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The royal gardens were practically silent.
Everything was quiet, from the mute trickling of the usually peaceful river that intersected the large park, to the hushed, bright blue-and-orange tropical birds that flitted nervously in the shaded tree canopy overhead. In the mid-day humidity, it felt as if everything was holding its breath, waiting for Queen Glory’s final verdict.
“This papaya is disgusting,” Glory seemed to snap from a trance, glancing up from the orange fruit as if she’d only just realized she was eating it, finally done carefully mulling over the flavor of the large bite she had taken. Some scales on her wings and neck involuntarily flashed a pale green and red, “You’d think for a specially cultivated batch they’d be half decent, it's almost as if nothing in this pathetic rainforest can do its job properly.”
Glory and Deathbringer sat across from each other on one of the four log-based picnic tables in the royal gardens. They were in a relatively private spot off to the corner, and a leafy parcel overhead cast a shadow in a circle around them, further secluding their location from the rest of the rainforest. In between them resided a stone plate and the iconic orange-yellow fruit.
“They don't look that bad,” Deathbringer offered, leaning back. “Watery, sure, but if the cooks tossed it in something spicy, no one would notice the fruit. Probably. I think.”
Staring holes into the fruit as if it has personally betrayed her, Glory spoke, “That's the thing, they need to be perfect on their own. The recipe calls for them to be center stage, and all the desserts for tonight’s dinner revolve around it,” Glory’s wings drooped as she massaged her temples, “Have I ever told you how I've never even liked papaya in the first place? Grandeur just insisted they’d be perfect.” Greyish-purple began to slowly overtake her scales like ink spilling on a scroll as she spoke in a low, nasally voice.
“‘I must say, Glory, back in my prime days of dragonet tomfoolery,’” Glory’s impression of Grandeur was horrendously bad, comically so, but her pompous use of hand movement almost made up for the accuracy, “‘We’d only ever get the slightest glance at the royal tarts once a year during the summer solstice festival. I must say, if you want to impress those Skywings, I'm lucky enough to know a cook or two who still has the original recipe!’ She kept insisting they'd be a perfect display of classic Rainwing history in the form of a delicious dessert, or something.”
“Honestly, that is a beautiful point Grandeur is making. We should serve a twelve-page scroll on culturally significant Rainwing songwriters, and the most ground-breaking precedents set in rainwing politics while we’re at it as well, for the sake of preserving classic Rainwing history,” Glory gave him a questioning head tilt with a hint of a smile, devastatingly gorgeous as she always was, at least in Deathbringer's very relevant opinion,“You know, so that Ruby has something to focus on rather than the taste of the papaya. Maybe we can get her to fall asleep reading it, too.”
Glory couldn't help but laugh at his stupid joke, “You genius. Actually, now that you’ve brought it up, maybe we could put something in the appetizer to knock everyone out, and once the Skywings wake up, we could skip the papaya and pretend we finished our dinner. And for the time being, me and you could escape and do something actually fun,” before Deathbringer could bask in how easily Glory spoke of them spending time together and definitely tease her for it, she continued her imaginary scenario.
“What if,” Glory’s back suddenly straightened in mock seriousness, a look of pure talon-biting fear on her face, “What if, after just a singular bite of the tart, Ruby passes out in disgust. And her guards, thinking we actually poisoned her, set our entire kingdom up in flames.”
“Huh. Makes me wonder why we decided to invite a bunch of fire breathing skywings to our highly flammable forest home,” that comment got Deathbringer a light whack from Glory’s tail, which he admittedly deserved, although he still played his theatrics, “Ah! My queen, you wound me! Without sparing a second to hear me out, nonetheless.”
With the faint sound of carefully-placed footsteps approaching and a set of neon birds flying away in panic, Glory realized the arrival of Royal Food Sourcer… or whatever the dragon insisted her title was, Sasanqua. She had requested that Glory come over and approve the papaya before the Kitchen confirmed the meal plan for the dinner.
Glory rolled her eyes, making a final quip to Deathbringer before Sasanqua was in earshot, “And did you decide to hear me out when I told you to stop calling me ‘your queen’ like that? You're practically mocking my title. I could have you hanged, or worse. Watch out.” To add on to her sentiment, she teasingly provoked him by snapping at the air in front of his face before turning to walk towards their kingdom's esteemed Food Sourcer.
Deathbringer rolled his eyes with a grin but he remained at the table, listening in on the conversation while prodding at the papaya with a talon. Curiosity overtaking any sense of reason, he delicately picked a piece up, and almost regretted eating it once he realized it really was as bad as Glory claimed. All water-y and like…well, like it was trying its hardest to be a papaya, but was sadly falling more in the territory of an overcooked squash.
Once Deathbringer realized he was beginning to feel pity for a fruit, he wiped the expression of disgust on his face and returned his attention to Glory’s and the other Rainwing’s conversation, but the two of them were already walking towards the table. Glory’s face was all crinkled in the way usually did when she tried to find words to express her harsh opinions on a topic delicately, and her hushed, quick talking told Deathbringer all he needed to know about what they were discussing.
