Work Text:
Enchant this ring to remove the firescales of its wearer while it is worn, subject to the following conditions:
- It will not affect or impact the wearer in any other way
- It will be impervious to melting, destruction, or any other of form of damage
- It will always perfectly fit the claw of the wearer, and cannot be removed unless the wearer expressly desires to remove it
- If lost, stolen, or otherwise misplaced, after a short delay, it will reappear on the claw of its current rightful owner
Turtle read over his words for what felt like it must have been the hundredth time. It still didn’t sound quite right to him. Maybe ‘suppress’, instead of ‘remove’? He reached out to dip the tip of his dark green claw into his ornate inkwell, and crossed out the offending word from the scrap of scroll in front of him. He hesitated a moment, before cautiously writing in its replacement.
Enchant this ring to suppress the firescales of its wearer…
Yes, that was better, he thought.
Turtle stood and stretched, arching his back with a low, rumbling, groan - he’d been hunched over his desk for far too long, really. He didn’t even want to think about how he still had to finish his essay on ancient Rainwing politics for Webs’ class tomorrow. Nope, he pushed that nagging thought right to the back of his mind as he padded across the cave to retrieve the ring from its spot on his shelf. That was a problem for later.
He turned the ring over in his talon, inspecting the intricate carvings of sea life that ran around its silver perimeter - fish, dolphins, and fittingly enough, a turtle, etched into a bed of seagrass. Anemone had let him have it; she had far too much jewelry to mind giving away such an “unremarkable” ring.
Turtle had come to think that perhaps, with a bit of care and attention, even the most unremarkable and overlooked things could become something special - at least to the right dragons, anyway. He’d asked for Anemone’s help with wording his enchantment too, but she hadn’t been so keen on that, given who he was enchanting it for. Having made his way back to his desk, he skimmed over what he had written on the scrap of scroll once again. Hmm. In the third condition, maybe he should -
No. Turtle shook his head, clearing his thoughts. He had to call it finished eventually. He’d learned from his writing when he was younger that he could spend days fiddling with the word choice on an otherwise complete story if he didn’t just declare it finished at some point. Although, this was a lot more important for him to get right.
He ran his claw over the thin gap cut out of the ring, designed to accommodate the webbed talon of a Seawing, and started to read - slowly at first, but with growing confidence.
“I enchant this ring to suppress the firescales of its wearer while it is worn, subject to the following conditions…”
A few moments later, it was done. The ring didn’t seem any different; the engraved turtle glinted back at him just as it had before. But he supposed enchanted things always did seem perfectly ordinary on the surface. Satisfied, Turtle set the ring atop the scroll its enchantment had originated from. Now he just had to wait for her to show up. He knew she would, eventually.
Later that evening, Turtle was finally interrupted from his arduous work on the essay by a wave of heat crashing over the cave. He thought it was more of a pleasant warmth, really - it had been a cold day and the temperature was only decreasing as it came to an end. He rolled up the essay and placed it aside, looking up at the source of his warmth; her copper-orange scales framed by the cave entrance, one foretalon held hesitantly in the air, halfway through a step. She lowered her head nervously, her vibrant blue eyes avoiding his.
“A-are you busy? You look like you’re busy. I can go do something else, it’s ok, I’ll just… leave.”
Turtle smiled reassuringly at his friend. “No, Peril, come in. It’s just Webs’ history essay.”
Despite his assurance, she took half a step backwards, planting the floating talon behind the other. “A-are you sure? That’s due really soon, isn’t it? I don’t want to disturb you…”
Turtle sighed and gestured his wing towards the floor in the middle of the cave. “Peril. Get in here. You could still come in even if I wanted to keep working on this, and I definitely don’t.” He smiled at her again as she slunk into the room, wings held tightly against her side. “That’s how being friends works.”
Without turning his head from her, Turtle’s claws subtly drifted over to the newly enchanted ring.
