Work Text:
When Darkstalker slunk into the living room of his family’s home he was surprised to find that it wasn’t empty. He had deliberately perked a mental ear before leaving his bedroom to ensure he didn't stumble into one of his parent’s ‘heated discussions’, but in spite of this reconnaissance one dragon had still managed to escape his notice. Sat beside the window and entranced by the flurry of softly falling snowflakes was Whiteout, her mind so tranquil that he could barely hear it. Sidling up beside her, Darkstalker lay down to join his sister in appreciating the gentle snowfall as he twined his tail in hers. Whiteout hardly acknowledged his intrusion on her silent contemplation other than to lean ever so slightly back into his shoulder.
“Why must the prettiest of roses hold the sharpest of thorns?” Whiteout pondered after a time, carefully tracing one of the larger snowflakes that had been plastered to the window pane. In the grander scheme of things this was far from one of the strangest comments his sister had ever made. When in a meditative mood like the one she was obviously in currently, her comments often ventured even further into the bizarre than they usually did.
Not that Darkstalker minded in the slightest. While it could be confounding when in a rush, during moments such as these when time wasn’t a factor her speech was like a delightful puzzle for him to solve. Taking a jab at the most simple solution, Darkstalker chose to interpret her current riddle in reference to what was immediately before them.
“If you’re worried about it being too cold to enjoy the day outside, I have a blanket you could use. Even if you only wrap it around your shoulders I promise it’ll keep every scale of yours toasty and warm.” Darkstalker offered with a wink that promised there was more to his offering than simple fabric.
Whiteout just huffed in fond exasperation at his suggestion as she finally turned her attention to him. Judging by the hints of disappointed purple tinting her thoughts, he hadn't quite managed to decipher her question in the way she had hoped but the large swathes of amused yellow seemed to more than make up for it.
“And turn the flower into something it's not? No. Much better to bear its barbs than risk dulling its beauty in an attempt to tame it.” Whiteout reprimanded lightly in tacit refusal of his offer.
“If you say so.” Darkstalker surrendered easily with a raised talon but couldn’t help himself from adding some blunt logic to her artful metaphor. “But I doubt that the snow is going to disappear just because you don't want to risk losing your claws to frostbite.”
Whiteout tittered a laugh behind a raised wing in acknowledgement of his point. After that quick exchange however Whiteout seemed content to fall back into silent admiration of the winter-white valley below their cliffside home. In spite of her external performance at serenity though, it seemed that his presence stirred up something she wanted to ask by the speckles of green that prickled her mind.
“So, do you want to go out then?” Darkstalker prodded when Whiteout shifted her wings to sit more comfortably for the fourth time in so many minutes.
“Not today, no. I have canvases that long to speak and thoughts that need painting but…” here Whiteout hesitated, uncertainty clear in the set of her frown as she regarded him.
Unwilling to bear any semblance of doubt from one of the few that he trusted implicitly, Darkstalker attempted his best dorky smile. “C’mon, don't keep me hanging. Whatever you're thinking about has to be interesting if it's held your attention for this long.”
“Father mentioned an old Icewing tradition to celebrate the winter solstice. When he told me about it, for a moment he seemed to soften from jaw to shoulder.” In a mirror of her recollection, Whiteout traced a claw along Darkstalker’s own scales and he forced himself to relax the muscles that had instinctively tightened at the mention of their progenitor. “If it's something that can bring out the sky blue in Father, I thought it might be fun to try for ourselves.”
And what else could Darkstalker say to that. No matter how much he disliked most everything that came from Arctic's side of the family, he could put aside his grudge if it meant he could avoid disappointing Whiteout. Especially when she looked to have already braced herself for his rejection of her request.
“Of course we can give it a go! We're both half Icewing after all.” Darkstalker acquiesced even if he had to artificially drum up some of the enthusiasm in his voice. “If they could produce two of the greatest dragons in the world then I'm sure at least one of their stuffy old traditions must be fun.”
