most of his scales. "Yeah, that'll… that'll do. Where are they? What-what did Scoria do?" He leaned forward as if to grab her, but managed to restrain himself.

"Well, they are in a prison. Just not Ruby's prison." She paused, frowning. How do I avoid just throwing this news in his lap like a burning dragonflame cactus?

"Where. Are. They?" he asked, and for the first time she saw genuine anger in his eyes.

"Scoria's keeping them in Shaft O451. The, uh, prison one."

Peril was forced to nearly throw herself backwards as Scorch rolled out of the bed, landing on all fours with a grunt of pain but quickly straightening. "Out of my way. I'm going to get my kids back," he growled.

"Woah, woah. Let's not be overly hasty."

"Hasty!? I haven't seen my kids in three months! I wasn't even sure if they were alive! I'm going to that mine right this instant." He took a step forward, stumbled, and nearly fell.

"You're in no condition to go breaking anyone out of prison," she said, resisting the urge to prop him up. Instead she settled for just handing him the cup of medicine, which he finished in a single gulp. "Just hang on a minute. I've got a plan…"

Chapter Text

They'd managed to make it most of the way to the prison before Scorch's groaning grew loud enough that Peril forced him to land. As they landed on a rubble pile about half a mile from the shaft, he grumbled with impatience. "I can-agh-keep going, Peril. Don't slow us down on my account."

She shook her head. "You're going to hurt yourself if you keep pushing it, and I don't want that on my chest. Besides, the plan doesn't need you to be there right this instant, you have a few hours to rest." I'd love to charge in too, but it seems like more and more people are relying on my discretion.

"What is the plan, anyway? All you've said is that I won't need to fight anyone, not that I mind that part." he asked, looking over his shoulder as he carefully descended the pile.

"Your part in it is pretty simple. The hard part is mine to deal with." She followed him down despite herself, slipping on some of the smaller debris and flapping about to keep from falling. A few of the MudWings nearby gave her odd looks. "All you need to do is go down into the prison shaft and tell them that Scoria has given the order to release Clay and your kids-they're in the special holding cells at the extreme rear of the mine."

"How's that going to work? They'll just send a messenger to Scoria to make sure I'm telling the truth."

"Not if she's miles away, at the coronation."

"Well… they'd probably still try, honestly. I've waited around for Scoria's approval plenty of times before," he said, and grinned.

"I don't want to know what that means. Anyway, just say it's urgent and you'll bring them back if scoria countermands it. Be pushy, you outrank them. Sorta."

"That works, yeah… until the messenger gets back from Scoria."

Peril sighed. This part of her plan was her least favorite. "A messenger can't get alternate orders from Scoria if she's imprisoned… or dead."

Scorch stopped suddenly, sending down showers of scree in front of him. "Hang on. You're going to…"

"Only if it comes to that!" she clarified, but Scorch still fixed her with a disapproving stare. "Come on, she was horrible to you! She locked your kids in the bottom of a mine so she could use them to take over the kingdom!"

"I…yeah, you're right." The look of resignation on his face was enough to deaden even Peril's righteous anger. He has a point… I'd never let someone kill Clay, even if he were evil.

"Look, I'll do my best to make sure she's just thrown in one of Ruby's prisons. But in the end, it might come down to your mate or your dragonets. Just so you know."

"Alright." He said, and continued down the hill. His path was a bit wobblier than hers. "You know, I'm wishing I hadn't drunk that entire cup of medicine now. The dizziness lasts longer than the numbing,"

"Wait, you were moaning that much while sedated?" she jabbed, hoping to lighten the mood.

"Yeah, it actually really hurts. Like, a lot. But hey, I'm the first dragon to survive getting burned by you… without magical intervention. That's pretty cool!"

"Sure is. Anyway, Scoria is probably going to start wondering where I am, so I have to go. You're clear on the plan?" she asked, flaring her wings.

Scorch nodded, his expression returning to a grim set. "I've got it. Not sure it'll work, but I'm trusting you."

"For Flint and Flare, yeah?" she guessed.

"Mhm."

"Good luck, Scorch." He turned away, continuing towards the mine, and she took off. There was no need to avoid the sentries now, and she made good time getting back to the estate. There was quite a bustle, with soldiers preparing to depart for the palace, but none of them got in her way as she headed into the mountain and towards her room.

That is, until Scoria stopped her in the hallway outside, flanked by Anopheles and Hallux. She didn't seem very angry, at least. "Ah, Princess. You're finally back."

"Uh…" Peril considered just killing her now. At least she'd have some revenge, if her main plan was defeated.

"She is nervous, and considering an attack on you. Perhaps you should clarify, General," Anopheles interjected, before Scoria could respond.

"J-just jitters, Scoria. I didn't expect to see you here."

Scoria pushed Anopheles aside and stepped forward. She was decked out in ornate armor and equipment, including a knife hanging from her belt that seemed to be made of glass, as dark and oily as the look she gave Peril. "Well, I did expect to see you here, since I put a guard here to keep you. What exactly were you doing?"

Her eyes darted to Anopheles. Lying was out of the question, then. "I was visiting Scorch in the hospital."

"After that, then. Did you decide to go on a pleasure flight with him too?" Scoria didn't seem jealous of the idea that someone else was flying around with her mate as much as she did dismissive.

