Chapter Text
The sound of far-away roaring carried through the ice, a soft, haunting echo in his prison. He wished he could help his tribe, wished they’d let him out to deal with whatever was happening so he could prove himself, wished he could do anything except sit there and not know.
Food hadn’t come for a while now. It occurred to him that they might just let him waste away down here, too ashamed of him to even look at him long enough for proper punishment.
He knew his sister was somewhere in the Ice Kingdom after Queen Glory agreed to let them decide Icicle’s punishment, and somehow he’d assumed she was being kept down here- but no, he was the only dragon in the underbelly of the castle, and he was beginning to miss even her.
He would give anything to see one of his friends again. Even Kinkajou would be far superior to the agonizing nothingness he was being forced to endure. But truly, his thoughts circled back to one dragon in particular-
Beige-yellow wings and a goofy grin and eyes that felt kinder than the stars and careful talons-
He hoped Qibli would be happy he was gone. Why wouldn’t he be? He wouldn’t need to share a cave with a stupid Icewing, and he could have Moon, and wouldn’t have to pretend to like him.
Winter knew tears would just freeze on his face, but he couldn’t help it. What was a bit more ice at this point, anyways?
Qibli woke up to a strange thing pressing against his side. His first instinct was to keep his eyes shut and try to sort out the situation, clamping down on the panic that surged through his mind- first, thoughts of looming, dark dragons, and then the fear of being discovered by the Icewings. But as the sensation in his side became clearer, he noticed that it was… distinctly fuzzy.
Food? He wondered what sort of prey was idiotic enough to curl up next to a sleeping dragon. Twisting his neck, he only caught a glimpse of a dark shape nestled in the crook between his front leg and his wing. As he shifted, the thing seemed to wake up as well, shifting against his scales.
And then it let out a familiar-sounding squeak. Oh. It was a scavenger.
After Winter kept Bandit in their cave for so long, Qibli had become a bit put off of the idea of eating scavengers. Still, this one was particularly funny-looking, with an adorably tiny winter coat that was somehow still too big on the little scavenger, and what looked like furs from arctic foxes sticking out of the tops of its shoes. It slid off of Qibli’s arm and paused, looking up at him with its cute brown eyes. Qibli tilted his head at it.
“Roar,” he said, deadpan. The little monkey just took a step back towards him. It looked… smaller than most scavengers Qibli had seen.
The scavenger leaned forward against Qibli again.
“Huh.” Qibli stared at it, trying to work it out in his head, before it fully clicked. His scales were warm. He was a Sandwing after all, their body temperature was higher than any other dragon- which was probably why he hadn't frozen to death yet.
Speaking of which. Qibli turned his head and reached for one of the branches he'd gotten during the day and promptly set it on fire, making sure to position it at the entrance so it didn't use all the oxygen. Night had fallen outside, and Qibli could barely feel his wings- if he was going to fly, it was going to need to wait for them to warm up.
He heard startled squeaking and noticed the little scavenger clambering over his tail to get closer to the fire he’d started. It must be cold, Qibli mused. He couldn’t understand why animals with so little fur would choose to live so far north, but he wasn’t one to judge. The scavenger shuffled to a corner of the small cave and then inched back towards the fire, a twig in its paws. Qibli tilted his head at it. The monkey slowly stuck the stick into the embers, and after a moment, it pulled it out- very much on fire.
The scavenger let out a series of high-pitched squeals and waved the flaming stick around for a moment before suddenly turning and scampering into the dark, low crack in the back of the rock. Qibli shook his head, silently laughing at the little creature. Winter would love you, he thought. He’d have to tell the Icewing about it when they made it back to the desert.
Fanning the flames with his breath, Qibli started to feel more like a dragon and less like an icicle. He occasionally stuck his snout into the darker corners of the cave, looking for the little scavenger, but it seemed to have truly left. Something about that made Qibli unreasonably sad.
He waited until he could feel the knife under his wing again and his talons didn’t prickle from the cold, and then he tied his bag around his neck and stamped out his fire, wincing when the frigid wind hit his scales again at full force. The world outside was dark; two of the three moons were new and the other was a crescent, barely spilling any silvery light over the snow. Perfect.
Sandy wings unfurled at the edge of the tree line. Black eyes scanned the snowy tundra ahead, and in an instant, he was aloft. Qibli knew what he was trying to do was lunacy. Three moons, he probably wouldn’t make it out of the arctic. But there had never really been a doubt in his mind that this is what he wanted to do, something in him knowing that without Winter, he would crumble.
The twisted spires of the Ice Palace came into view at the same time Qibli was spotted by an Icewing. The pale blue dragon’s roar of surprise was drowned out in Qibli’s ears by the knowledge that Winter was right there. Just a little further. He beat his wings harder, using the moments of confusion he struck in the ice dragons he passed to fly by them.
Best case scenario, he figured he would sneak into the castle, but as he saw how swarming it was with icy scales and wings, he scrapped that idea. Considering the alternatives, Qibli narrowed his options down to two: request an audience with the Queen and convince her to let me see Winter, or get thrown in the dungeon and try to break out from there. If he was being honest, the first option would probably lead to the second regardless, but he was always willing to try a diplomatic route.
What do Ice Queens like? Don’t know much about Snowfall, only been queen for a little over a month. Winter’s her cousin, maybe she’s worried about more challengers? He frowned, trying to remember Icewing succession rules, but dodging guards became harder and harder. Alright Qibli, just focus on not dying. Good first step.
As he drew closer to the towering crystalline building, more silvery dragons flapped up to stop him, some carrying spears made of either a grey metal or actual ice. They looked more ceremonial than anything, but they weren’t dull by any definition, and were best avoided. His maneuvers to dodge them were resulting in closer and closer calls though, and he could hear roars of alert rising from the courtyard in front of him.
Camel dung, he swore in his head, twisting away from as many claws as he could. Serrated talons swiped at his face. Years of living with his siblings had trained him well, but he was cold and tired, and they grazed across the side of his neck. A stinging sensation accompanied two small cuts across his scales, and he flapped up higher.
As Qibli panted in the air, trying to avoid the furious looking pale purple dragon in front of him, a flash of white in the night sky next to him caught his eye just in time to see another Icewing flying right at him.
She slammed into his side, frigid scales against his, making him shudder and lose balance. The two tumbled to the snow below, just outside the palace walls. He thrashed around and tried to stand up as his assailant wrestled him to the ground, the familiar sound of frostbreath accumulating in her throat making him tuck his wings to his sides and roll away.
Icy wind and frost blasted the snow he’d just been lying on. He only had a moment to celebrate, though, before more talons hit him from the back, pushing him forward onto the hard ice. Wingbeats filled the air as Icewings landed around him. Well, Qibli thought, Thorn would be calling me a lizard-brain about now.
Something hard and cold hit the back of his head.