“You’re sure you don’t mind? Salt and sugar may fool the eye but their taste reveals the difference.” Whiteout reiterated, seeing through his act with an effortlessness that no-one else could quite replicate. But in spite of this compassionate bid for confirmation, Darkstalker could feel how happy she was at the mere prospect of such a celebration.
“Maybe a little, but since we’re going to be the ones in charge I don’t see why we can’t just get rid of anything we don’t like.” Darkstalker confirmed as he warmed up to the idea, unable to prevent the excitement oozing from his sister’s thoughts from bleeding into his own. “We could even invite some of our friends too, how does that sound? If a pair of hybrids is putting it together we might as well give it an inter-tribal twist.”
“Now you’re really muddying the canvas.” Whiteout teased, but the smile blooming on her snout betrayed her. From there they spiralled as the two discussed how best to put on a winter-time party.
~
The light from dawn’s claws piercing the window signaled her impending departure and Clearsight had to once again fight the budding instinct to consult the future. Darkstalker had made her promise not to look too closely at what he had planned for the morning after all. According to him it would, “ruin all my carefully laid plans to give you a break”.
Clearsight had taken a peak anyway. Not a large one of course, she trusted him that much. She had only taken enough of a look to make sure there wasn’t anything world-endingly dangerous, Darkstalker could hardly fault her for that. The anxious part of her had pleaded for a full examination of this unknown venture from every conceivable angle even still, just in case she’d missed something, but Clearsight had clamped down on that impulse hard. Especially because there wasn’t anything to worry about! As far as she could tell, the only thing waiting for her in the early morning was some well-earned time off after filling out a week's worth of scrolls for a never-satisfied queen.
Signing off the final sentence on her work-scroll for the night with a flourish, Clearsight allowed herself to abandon the neverending stream of responsibilities that hounded her for at least a couple hours. Stifling a groan as she stood up, Vigilance's top seer winced at the stiffness that had infected her back after a night spent hunched over quill and paper. Yes, maybe Darkstalker had a point about needing a break every now and then. It didn't matter how important her work was if she overworked herself past the point of competency.
Only after shaking out her numbed talons and flexing her spine did Clearsight feel about ready to leave to meet up with her friends. Before she could take flight from her office window however, a polite series of knocks sounded out past her door. Holding back a sigh at being caught just before she could escape, Clearsight resolved to do the polite thing and at least greet her visitor before fleeing at the first opportunity.
Opening the door just a crack even as she prepared an apologetic dismissal, Clearsight was pleasantly surprised to see none other than the emerald-green scales of foreign royalty.
“Fathom!” Clearsight exclaimed, almost throwing open her door in welcome before freezing upon spotting the mess of strewn scrolls carpeting the floor of her office.
“I hope I haven't come at a bad time.” Fathom ventured timidly through the crack of visibility afforded to him, a ‘sorry’ primed on the tip of his tongue at any hint of inconvenience that his presence might create.
“Not at all. In fact this is perfect timing on your part.” Clearsight insisted as she slipped out to join Fathom in the hallway before sealing the office behind her with a flick of her tail.
“Oh, really? Well, that's great then.” Fathom stumbled in surprise as the excuses he'd prepared while seeking out her company evaporated when she revealed that they'd never been needed in the first place. “Perfect timing for what, exactly?”
With a twinkle in her eye at being able to tease perhaps the only dragon more anxious than her, Clearsight answered with words that were so uncommon for an oracle as powerful as her. “I don’t know.”
The only reason Darkstalker had even told her of the timing of today’s plan was because he knew he could never truly hide anything from her in the first place. It was ironic then, that the most effective way he had found to surprise her involved explicitly asking in advance for her to not look ahead. It sort of spoiled the mystery either way but at the very least it allowed him to keep the specific details under wraps. Even though it ran counter to her very nature to leave the future shrouded, Clearsight couldn’t find it in her to deny him. Darkstalker always looked so earnestly, unabashedly joyous at coming up with ways to bamboozle her that she always agreed to let him have his fun. For the most part.