"Something like that. I thought I had plenty of time before the attack." Peril took a step back, despite herself.

"Luckily, you do. You still have four hours; I was just coming to get you because there was a report of a break-in in Shaft O451 last night."

The air around Peril was suddenly colder than usual. "Was anyone hurt?" she asked. As long as I don't actually state anything, I can't be caught in a lie.

"No. Only a bit of damage to a lock, and a few disturbed prisoners. Whoever it was didn't even bother to break them out."

With a whiff of citrus, Anopheles butted in. "Ma'am, all evidence points to Peril as our culprit."

Scoria shook her head. "She would never dare, dear. Not while Clay is still in chains. And besides, don't you think she'd have tried to break him out, instead of… someone she doesn't know."

"I would definitely do that, if I broke into the prison." Wouldn't've done it last night but…

"See? Innocent," insisted Scoria. Anopheles didn't look convinced, but he remained silent. "Now, Peril, let's have a bite to eat and then we can go over the plans. Oh, and maybe give you a bit of a freshening up. When was the last time you bathed, hon?" she asked, sniffing at Peril's neck.

Shivering, Peril drew away. "Um, never? The water, it boils away when I…"

"I see." Scoria shrugged. "Well, at very least we can get your horns and claws filed, maybe a splash of perfume. You smell like a hospital, dear."

"Okay, let's do that." At least it'd be a distraction. Anopheles was on to her plans, but as long as Scoria wasn't listening to him she was safe.

Over the next few hours she threw herself at Scoria's mercy, following every whim and completing every meaningless request. Fortunately, those were mostly related to the kind of preening that royals found essential. The estate had a bath just large enough that it could tolerate Peril's heat with only a little loss of water. Thus, her first real bath left her freezing cold and uncomfortably moist, even after spending the next hour turning every room she was in into a sauna as the wetness on her scales boiled away.

That only made the other tribulations take longer, though at least getting a pedicure was far less uncomfortable than being doused in some flowery water. By the end of it she almost liked how her horns looked, filed as they were to sharp feminine points. And her claws had never been sharper-or painted any redder, for that matter.

She was careful not to chip the polish as they ate a small, sombre lunch. Scoria continued quizzing her over the details of the plan, and Peril continued answering. No need to inform the general that the only reason she had such a good memory was that her subterfuge relied on it. That detail kept the food from sitting comfortably in her gut.

Finally, they were ready to fly. She and Scoria headed down to the landing platform together, striding out side by side between the rows of waiting troops. Scoria looked far more regal, dressed up as she was, but all eyes were on Peril. The expressions of the soldiers ranged from bored to curious to adoring, which was still an unfamiliar one for her. Scorch must not have been an isolated case among Scoria's goons.

Once they reached the edge of the platform, Scoria held up a claw, motioning for her to stop. They turned and faced the assembled soldiers, who had closed ranks behind them. There must have been at least two hundred dragons in front of Peril, maybe twice that. She'd never seen so many warriors in one place, at least while they were still alive. While she was taking in the size of Scoria's force, the general cleared her throat and a hush fell over the crowd.

"My fellow SkyWings, I come bearing the grim truth. Our tribe has fallen far in the past years. Our throne has been usurped by a false-faced queen too weak to destroy her enemies alone. Defects and degenerates walk freely in our streets, while our finest dragonets and veteran soldiers are taken to distant lands and taught, no, brainwashed into believing that any other tribe could be our equal. And, as the weaker tribes clamor for dominance, our name and the name of our greatest queen is dragged through the mud!" Her voice carried over the crowd, echoing from the rocks behind her and booming down into the valley below. Peril noticed a few of the workers looking up.

"But I do not need to tell you this. You already know the indignities we have suffered! You already know why you have joined me in our mission! You already know what must be done! Even now, the coward queen awaits her crown in the gardens of her stolen palace! There they will speak of morality, of the right to rule, but they forget where the right to rule comes from! The only virtue a SkyWing must embody; power!" She flared her wings, staining the sunlight red, and the assembled soldiers roared in agreement.

At a signal from Scoria, Peril stepped forward. "But we will show them the righteous path-we will show them true strength! Scarlet's daughters are all dead or craven, but there is another. Peril, an heir not by birthright but by upbringing; an eternal flame to carry forward the SkyWing tribe into unending prosperity!" The crowd cheered, staring up at her with hungry eyes. She stared right back, keeping her posture straight and her gaze firey. "Today we fly forth, and challenge the queen! Go, my soldiers! For the destiny of all SkyWings!" Scoria roared, and at her word the army took flight with a thunder of flapping wings.

They leapt into the air as well, and Peril struggled to keep on course. The wake of the kettle of SkyWings in front of her pulled her forward without even the need to flap. She tumbled in the tumult for what felt like hours, only managing to keep track of Scoria, until suddenly the swarm began to break apart. As they spread out, she saw the palace below, with the royal gardens resting on a high platform above the prison spires and the hospital. By the time she landed just off to one side of the gardens, only Scoria and a few guards were beside her.

"Alright, Peril. Go mingle, lay low, whatever. Just wait for my signal," Scoria instructed, but Peril was already gone.

