Chapter Text
“I’m not kidding you when I say this, but Cloud Chaser Inn has the best rum you will ever taste.”
Ram told his frilled comrade as they approached the bustling oak tavern that was built into the side of a mountain.
“Hmph. I can hardly imagine that thisss ramshackle hut could have anything better than the fireade from Dragonclaw Inn.”
Pitaya huffed. They were here on a diplomacy mission with the Ancients, and Commander Hurricane had strictly said no funny business until after the meeting, though her exact words were
“If I catch any of you goofing around or distracting our guests before the meeting, the SeaWing gardeners ‘ill be usin’ you as fertilizer for their gardens, am I understood?”,
but it was Ram's personal mission to prove that the rum at Cloud Chaser was better than what they offered at Dragonclaw. It helped that whatever magic Cosmo had used to connect their worlds meant that their visitors from Earthbread would take the forms of Pyrrhian or Pantalan dragons, or sometimes hybrids or WildWings, so no one would accidentally squish them. Pitaya, to no one's surprise and their absolute disdain, was just a really frilly RainWing. They probably were a WildWing, but they looked so much like a RainWing that everyone just assumed that.
“Well then, prepare to be amazed.”
Ram said in triumph as he opened the door to the main tavern. As usual, it was bustling with familiar faces and new ones alike, all of whom welcomed them warmly as they stepped in.
“Ai lad, I thought you said you 're gonna help with the crates this week.” The owner of the Inn snapped at him from behind the counter as she polished cups. Lacewing was an old SkyWing SilkWing hybrid from the Court of Refuge, with long quivering antennae and scales the color of cinnamon and thyme. She had four Pyrrhian wings, one pair bigger than the other, but could not breathe fire or spin silk.
“I will, Lacewing, don’t get your antennae in a twist. Two glasses of your freshest batch of rum, if you will.”
He declared as they settled on stools next to the counter. She gave them that knowing look only an elderly lady could make, but turned and reached for a shelf above. She set down the glasses in front of them when an older dragonet with butterfly wings and a SkyWing snout who was the color of raspberry lemonade came bursting from one of the back rooms covered in ash.
“Lacewing we *pant* need help. Culantro *pant* accidentally set the *pant* counter on fire.”
Lacewing threw her wings up in exasperation.
“By the Moons, Feijoa, can you and your brother do anything right? Grand dragonets, I swear. This is why Opuntia works with fire and you two cut up the herbs and meat.”
She followed Feijoa into the kitchen grumbling, leaving Ram and Pitaya to themselves. “Well, bottoms up.” He said, taking a large swig from the glass. His comrade looked down at the amber colored liquid that sloshed around the glass as they picked it up, then took a small sip.
“Well…?”
Ram asked them, poking their shoulder.
“It’sss… not bad. Actually, it might be- nevermind.”
Pitaya said abruptly, turning away from him.
“Might be what, my frilly comrade?”
He questioned with a smirk, knowing full well what they were going to say.
“It.. might be a little better than Dragonclaw Inn’sss fireade. But not entirely!”
They tried to protest as Ram flared his wings out and laughed in triumph.
“HAHAHAHA! I haven’t been wrong before and I’m not now! Haha!” Pitaya glared at him with a look that might have rivaled the one Commander Hurricane had given Harpy once during the war when he tore a tapestry in the SandWing Stronghold while goofing around.
“No need to be sour ‘bout it. C’mon, how ‘bout we forget everythin’ for a while? Lacewing, keep ‘em comin’!”
He called to the old bar keep as she returned from the kitchen, already beginning to sound drunk. Pitaya’s bitterness faded, and with a sigh, they downed the rest of their rum and called for more. And so they continued to drink into the night, becoming more drunk after each round. They left around midnight, laughing and shushing each other in a drunken manor as they landed. Pitaya had to lean on Ram as they made their way through the halls.
“I *hic* can’t see anyone in the thro-*hic*-ne room.”
Ram said as he poked his head in the room.
“Isss thisss the *hic* only way back?”
Pitaya asked, nearly tripping over their own talons.
“Unfortunatly, but luck seems to *hic* be on our side. C’mon.”
The two made their way across the throneroom as silently as they could. But as it turned out, luck was not on their side.
“And where,”
said a voice dripping with malice.
“In the name of the Moons, have you two been?”
They froze just as they reached the door on the other side of the room, and slowly turned to see Queen Ruby, Commander Hurricane, and Queen Hollyberry emerge from the shadows.
“Just some *hic* uhh, late night scouting! Right P-*hic*-pitaya?”
Ram tried to silence his hiccups, looking to his companion to back him up.
“Yesss, sssc-*hic*-outing.”
Hurricane moved towards the two till she loomed over them both, an aura of intimidation surrounding her. She gave them each a quick sniff, then recoiled in disgust and anger.
“You went and got drunk, didn't you?!”
She growled, large coils of smoke rising from her nostrils and wreathing around her horns, a sign that usually meant she was VERY very mad.
“Uhhhh, no…?”
He hiccuped again, looking up sheepishly at her.
“We had to reschedule the meeting to tomorrow.”
Queen Ruby said icily, trying to keep her composure. Queen Hollyberry looked like she couldn’t decide whether to yell at them or try to keep Hurricane from flambéing them.
“I’m really sorry,”
She said at last, turning to Queen Ruby.
“I should have been stricter with Pitaya. I assure you they will be punished.”
“Actually, Your Majesties, I think I might have just the right punishment for these two.”
Commander Hurricane growled. Ram’s heart sunk so low he thought it might plummet through the ground. He had been fortunate enough to never experience the Commander’s stricter punishments, the kind that Copper, Falcon, and Diorite usually had to suffer. The worst he usually got was a bucket of freezing water in the face. He had been fairly certain that he would be able to endure whatever punishment Queen Hollyberry had for them, but there was no guarantee he would come out of what the Commander had in store for them without a scar or two. Hurricane looked at the two Queens for approval, which they gave. Hollyberry looked relieved that she was not to be the one to punish them, and Ruby’s face revealed nothing. The pair started to sidestep away, but Ram yelped when the Commander grabbed one of his horns in her jaw and Pitaya hissed in pain when she grabbed one of their frills, then started to drag them away. By sunhigh the next day, the two looked like they had seen evil beyond comprehension and had several small pricks decorating their necks, legs, and tails, similar to snack bites.
Needless to say, they never snuck off on duty ever again during any future meetings.