“You don’t know. I shouldn’t be worried should I?” questioned the gruff sounding voice of Fathom’s everpresent shadow.
“Only if you’re allergic to fun. Darkstalker and Whiteout have everything planned out apparently” Clearsight reassured as she threw a look over her shoulder to meet Indigo’s searching expression. The spear laden guard just grunted in acknowledgment but offered no additional complaints, practically a declaration of trust for one so dedicated to Fathom’s safety.
After twisting their way through a series of mirror lined passageways, they finally made their way to one of the palace’s many balconies that were available to the general public. Throwing open the doors, Clearsight led the way outside and pointed toward the eastern mountains. “I hope you don’t mind a bit of a flight because we’re headed about as far out as our territory reaches.”
When the two Seawings saw where she planned to take them, they both let out an involuntary shudder. If she was being honest, Clearsight could relate to their misgivings about their destination. Even after only a few seconds of standing outside, she could already begin to feel a brisk wind leeching the heat from her scales and the mountains weren’t going to be any warmer. At the very least the flight over should get their blood moving. Not to mention, by the time they get there the sun will have properly risen. Who knows, she might even relish at the opportunity to roll in the cool snow by then.
There is one way I could know for sure. A final thought nagged at her in temptation but she banished it with a shake of her head. Putting her trust in the fact that, if nothing else, Darkstalker wouldn’t let Whiteout linger in discomfort just for a prank, Clearsight launched herself into the air.
~
There were hardly any threats to be found on Border Mountain peak. Indigo suppressed yet another shiver as she ploughed through the snow in her endless patrol. Close, yet not too close, Fathom and his friends played in a frost-laden clearing like dragonets half their age. As was becoming more and more common throughout their stay in the Night Queendom, the once lonely prince bellowed out a carefree laugh that had been virtually non-existent before his un-official exile. Though part of Indigo longed to be the cause of such joy, she contented herself with the mere fact that she was able to witness it all.
When their group had first arrived and greeted both Darkstalker and Whiteout, the pair had feigned ignorance of any sort of pre-planned get-together, insisting that they’d simply been exploring until Clearsight had found them. In truth, so far it really did seem to be the coincidence that they had claimed. As far as Indigo could tell there wasn’t a single scrap of evidence that either hybrid had set up anything in advance except for their mere presence.
There were no snacks or drinks or any hint of preparations at all really within the area. It felt uncharitable to think, but Indigo knew that Clearsight, nice as she was, did occasionally get lost in all the timelines rattling around her skull. Despite that however, all present were enjoying themselves regardless. From slap-dash sledding on a freshly fallen log to timed snowdragon sculpting competitions that were startlingly elaborate for how quickly they’d been put together; it seemed that the only thing they needed to have fun was each other's company.
Though part of her whispered that it would be nice to join in on the ruckus, to put her hard earned muscles to work on something purely recreational, she buried that impulse. She was no longer some playmate to her prince, she was his most trusted guard, the final line of defense between him and the world. No matter how many pleading looks and flashes of aquatic that Fathom sent to beg her to join him, she couldn’t. It would be dishonourable to abandon her duties just because she was feeling left out.
No, not left out, that would imply she wanted to join in on their game. She was simply dissatisfied at how isolated and exposed they were to an ambush. Yes, that was all. A perfectly normal, guard-like concern to have. With her eyes glued to the horizon she didn’t see the snowball coming until it hit her square on the back of the head.
Fixing her most outraged expression upon her face, Indigo turned to the most likely suspect for such an underhanded blow. To her surprise, there was no look of vindictive glee to be found on Darkstalker but rather the same startled surprise she had worn mere seconds ago. It was only when laughter, as light and pretty as windchimes in the wind, drifted to her ears that she discovered it was his sister instead.
“Relax, purple shield. Danger lurks around corners, not mountaintops.” Whiteout sing-songed nonsensically as though Indigo was being the silly one.