Peril settled herself near the center of the room, far from anything flammable, and looked up at him, relaxing slightly. “I still can’t believe I have friends…”
Stepping somewhat awkwardly due to the ring clasped in his talon, Turtle made his way over to her. “See, it’s those kinds of things you say that make me worry about you.” He sat across from her, starting to reflexively fiddle with the ring now that his weight was off that talon. He continued, gently, “How are you doing with Webs’ class?”
“Um. Pretty good. I think. They still haven’t figured out how I’m meant to write anything, since, you know…” Peril held out her talon, palm towards him, the heat radiating from it illustrating her point. “Firescales and all.” Her talon retracted, and she tucked it back under herself. “So Webs decided he could just ask me some questions about my topic after class. To prove I understand it. Or something. Clay’s been helping me study.” Her gaze drifted downwards to Turtle’s fidgeting claws.
“Turtle. What’s wrong with your talon?”
Before he had a chance to respond, her own talon flew to her mouth and she hurriedly stammered out “N-not like that! It, um, looks perfectly healthy and normal. With the webbing and everything. Just, uh, why do you keep… twitching it? Not that that’s a bad thing either! Oh moons, Turtle, I’m so sorry, let me try again -”
Turtle merely laughed at her outburst. “Peril, relax, it’s alright!” He hesitated slightly, glancing down at the ring in his claws, obscured from Peril by the webbing. “I have something for you.”
In a slightly clumsy motion, Turtle extended his arm and rolled the ring across the stony floor to her. The underwater motifs came to life with a flickery, glimmering light as the torches around the room glinted off the engravings. Peril flinched away as it fell onto its side with a clink in front of her talons.
“Oh. Jewelry.” Her gaze lifted from inspecting the ring back up to meet Turtle’s, a confused expression across her snout. “Turtle, that’s very, uh… sweet? But I can’t touch this. It’s just going to melt.”
Turtle laughed warmly, and gestured to the ring. “Go on, try it.”
Hesitantly, Peril looked back down at the ring and reached out a claw to prod at it. The ring, remaining decidedly unmelted, scraped slightly along the rough floor. Peril glanced up suspiciously at Turtle. “Did you enchant this?”
Turtle nodded. “I did.” He looked down at his talons, stalling. “It’s… designed to suppress your firescales. While you’re wearing it.”
Peril, who had gingerly picked up the ring between two of her claws to inspect it, set it down hurriedly after hearing that, and narrowed her eyes at him. “I have had some VERY BAD experiences in the past with enchanted jewelry that was meant to do that.” She paused, her snout wrinkling up in thought, making for what Turtle thought was a very funny expression. He watched in amusement as she worked her way through the problem. “But I trust you." she eventually concluded. “I think.”
“Thanks for the vote of confidence, Peril.” he said dryly. Then, more nervously, “Do you want to try it?”
“Um. Sure. I can try it. If you want.” Peril delicately grasped the ring with two of her claws, and lifted it towards her other talon; moving slowly, cautiously, as if it might melt if she weren’t careful. She made it about halfway before she hesitated again, and lowered her arm to look back up at Turtle. “Turtle, what about your soul? I-I don’t want you to hurt yourself doing something for me…”
“Peril, I already enchanted it.” An opportunity too good to pass up presented itself, and Turtle lowered his voice and bared his teeth.
“Don’t you see Peril? It’s already too late for my soul...”
He gave her his best evil laugh to go along with that, the sort of ridiculous evil laugh that might be ascribed to the villain of one of Coral’s most clichéd dragonet stories. Peril stared at him in a bewildered silence. Turtle stared right back at her, maintaining his expression for as long as he could, until it all became too much and he collapsed into a fit of giggles, this time entirely authentic.
Peril might even have smiled too.
He continued softly, after recomposing himself, “But no, seriously Peril, I feel fine. We can go check Darkstalker’s soul reader later, if you want. But whatever it says, this was definitely worth it.”
“You,” Peril declared “are a massive dork.” In a single rapid motion, she clumsily jammed the ring onto her claw.