The other rainwing’s light pink talons frantically picked up the plate, “Again, your Majesty, I'm sorry about the noncompliant papayas, so very sorry. I’ll have an in-depth discussion with the rest of the Sourcers quickly to see what we can do, but please wait here while we plan our next steps.”
The rainwing’s voice was almost as light as the way she scurried off. Now that they were alone again, Deathbringer spoke, “Maybe I should get you to eat these more often,” his face titled innocently, giving her his signature smirk, “You look adorable, when you scrunch your snout like that.”
Although she found his remark rather cliché, Glory’s scales turned pink near her frills in surprise. Deathbringer's smile widened, he found it even more adorable, how she fought the color viciously, “You just enjoy seeing me in pain, you pathetic dragon.”
“Wouldn’t be your absolute favorite, concerningly handsome, amazingly perfect bodyguard if I didn't."
Glory huffed a laugh at his sarcasm, “Actually, now that I think about it, I don't feel very safe with you hanging about, so the only concerning thing about you is how long overdue your termination is,” her eyes sparkled, "It's also pretty concerning how much you talk, so I think it would be fitting to cut your tongue while we’re at it.”
Deathbringer let out a bark of laughter as he teased, “Promote? I think I heard im getting a promotion. Why, my queen, I ’d be honored!” Deathbringer knew how much she despised him calling her that, it was obvious now when she rolled her eyes and failed to get a word in, “But what position could possibly be higher than one I currently have? Personal body guard, first advisor to the queen, and all?”
Glory’s wings were about to fully transform into the same pink as the Royal Food Sourcer’s, and Glory, yet again, fought desperately against the color as she sensed Sasanqua approaching. As she collected herself, she tucked the question in her mind to fully unpack what Deathbringer was really insinuating at a later time. The way he was annoyingly tapping a claw to his chin with a wide yet knowing grin, the type that read as a teasing I've got you now (Or a clear you can run but you can't hide, depending on an onlookers perspective) was forever etched into her mind as well.
Glory breathed a sigh in the momentary relief Sasanqua provided, and the quiet dragon proceeded to spew information about how there were more batches of recorded papaya trees further into the forest. After explaining something about a fruit-searching protocol Glory had no idea she green-lit and agreeing to have them located and brought back for testing the next day, Sasanqua quickly departed. Glory spoke first as both of them watched her pink scales disappear into the tree canopy overhead, “Let's just hope the new papayas are decently sweet, and not, well, disgusting."
“Stop worrying,” Deathbringer approached her from behind, resting a steady claw on her shoulder when he noticed how tense she was, “The cooks have the food figured out and work with years of experience, trust them. And I, for one, quite like the seriousness the Royal Kitchen apparently works with,” Deathbringer referenced Sasanqua, hoping to lighten the moment.
Glory’s head didn't turn to face his, and her wings still drooped, so he continued, “Truthfully, Glory. This so-called staple dessert of a mid-tier fruit isn't going to have that much of an impact on the Skywings- and on Ruby's- perception of us, even if Grandeur likes them more than any sane dragon should. And besides, sweetness, no one is going to be able to focus on the papayas with you in the room anyways, and you can trust me on that because I actually have first-hand experience-”
Glory's head snapped back, flustered expression obvious, “What did you just call me?”
Before even letting him open his mouth to explain himself, Glory gave Deathbringer a half-hearted shove with her wing, minorly imbalancing him, “You- You sap. I swear on the moons, If I hear that name leave your mouth one more time, I'm seriously going to consider the tongue-cutting thing.”
“Alright, alright,” Deathbinger held his hands up in mock defeat, chuckling at the ground before giving Glory a mischievous sidelong glance, “Whatever you say…Papaya.”
“...And now you're referring to me as that disgusting fruit? Nobody's laughing,” Glory rolled her eyes in the most regal way one could with scales that were already shifting to pink, and she stalked off, hiding her smile from him, “I don't have time for your incessant rambling, Deathbringer. A very busy queen has got to finalize the color scheme for the cloth with that small business by the central river now.”
Deathbringer was fully aware she intended for him to follow, and he did, acting hurt as he lagged slowly next to her with a pathetic attempt at explaining his nickname as if it was some sort of master plan, "Don't incessant rambling me. If you don't want to be called sweetness, naturally you’d have to be the opposite. Hence the papaya. So excuse a dragon for trying his best to figure out the perfect nickname for his queen.”
Glory suddenly halted and spun around. Deathbringer almost collided into her, and he barely stopped his body from tripping into Glory's at the very last second, resulting in them standing chest-to-chest. Although he hadn't expected her to stop and didn't appreciate how she almost got herself hurt, the challenging glint in her eyes and their closeness was not something Deathbringer was necessarily complaining about. Glory's voice followed quietly, mocking yet in that way of hers that demanded the attention of even the sun itself, “Your queen does not need to be referred to by any pathetic nickname your unimaginative, sloth-speed mind comes up with.”
Deathbringer gave her the smuggest grin he could muster before accepting his fate as a dead dragon in favor of his next words, “You're the one who didn't want me calling you queen, Papaya.”