The gardens were even more beautiful than she remembered. Every hedge and tree was bedecked in fine copper threads, and banners with Queen Ruby's heraldry hung from the lampposts. The middle of the garden had been cleared away to form a wide open area, where hundreds of dragons were eating and making merry. The queen was nowhere to be seen, but her throne was set up on a stage at one end of the area, along with Prince Vermillion. "Doesn't he look itchy?" someone said, just to her left.

"Huh?" Peril replied, looking over to see Gannet emerging from between two hedges, a couple of cups in hand. She set one down at Peril's feet, and Peril picked it up, sniffing its contents curiously before replying. "Oh! Hi Gannet. You found me pretty fast."

"Wasn't particularly hard, when you flew in with such a large party. Where'd they all go, anyway?" Gannet asked, peering around.

Peril took a sip from her cup and discovered it was full of a slightly spicy mead. "I'm not sure. Anyway, what was that about the prince?" she asked. Anything to distract from her grim agenda for this party.

"Oh, he looks really uncomfortable in that priest getup. You'd think we were at a funeral."

"Yeah." She saw one of Scoria's soldiers landing behind a nearby rock outcrop, and quickly looked around, taking stock of the royal guard's numbers. They were hopelessly outnumbered, even if this were a fair fight. And as long as she was around, it wasn't.

"You look nervous. What's up?" asked Gannet, leading her towards the middle of the party.

Should I tell her now? Not like I have much to lose, at this point. Or maybe I have everything to lose. "I, uh… I'm just in a really tricky situation right now."

"A Scoria-related situation?" Gannet asked, and Peril froze.

"How do you know about her?" She asked, in a frantic whisper. She got a few odd looks from the SkyWings crowding around, but nobody was stupid enough to get close to her, so she had some privacy.

"Uh, the queen's been whining about you two for the past two days. I had to ask for a different shift, honestly, because she was saying some really mean stuff about you and it bummed me out." Gannet scratched her neck.

No bets as to what kind of thing she was saying. I wonder if… oh no. "Do you think Cliff heard any of it?" she asked, with an urgent edge to her voice.

Gannet shook her head. "No, never around Cliff. That's one of her rules; no politics around the prince. I think she saw the paintings he was doing of you and got a little spooked. He's not even here today, as a matter of fact."

"Yeah, they'd do that." Peril couldn't help but smile a little. At least someone she cared about was being kept away from all this. "How much do you know, though?" Probably not enough, or else you wouldn't be here.

"Not much more than that it involves you two and some kind of treason. I assumed Scoria was blackmailing you, though." Gannet set her empty cup down on a nearby waiter's tray and exchanged it for a couple of roasted guinea pigs, one of which she handed to Peril.

Peril took a large bite before replying. "She's… got Clay. And a few other dragons who I barely knew beforehand but they're just dragonets, and I can't let her hurt them either."

Gannet whispered something unprintable and gripped her pig's skewer a little tighter. "What's she trying to do? Make you do, whatever."

Feeling the gaze of a couple of guests, Peril leaned in as close as she felt was safe. "She wants me challenge Ruby for the throne. In a few minutes, she's gonna give some kind of signal and then…"

"Then things get a little crazy?" Gannet ventured. "I can't imagine you'd actually…"

"No, no. I wouldn't, and Ruby knows that. But I needed to get Scoria away from her estate, and keep her away, so my ally could get Clay out of the prison. Which means that this plan has to work at least partially, or Clay dies."

"Oh… Well, it sounds like you have this under control, at least. Tell me if you need any help, though."

Stars, I wish. Peril swallowed the rest of her guinea pig, taking a moment to savor the salt and fat. All of the food at Scoria's estate was under seasoned; probably some kind of ideological thing to oppose 'decadence'. Nevermind that roast chicken tasted terrible unsalted. "I hope so. Could you just stay out of the way until this is over?"

Gannet blinked. "You don't have to worry about me, I can take care of myself."

"I know, but she's got an army, and if I'm going to be doing any fighting I wouldn't want you to get in the way. There's enough blood on my claws."

"I'm sworn to protect the queen and her people, but I appreciate the thought. Hey, maybe after this all blows over we can meet again," she replied, seeming a little flustered at Peril's consideration of her.

"You'd probably have to visit at Jade Mountain, unless Ruby is fond of third chances." The crowd around them shifted a bit as more of Scoria's soldiers began to descend, but there was no panic. Their weapons were still sheathed, so for now they were just unusually well-armed guests.

"We'll see," replied Gannet, following Peril's gaze. She looked over the masses of soldiers coming in from the edges of the garden, and frowned. "Not very subtle, are they?"

"Scoria's all about 'strength'. Why do you think she likes me so much?"

"Your good looks?"

"Yeah, right."

Suddenly, the crowd fell silent as Scoria appeared, flying in opposite the stage. She was flanked by Hallux, and locked eyes with Peril as she slammed down into the grass and strode toward the stage. "Where is the false queen?" she roared.

A few members of Ruby's royal guard stepped out of the crowd, standing in her path. "General, you stand accused of treason. Fly away now or we will be forced to-" That was all the leader managed to say before Scoria slammed into her. Their wings buffeted against each other, until Scoria managed to get her claws on the guard's neck. There was a sharp crack, and Peril gasped until she realized that the guard had just been slammed facefirst into a flagstone paver. Still, they weren't getting up anytime soon.