If you don’t count the trouble that’s already here maybe. Indigo thought to herself but she had to admit the chances of an ambush at this point were exceedingly low. With everyone looking at her clearly expecting some sort of response to Whiteout’s challenge, Indigo reasoned that it would be rather disgraceful not to defend herself. As Fathom’s guard, representing the Sea Queendom was one of her duties. Deciding that there was no harm in indulging in just a tiny bit of fun, Indigo growled low. “I guess I can afford to relax a little, just know that you started it.”
Like the fools they were, everyone cheered at her proclamation, unaware of the monster they were about to face.
Snow exploded behind her at the speed with which she launched herself forward. She was a hurricane of motion, ducking and weaving around every snowball aimed towards her before firing back her own swift retribution. It soon became clear just how much she outclassed the others in such a game. While their group contained seers, wizards and telepaths, none of those fancy powers could stand up to Indigo’s honed reflexes. As it turned out, seeing the future or reading your opponents intentions could only help so much when your enemy was just that much faster than you.
Once everyone realized that Indigo held such an advantage it was only a matter of time until a foul conspiracy brewed. Quickly did the tide turn against her when the game turned from a fair free-for-all to one dragon standing alone against four. Indigo still gave it her best shot regardless, using every trick, feint, and scrap of cover she could find to even the odds. She only admitted defeat once she’d been dogpiled by three of them and Fathom threatened to dump a snowball the size of her head on top of her.
Exhausted, all five of them laid on their backs in the snow, their panting forming a miniature version of the grey wall of clouds that covered the sky above them. For a moment that observation didn’t concern her in the wake of such a satisfying workout but after she caught her breath Indigo quickly connected the dots. Rolling onto her talons, she casted a look eastward before cursing underneath her breath. So distracted had she been that the building storm clouds that now loomed over the Nightwing palace had managed to escape her notice.
“We need to leave, now.” Indigo commanded, wishing that they’d been airborne at least twenty minutes ago with how close those clouds looked to breaking.
“I wouldn’t do that if I were you.” Darkstalker warned ominously as he shook off the errant snowflakes that had clung to his wings.
“Oh, and why is that?” Indigo flared her gills in challenge, not at all in the mood to be contradicted by Darkstalker of all dragons when they couldn’t afford to be wasting any time.
“By the time you’re halfway to the palace, the winds will blow you clean out of the air.” Clearsight affirmed, voice shifting just to the left of normal, in the way that it always did when she was looking far beyond what was in front of her.
Frustration welled within Indigo at being ambushed with something that she had no power to fight back against, that could hurt Fathom. Especially when the one who supposedly organised this entire trip should have been able to SEE it coming!
“So we’re stranded out here.” Indigo accused, squashing her fear under justifiable outrage. “You knew there was a storm coming and you led us out here anyway.”
“Why yes, after months of friendship my final plan to let all of us perish together has been revealed. Whatever will I do?” Darkstalker lamented, swooning overdramatically as he raised a talon to his forehead.
“Darkstalker, don’t be mean.” Clearsight commanded with a flick to his nose that sent the drake’s snout scrunching. The two made faces at one another in the way only lovers seem to be able to before Clearsight apparently emerged victorious
“Oh alright. I’m sorry I didn’t warn you about the storm but I promise you there’s nothing to worry about.” Darkstalker acquiesced with an annoyingly unapologetic roll of his eyes. Moving away from the group, he set to burrowing through a nearby snowdrift with serrated claws that were usually so easy to mistake for being purely nightwing. Seeing what her brother was up to, Whiteout joined in happily alongside him and in no time a small tunnel into the side of the mountain started to form.
Dropping her voice to a whisper, Clearsight leaned conspiratorially toward Indigo. “I hope you can forgive his… abrasive sense of humour. If nothing else, I can promise you that his pride would never allow something as predictable as the weather to pose a risk to his ‘perfectly planned party’.”
It was only thanks to confidently mocking tilt to Clearsight’s smile as she poked fun at her lover that allowed Indigo to unclench her teeth. Looking over to where Darkstalker and Whiteout were digging into the mountain side, she spotted Fathom lending a talon by clearing out the snow piling up behind the two hybrids. She didn’t know if she would ever grow to trust the Nightwing animus but in spite of his dangerous ideas around magic he hadn’t lifted a single claw against Fathom.