Turtle watched in satisfaction as the silvery metal shrunk slightly to sit snugly against her scales; which then faded from the coppery sheen he was used to a dull orange. A very typical color for a Skywing. Then he shivered as his heat source blinked out of existence.
Peril practically jumped out of her scales as she stood up in shock. “WOAH. This… It’s freezing in here! This is AWFUL.” A delighted expression gradually established itself on her face. “Oh, Turtle, this is incredible!”
Turtle shot her a wry smile. “Welcome to how the rest of us have to live.”
Peril held her talon up to her face, inspecting the ring on her claw in fascination. “Did it… shrink? When I put it on? I think it was looser before. N-not that it’s too small or anything! It feels pretty… perfect, actually.”
Turtle smiled sheepishly. “I may have… spent several days working on the spell. I added a few things like that.” He gestured his wing towards his desk. “It’s written out on that bit of scroll over there, if you want to read it.”
His gaze followed Peril as she padded over to his desk, still as cautious as she always was. Turtle watched as she craned her head down to read, standing awkwardly over the desk, as he’d seen her do many times before. “Peril, you can pick it up to read it, if you’d like.”
“Oh. Right.” Peril reached out tentatively, poking at the scrap first with one claw, then two, before setting her entire talon atop it. She turned back to Turtle excitedly. “It’s not burning! Haha! Look at this, Turtle!” Clumsily, but with complete conviction, she slipped two claws under the scrap to lift it. Turtle couldn’t help but laugh at her sincere delight as she awkwardly clenched the scrap in her talon, as if she’d never held a scroll before. He supposed she probably hadn’t.
And yet, as he watched, her delight faded. “Turtle? I am so grateful that you did this. This is… probably the nicest thing anyone has ever done for me. Well, I mean, the bar is pretty low after, um. EX-Queen Scarlet. But, uh… this? This is amazing. But I…”
The scrap of scroll fluttered out of her open talon and back to the table.
“I can’t keep this. I have such a long way to go, after… everything. With Scarlet. A-and I need time to figure out who I am now, and who I want to be in the future, and... that means all of me. Firescales and all. I…”
Peril stepped back from the desk, and slid the ring off her claw. She held it reverently for a few moments longer, before letting it fall to the desk with a soft thud. She looked up at Turtle, her scales back to their usual shimmering copper.
“I don’t want a magic shortcut.”
Turtle stood, feeling her warmth wash over his scales again, and stepped forward to retrieve the ring. He’d had a hunch.
“I know, Peril. I know.”
He turned away from her to walk to his shelf, and set the ring right back where he’d taken it from initially. In its proper spot.
“That’s why I’m keeping this. For now, anyway. When you’re ready for it, no matter how long that takes, it’ll be right here waiting for you.”
Turtle turned back to face her and smiled.
“And in the meantime, Peril, I’ll still be here for you. Firescales and all. We all will.”
He barely had time to parse the shocked expression across her snout before he was tackled into a bone-crushing hug.
Well, his invincibility spell prevented any bones from actually being crushed, but Peril sure tried her hardest anyway.
“You,” Peril declared “are the BEST FRIEND in all of Pyrrhia. And probably all the other places too, but definitely at least Pyrrhia.”
And there he was, enveloped in her wings. His own personal heated blanket, insulated from the world and everything in it. Turtle couldn’t help but melt into her. He relaxed his body, and laid his head down limply on her chest. His eyes drifted closed contentedly. It was getting quite late, he realised.
“Oh no. Are you falling asleep again?”
“Hush.” Turtle mumbled. “Cold night.”
“But your essay…”
“Can wait to morning.”
The last thing Turtle felt before drifting into a deep sleep was Peril shifting slightly under him, finding a more comfortable position for herself. His worries about souls and essays were all but forgotten; problems for a future Turtle.
Right now, he was with his best friend on the entire continent, and that’s all that mattered to him.