"Would anyone else like to threaten me?" the general asked, drawing the knife from her belt. A few dragons in the crowd screamed, and others took to the air or started to run. They didn't make it far before her soldiers herded them back into the gardens at spearpoint. "I ask you again: Where is the queen?"

Peril bowed her head as Scoria finally made her way through the crowd and joined up with her. Gannet had disappeared into the mass of panicking dragons, and without her armor she was just another face in the crowd. "Did you have to knock her out so forcefully?" Peril asked, gesturing to the guard. A few members of the crowd had dragged her away from the action, and someone was calling for the smelling salts.

"This is war, dear. There's no time for niceties," said Scoria, rolling her eyes. Despite her anger, her claws were tapping impatiently, and she kept glancing at the stage. Ruby still hadn't appeared, and Peril suspected that the whole plan would go down the drain if the queen just ran.

"What do we do if she doesn't show up?" she asked, hoping the answer wasn't 'go home and check on the prisoners'.

Still staring at the stage, Scoria replied: "We wait until she does, and try to keep the crowd contained." There was no pretense of formality in her voice, just disciplined patience. "Actually, that gives me an idea. Wait here." Grunting, she took off and rose to hover above the crowd, high enough that her voice would carry to the edges of the garden. "Do you see, SkyWings? Your queen is a coward! She cannot even protect her own people!"

One of the older dragons in attendance shouted back. "Better to be left alone by Ruby than attacked by you!" The crowd murmured in agreement, and Scoria growled in annoyance.

"Hallux!" she shouted, and her lieutenant snapped to attention. "See that complainer, down there?" Scoria pointed down. The crowd instantly parted around the dragon who'd spoken out, as if he'd developed a severe case of scalerot. Now that she could see him clearly, peril realized that he was a MudWing, though too bedecked in treasure to be a mine worker. "Break his leg."she ordered, and the MudWing quailed.

"Which one?" Hallux asked.

Scoria rubbed her brow, and the tension faded a bit. "Does it matter, Hallux?" She sighed. "Just pick one. We're making an example of him."

"Alright." She leapt towards the MudWing, making a graceful arc over the crowd but keeping lower than Scoria. He quailed as she approached; despite his age Hallux was still a head taller than him, and there was no mercy in her eyes. As he tried to slip into the crowd and escape, a few more soldiers pushed through, holding spears to his back. His defensive growls turned into panicked screams as she wrapped her talons around his front leg. The crowd turned their heads, but Peril held her gaze as Hallux broke the bone with a woody snap.

The MudWing squealed as Hallux released him, holding his forelimb close as he crumpled to the pavement. "Oh, shut up. It's a clean break, you'll be fine." Scoria chided. "Scarlet would've done far worse to you; it's not even bleed-" She was cut off by another roar from somewhere behind the stage, and the thunder of a running SkyWing on wooden decking. "Ah, there's the queen. So nice of you to show up."

Ruby burst through the curtains, the fabric tearing as her wing-claws raked over it. There was rage written all over her face, more than Peril had thought she could show with her earring on. Nevertheless, there it was. "Scoria! Stop this now, or I'll show you just how little of a coward I am!"

"Oh, don't show me." Scoria nodded to Peril.

She gulped, realizing that the guards had cleared a path between her and the stage beforehand. As she locked eyes with the queen, she tried to mouth an apology. Then it was time for the plan to go into action. "Queen Ruby, I-I challenge you for the throne of the Sky Kingdom!" she shouted, stumbling slightly at the sheer audacity of the words.

The queen raised a single eye-ridge. "You have no right to challenge me, Peril."

"By right of Soror Avitas, any dragonet raised by the queen has a claim; after those laid by her. And you, Ruby, were not laid by Queen Scarlet. You weren't laid at all!" She tried to capture the same sense of righteous indignation as Scoria as she spoke, but Peril suspected that she just sounded nervous.

"Avitas or not, you cannot challenge me. After all, Peril, you're a male!" she shouted.

Chapter Text

Peril had always been cold, proportionally speaking. Her body was so hot that pretty much everything else around her was freezing. So, when she felt the ice crawling through her veins in the aftermath of Ruby’s statement she first just assumed that a draft had blown through. “T-that’s ridiculous. I’m just as much a dragoness as you are.”

Ruby tilted her head, giving Peril a deeply disappointed expression. “Come on, you’re not fooling anyone.” She waved to the crowd. “See for yourself. Scoria’s ‘heir’ is nothing but a deluded drake.”

The curious looks she’d already been getting intensified tenfold, and she felt every slight nod or whisper of agreement like a spear in her chest. She crouched lower to the ground, drawing her wings over herself to hide the bluntness of her horns and the twigginess of her limbs. “N-no…” she mumbled, her quick tongue failing.

Someone brushed past her, and she was hopeful until Scoria’s voice rang out in opposition to Ruby. “Peril is mentally female and was raised as female by Queen Scarlet. I see no requirement in our laws for the heir to have one set of genitals or another.”