Loath as I am to admit it, he’s been a better friend to Fathom than most of his tribe had been for the past year. The traitorous thought whispered.
Taking a deep breath Indigo admitted begrudgingly. “I’m sure you’re right. But if you aren’t then I swear that a snowstorm will be the least of his worries.”
Clearsight just laughed off her threat with the confidence that only a seer could afford.
~
“Alright, I think we’re just about done. Sorry to have kept you waiting but after all the hassle involved in dragging everything out here, we didn’t want to crash right before the finish line.” Darkstalker announced once he finally deemed his preparations complete. Having been sequestered outside while the twins polished off the ‘final touches', Fathom was more than eager to follow Darkstalker if it meant gaining some respite from the cold.
After crawling through the dark, unassuming entrance Fathom gasped once the inside of the little burrow was revealed. Darkstalker and Whiteout must have planned this for a long while with how well decorated it was. A multitude of gold and silver painted pinecones were threaded through hand woven vines along the walls of the cave. A pile of blankets were available for everyone after their prolonged exposure to the elements, all neatly folded atop a stone tile to protect them from the dirt. Sat beside, was a large cedar-barrel, its lid propped open as the smell of something apple and spicy wafted out of it.
In the center of the room was an oaken table, large enough that they must have convinced both of their parents' to help carry it all the way here. Resting atop, it was laden with a couple of quaint candelabras and a veritable cornucopia of food. Smoked salmon and a variety of cold, cooked meats were all on offer along one side of the table while sweeter looking pastries lined the other. Honey crusted hazelnuts and a smattering of freshly picked berries were gathered in a nicely patterned bowl, and when Fathom scooped a talonful into his maw they crunched deliciously.
With the warm lighting from the flickering of several lanterns that were interspersed throughout the room, the cave was positively cosy. The soft gasps from both Clearsight and Indigo once they filed in behind him told Fathom that he wasn’t the only one who thought so.
“This is beautiful.” Fathom let out once he got over his awe of the immaculate display before him. A slim part of him wondered how such a thing could have been kept so immaculate without magic but with nothing that blatantly evidenced such it was an easy thought to ignore.
“Of course it is, I helped make it after all! And no, before you get your claws in a twist, I didn’t use a single spell, just good old fashioned ‘Icewing ingenuity’.” No stranger to accepting compliments, Darkstalker puffed up with pride but even his egotistical display softened into something sincere when he peeked a glance at his sister. “But you should really be thanking Whiteout. It was her idea after all.”
In contrast to her usual subdued and demure demeanor, Whiteout was beaming with satisfaction at how impressed all of her gathered guests were. In truth Fathom didn’t know Whiteout all that well but even so there was something heart-warmingly endearing in seeing such unfiltered joy.
“Thank you Whiteout. I don’t know what we did to deserve it, but you’ve really outdone yourself.” Fathom offered, looking into her startlingly blue eyes to show his sincerity.
“The giving is its own reward.” Whiteout responded simply, seemingly more than content in the knowledge that she had made something worthy of such praise.
“Now come on, everyone dig in. It’d be a sin to let all this good food go to waste.” Darkstalker insisted with a flutter of his wings.
Pine nettles crunched under-talon from where they littered the floor as everyone moved to their designated spot at the table and filled the air with a pleasant scent. Scant time was wasted before everybody dug in with how hungry they were. Frolicking about in the snow was certainly fun but it sure worked up an appetite.
With five blanket covered dragons inside the temperature rose quickly until everyone was positively comfy. Tucked away in a cave all of their own there was peace to be found for a group of dragons that so often had none. No expectant queens or scowling fathers. There was no reason to worry over magic and its woes in such a space where their every need had already been met. With full bellies and light hearts slumber soon crept up undetected upon those gathered, its approach aided by the subdued howling of the winds outside.
And for a time at least, no matter what the future might hold, all inside were happy.