Ruby’s laughter was stiff and devoid of warmth. “‘Mentally female’? That’s nothing. Females lay eggs, and males fertilize them. That’s the way it always has been and the way it always will be. Who cares what he thinks?”

“You’re one to talk, ‘Ruby.’” Peril had peeked out enough to see Scoria wiggling her tail sarcastically. “Or did we forget that you’re only mentally the queen, but physically a totally different dragon?”

Ruby growled, and she raised one claw to her earring. “I’d rip your head off for that, but you’re not a proper challenger. Now get out of here, and take that drake with you.”

Peril felt the tears teasing at her eyes, and she quickly pulled her head in before they began to fall. Not in front of all these people. She expected Scoria to give up and leave, but there was no rustle of wings or howl of defeat. “Leave? That’s rich. Don’t you remember that we outnumber you two to one?”

“And yet your claim to my throne will never be accepted if you take it by force. Showing up with a bunch of other dragons to take the throne is not strength . It is pure cowardice!”

Man, they’re really going on about this. Maybe everyone will just… forget what they’ve heard about me . She couldn’t go anywhere to escape their stares, though. If she tried to run off, Scoria would kill Clay. If she convinced Scoria to retreat, she’d find out about Scorch and kill Clay. There was no good option, except to crumple on the flagstones and sob. At least that felt good.

“Look at your so-called champion, crying on the ground like a little boy! I guess even my mother couldn’t make him totally--”

“That’s enough , my queen!” Gannet shouted from the sidelines. The sound of her voice was like a firework going off in Peril’s heart, except without the horrible painful death afterwards. “How does insulting Peril protect your people?”

“I’m not insulting her, Gannet. I’m simply stating facts. Unless you really think that a dragoness can have a penis?” There was a murmur through the crowd, but nobody bothered to disagree.

Gannet growled, and pushed past the guards around Peril to stand at her side, just next to Scoria. The traitor gave her an odd look, but said nothing. “I do, my queen.”

Everyone tensed as Ruby began to move, but she just sat down on the stage, sighing. “Well, I’d love to hear your reasoning.”

“Okay,” replied Gannet, and Peril was perplexed to see a hint of excitement on her face. “Well, for starters, we need to establish a difference between sex and gender, with the first being what you are, y’know, biologically, and the second being how you prefer to be called. Can we agree to those definitions?”

“I’d say so, but why should I care what someone else prefers to be called?”

Gannet tensed. “Why you should care is a pretty complex question, but what matters is that you already care about what gender people are.”

Still frowning, Ruby laughed. “I most certainly do not.”

“Yes, you do. Tell me, how do you know that, say, General Scoria is a dragoness?” Scoria glanced up suddenly, and Peril realized that her eyes had been glazing over as Gannet talked.  

“Well, she can lay eggs. That’s what makes you a dragoness.”

“Have you checked?” asked Gannet, and Scoria blushed.

“Wh--of course not! How dare you suggest that--”

“Then how can you be sure? All you have to go on is how Scoria looks and acts, and she’s unmistakably female. As is Peril.”

Ruby shrugged. “Have you looked at Peril? Sh-He’s super manly.” Peril shrunk down, but she saw Gannet’s claws digging into the dirt and took a little strength from that.

“No, she isn’t! Nobody ever thought that until she told them her history, and that includes you! You just assumed, based on how she acted. And you’re still doing it, too. I just heard you almost get her pronoun right.” Gannet held out a hand to Ruby. “I get that it’s easier to pretend that you can’t see it, but you’re really hurting Peril, and she doesn’t deserve that.”

“Doesn’t--what are you talking about? She chose to betray me!”

“Scoria kidnapped her boyfriend! What was she supposed to do?”

Ruby grumbled, but she couldn’t muster a response. At some point the eyes of the crowd had drifted away from Peril and up to Ruby, and now they were a bit miffed. “... why do you care? If I’m hurting Peril so much by telling the truth, she can defend herself. Not like you’d know how it feels.”

There was a long pause, and Peril could see all sorts of emotions fighting for control of Gannet’s expression. You don’t have to do this for me, Gannet. Just back down . “I know because… well, because I’m trans too.”

“Hm?”

“Sorry, I mean, I’m biologically male but…” Gannet trailed off, losing her previous confidence.

“No, I get that. But your hatchery certificate very specifically states that you’re female.”

“I had it changed. Nobody had a problem, but I’m not in line for the throne so…” She let that linger, and the crowd murmured. “The point is, calling Peril male is insulting, incorrect, and it makes her feel really bad. What would Prince Cliff think?”

“Prince--Leave my son out of this! I should have you strung up for insubordination! In fact, guards, arrest this dragon!” She sneered, confident in her victory.

Gannet sighed and held out her wrists, but nobody appeared from the crowd. As it turned out, all the loyalist guards were still pretty busy being held at spearpoint by Scoria’s troops. The traitor laughed, and patted Gannet on the back. “Thank you, er, whatever your name is. You’ve done me a great service.” Shivering, Gannet glanced at the sky, as if looking for something. Luckily, Scoria was too busy pontificating to notice. “Yes, I’ll have you put up in one of the suites in my old estate, once we take the palace. You’ll love it there, much brighter than the barracks here.”

Grunting, Gannet pushed her away and drew her sword. The screech of steel on steel silenced the crowd again, and Scoria quickly returned to the present. “I’m not your friend.”

Like she had with Anopheles, Scoria lunged for Gannet and attempted to throw her, but Gannet grappled right back. They struggled for dominance, rising into a sort of inverted as they used their hind legs to add even more force. Peril noticed a web of scars on Gannet’s underbelly, and wondered where she’d gotten them. Scoria growled, baring her teeth and snapping at Gannet’s snout. That was enough to break her concentration and send her clanking to the ground, pinned under Scoria’s claws.

Grabbing the glass knife from her belt, Scoria pressed the blade against Gannet’s throat. “It’d be a shame to kill this one, really, after she made such a good argument. Don’t you agree, Ruby? I think the crowd agrees.” There were nods and murmurs through the assembled dragons, and Ruby sighed. “Now, why don’t we let Peril issue her challenge again and listen a little more closely.” She looked back at Peril, who was still panicking, making herself small, and maybe crying a little. “Go on, you know the words.”

Ruby gave her a pained look, but nodded nonetheless. I can’t believe I’m really about to do this… there’s no way I can disarm Scoria before she kills Gannet, is there? She gulped. “Queen Ruby, I--do you hear that sound?” She looked where Gannet had looked, but there was nothing there, just the sound of flapping wings.

“Quit stalling!” Scoria shouted, pushing the knife down a bit further and drawing forth a drop of blood. Gannet glared up at her, fearless.

“Okay, okay. Queen Ruby, by right of Soror Avitas and considering Gannet’s proof of my femininity--” Gannet glared at her and Peril tried to make her expression as apologetic as she could. “--I… I challenge you for--” She was finally cut off by a battle-cry from behind the stage. Even if she had kept talking, the wave of loyalist soldiers descending from the sky would’ve drowned it out with the beating of their wings.

Scoria glanced back and forth between the army, Gannet, and Peril, flipping the knife end-over-end in her claw. It took a javelin thunk ing into the dirt in front of her to make her release Gannet. She took to the air, shouting her own battlecry, and Peril rushed to Gannet’s aid.

Just in time, she avoided trying to help Gannet up, and instead just watched as she rolled over off her wings, grabbing her sword and yanking the javelin from the ground. “I can’t thank you enough, Gannet. If you hadn’t been here…” She trailed off as Gannet turned to look at the battle beginning above, and sighed

“Don’t thank me yet, there’s still a fight to be won,” she replied, and took off towards the aerial skirmish.

Peril wanted to follow, but the dragons had drawn into such a tight group that it would be impossible for her to fight inside without killing some friendly forces. Instead, she turned to Ruby and inclined her head. “My queen.”

Ruby glared back at her, one claw rising to her earring as she spoke. “Now is not the time, Peril,” she snapped, and took out the earring. In an instant, she was Tourmaline, and in the next she was charging into the boiling mass of SkyWings above. Peril glanced to the crowd, most of whom were departing as quick as they could, and wished she could help. At least the broken-legged MudWing’s friends were dragging him to safety, so she could afford to just sit and wait for something to come up.

At least Scoria didn’t have a chance to send any messengers back to her estate. Clay and the dragonets are safe , she thought, looking towards the mountain pass that led to Scoria’s protected valley. An injured soldier, one of Scoria’s, fell next to her with a crack , and moments later two more fell. She looked up to see that the tide of battle had turned. The loyalist forces seemed to be trying not to kill, and catching those they injured, but plenty of blood was still falling from their opponents. More and more broke away from the fight, spreading to the four winds, including one particular fighter with blue-barred scales.

Scoria was flying as fast as she could with a javelin stuck in her tail, angling away towards the valley as she made her escape. Peril was in the air a moment later, flapping as hard as she could. No! Not after all this. Scoria was fast, but her bulk held her back compared to Peril’s lithe form, and soon they were neck-and-neck. The general looked over at her, surprised, and let out a jet of flame.

It washed over Peril harmlessly, not even heating her scales, and she grinned. “Nice try. Why don’t you land while you still have the chance?” she said, miming a slash at Scoria’s wing.

The general growled at her and tipped down, towards a tunnel opening well out of view of the other soldiers. She was running as soon as she hit the ground, but Peril gracefully touched down just in front of the cave. Scoria still towered over her, but any fear she’d had was gone now, replaced by righteous fury. There was nothing the traitorous general could do to hurt her now.

“Out of my way, Princess, ” Scoria spat, not even pretending to respect the title. She pulled the glass knife from her belt. “Or I’ll make sure your boyfriend never sees the light of day again.”

“Too late. He’s already far from your prison, along with your dragonets.”

The look of fear that flitted across Scoria’s face at that comment gave Peril a great deal of satisfaction. “I don’t know what you’re talking about. Step aside before I make you.” She raised the knife, falling into a warrior’s stance.

“With that thing? I can melt glass, you know.”

“Not before I cut your throat!” Scoria leapt at her, stabbing down with the obsidian blade. Peril stumbled under the force of the impact, feeling the knife force itself partway into her shoulder-scale before stopping. She grunted, trying to pull it free, but it was stuck fast. A reddish glow began to spread up the blade, and a few seconds later it cracked and shattered with a loud snap.

Peril brushed some shards from her shoulder and raised her claw, talons extended in a killing stance. “You were saying?”

If she hadn’t known better, she would’ve said that Scoria had been enchanted. In an instant, her aggressive demeanor was gone, replaced by cringing submission. “N-now hold on, we can talk about this… I just wanted to help you see your full potential!”

“Well, congratulations. You’re about to see it.” Peril stepped forward and let out a small snort of fire.

“P-please. What would your boyfriend--what would Clay think if you killed me?”

She shrugged. “He’d get over it.”   Dammit, she’s right. I can’t kill her, not without betraying him and Scorch.

Scoria squeaked, backing towards the cliff. The drop behind her was at least a hundred feet, and they both knew that Peril could knock her out of the air if she tried to fly off. “I can still help you! We can put this all behind us--you can have the mines, the estate, even my dragonets! Anything!” Crocodile tears dripped from her snout as she teetered on the edge of the cliff.

Peril growled, and didn’t stop advancing. “They’re not yours to offer.”

“I-I was only following orders! Wasp--she’s the one you want! This is her scheme, and Anopheles, he’s in on it too! Please, I’ll tell you every- -glk !” Scoria was cut off quite sharply as Peril thrust a claw into her mouth, cracking the incisors, and wrapped her talons around her tongue.

“You’ve said enough.”

A cloud of steam came from Scoria’s mouth along with a low whine that gradually intensified to a terrified screech. Scoria writhed in her grip, gnashing her blunted teeth against Peril’s wrist and trying to pull away as the steam petered out and the burning began.

She stared Scoria right in the eyes, ignoring her screams, until at last Scoria managed to wrench herself free. She fell in a heap, gagging and coughing up ash. Peril tossed aside the mass of charred flesh in her claw, grimacing.

Scoria looked up at her, rage in her eyes, and opened her mouth to rebut. All that came out was a low whistling. She clawed at her throat, sputtering incoherently, then just hissed at Peril in a rage.  Her back foot was still inching towards the edge of the cliff.

“If you jump I will catch you, and I don’t think either of us want that.”

Growling, Scoria flapped her wings and leapt straight over Peril’s head. She reached up, trying to catch Scoria’s tail and knock her out of the air, but her talons only grazed it. As soon as she was back on the ground, Scoria scrambled away into the cave, lighting her way with a gout of fire. Peril gave chase immediately, following the light of Scoria’s fire through the twisting passageway as it grew narrower and narrower, until at last her bulky opponent could go no further.

Scoria slammed into the too-small tunnel with a grunt, trying to force her way through, but the effort was fruitless. Peril coughed, and she turned around in the tunnel, driven up against the back wall.

Before she could dart away again, Peril stretched out her wings, forming an impenetrable barrier across the cave. Then she hunched a bit, panting and trying to catch her breath. “You’re really making a good argument for me killing you right now.”

Tears of rage were forming in the corners of Scoria’s eyes as she screeched and charged Peril again. Peril only just managed to roll out of the way. Scoria made no effort to escape, whirling around and making another suicidal attack. This one forced Peril to batter her with her wings, leaving thin burn marks on Scoria’s neck and shoulders.

“Why are you doing this!?” Peril shouted, easily avoiding a slash. Scoria could do nothing but wail in response. I can’t let her kill herself! What would Scorch think? Desperately, Peril looked for a means to restrain Scoria. All she could find offhand was a large chunk of rock on the cavern floor, which she took up in one claw. It quickly warmed in her grip, but didn’t melt.

For a split second before her next attack, Scoria paused to give her a quizzical look. Then she charged, and Peril swung the rock wildly. There was a loud crack , and when Peril opened her eyes she saw Scoria sprawling on the floor, one leg broken but still clawing at her toes.

Peril stepped back, tossing the rock aside, and sat down on the other side of the cave. Hopefully the palace guard would be here soon, or anybody else who could put some cuffs on Scoria without burning her claws off. Right now, she just wanted to take a nap…

“We’ve got to stop meeting like this,” said Gannet, poking Peril with the blunt end of her spear.

Bleary, Peril lifted her head from the cave floor, then groaned. “How long was I out?” She glanced over at Scoria to see a couple more guards fitting cuffs around her wrists, and a third keeping a spear at her throat to stop her from snapping at them. All of them were bruised and battered, and there was a long gash in Gannet’s armor that luckily didn’t seem to be leaking any blood.

“It’s been about three hours since the loyalists arrived, so a bit less than that. You’re lucky that I saw where you two landed, or you might’ve been down here all night.”

“Actually, can I stay down here all night? I haven’t slept in… days.”

Gannet grimaced. “That stinks, but I’m sure the beds at the palace are more comfortable. Assuming either of us are still allowed there.”

“Yeah… is Clay okay?” Peril asked, trying to ignore Scoria’s wails as she was dragged off by the guards.

“He’s fine , and so are Scorch and his dragonets. They’ve already told us the whole thing.

“Wow. You’ve had a busy three hours.”

“Yep. Oh, also, Ruby ordered me to bring you to her as soon as I found you, so hop to!” Gannet gestured for Peril to stand.

She stumbled to her feet, feeling a bit better but still awful after all the commotion of the past few days. The thought of seeing Clay again was enough to get her on her feet, though. “Okay, let’s get going.”

Gannet nodded, and led her out of the cave. The other guards had already taken off with Scoria. “What’s going to happen to her?” Peril asked, as the two of them took to the air.

“She won’t be executed; Ruby doesn’t condone the practice. Probably just thrown in prison for the rest of her life.”

“I hope she gets stuck in the deepest, darkest cell. See how she likes it,” Peril suggested, and Gannet murmured in agreement. “How did you know the loyalists would show up?”

“I was the one who sent out the distress message, once you told me what Scoria’s plans were. That’s why I debated the queen, too, as a delaying action. Well, that and because I couldn’t just sit there and watch her tear into you like that.”

“At least there’s a few good dragons out there.” Peril crossed her forelegs and blew smoke from her nostrils.

Gannet sighed. “I know that what she did was horrible, but people like her… it’s not entirely their fault for not knowing. We--trans dragons, that is--aren’t exactly fond of making ourselves known.”

If any other dragon had said that to her, Peril would’ve set them on fire. But Gannet of all people was one to understand how it felt. “Yeah… maybe someone should do something about that!”

“How?”

“Well, what if we started some kind of… club? Like, a society for trans dragons, so nobody would feel like they were alone. Plus, if we all worked together we could argue against dragons like Ruby way more effectively.”

Gannet nodded. “That’s actually really clever! Would we meet here or…” she trailed off, unsure if they’d ever be able to return to the Sky Kingdom.

“Jade Mountain is neutral ground, plus I can be sure that most of the people in charge are on-board with transness.”

“Mhm. Speaking of…” Gannet pointed down, at the rapidly approaching palace. They landed gracefully, and there was no honor guard to stand in their way as they headed to the throne room. In fact, the whole palace was surprisingly empty. Peril pointed this out, and Gannet explained: “Most of the guard are in hospital, right now. We took heavy casualties in that fight.”

“Oh…”

“Don’t worry, none of ours died,” Gannet assured as they reached the doors to the throne room and she pushed them open with both claws. “Firescales first.”

Peril walked through as slowly as she felt comfortable, sweeping the room with her gaze. Ruby was atop her throne, flanked by two mostly-intact royal guards. There was a bandage over the right side of her head and neck, and one of her wings was held out in a splint. Still, she glared down at them with her exposed eye.

“My queen…” Peril said, and bowed. Gannet bowed too, but said nothing.

“Peril,” she replied, and before Peril could make her case she continued: “You made a personal threat on my life and aided an enemy agent in an attack on my people and my guests. There’s literally no crime worse than that. By the law of the Sky Kingdom I am well within my rights to kill you. ”

A curl of smoke came from Peril’s scales as she tensed. If Ruby wanted her dead she’d have to do better than two guards.

“However, I have decided to spare your life. Gannet’s testimony has made it clear that you were coerced into your treason, and Scoria is the real criminal here.”

“Thank you, my--”

“--I cannot simply allow you to run free, though. When I allowed you to return to my kingdom, I placed my trust in you, as my mother did before me. Perhaps I made the same mistake she did, of assuming I could control you. But I am not my mother.” She paused to take a breath. “Peril, you are hereby banished from the Sky Kingdom, and stripped of all titles I have granted. That goes for you as well, Gannet. By sunset today, I expect you both to be gone.”

“Wha--Why Gannet?” demanded Peril. “You know that she was acting in your best interest!”

“And I also know that she aided a traitor in front of a massive crowd of my guests. I cannot allow this to pass with no consequences. That is what leads to dragons like Scoria rising to power.”

Peril sputtered furiously, but Gannet took a knee. “I accept my punishment, queen.” Peril stared at her, open-mouthed, but she said nothing.

“Thank you. You are dismissed. Peril, stay.” Ruby waved Gannet out of the room. She took a moment to un-strap her armor and lean her spear up against the wall before heading out. Peril stepped forward, still smoking. “Thank you, Peril.”

“What do you want?”

Ruby sighed, resting her head on her claws. “I… want to apologize. For how I’ve treated you.”

“Bit late for that.” Peril pointed out, and the guards raised their spears.

Ruby put up a claw to stop them. “You’re right. Gannet and Clay explained matters more fully to me, and I realize now that I was in the wrong about you. I was acting out of political expediency instead of respecting my people.”

Peril remembered all the things she’d said to Clay, just a few weeks ago. Had he felt that bad? “You were… and I forgive you. It’s not an easy thing to wrap your head around.”

“Thank you. You may go.”

Peril had almost left the throne room when she remembered something. “Wait, can I ask you one more thing?”

“Make it quick.”

“What’s happening to Scorch and his dragonets?”

Ruby raised an eye-ridge. “I’m surprised you care. They are banished as well, of course, since none of them actually attacked me and Scorch was instrumental in rescuing a foreign diplomat.

“But they don’t really have anywhere to go…”

“Clay has already agreed to house them at Jade Mountain, conditional on the other trustees’ approval.”

Her heart leapt at the queen’s words. Jade Mountain would be perfect for the dragonets, and she was already looking forward to helping them get settled. “That’s all I had to ask, thanks.” She turned away from Ruby and headed towards the door, where Gannet was waiting, and beyond that… who knew?