Hi! For those of you who don't know me, my name is Embersky! I was just working for like 2 hours on my Warriors fanfic *shameless self-advertising* and I was tired of writing about cats. I just recently re-read the first three WoF books, and remembered my love for Peril. And Kestrel.

Aaaaandddd…

This was born. Read, review, and enjoy!

The chains were, honestly, a bit unwarranted for one SkyWing. When one took into account the cage, and the hundreds of eyes watching her at all times, the measures taken to restrain Kestrel were downright silly.

Not that she found it very funny.

Kestrel, as a rule, disliked almost everything Pyrrhia had to offer. She hated the war, the dragons, the land…but she especially hated the SkyWing kingdom. It stirred some memories that she would have preferred to keep buried. And there was also the fact that she was one of the most wanted dragons there, according to Scarlet's mad logic, at least.

Kestrel also despised losing. Naturally competitive from birth, the instinct to be the best only multiplied with age. For most of her life, that meant playing a role as the queen's most faithful soldier.

Now, all that instinct did was make her want to rip someone's tail off. She was a prisoner. Scarlet had captured her. And an obnoxious hum in her mind reminded her with – was that guilt? – that the dragonets had been taken as well. She had failed. That had been her one job, for over half a decade. Keep the dragonets safe in the cave. Don't let them escape; don't let them get hurt.

But it wasn't as though the dragonets would mean anything, in the end. Kestrel had never put much faith in the absurd mumblings that NightWings called prophecies, but even if she did believe that five idiotic little dragonets could make a difference, there remained one simple fact.

They were the wrong dragonets. The MudWing, NightWing, and SeaWing were fine, if unnaturally attached to one another, but how was a disgustingly cheerful, deformed little SandWing supposed to stop a war?

But the worst part, by far, was their SkyWing.

Or the fact that they didn't have one.

When the only suitable SkyWing egg, along with its retriever, was destroyed, they had no choice but to get the fifth dragonet from wherever they could. Kestrel had suggested that an IceWing would suffice, or even another egg from one of the previous tribes.

But no. The frivolous SeaWing, Webs, who was a joint caretaker with her, decided that a RainWing egg would be the most convenient. A RainWing.

A RainWing that, for all the time Kestrel had known her, had done nothing but grumble and mope and sleep and occasionally converse with the other dragonets.

But as ineffective as the five dragonets might have been, the fact remained that she had been charged with the protection of the Dragonets of Destiny (or three and a half of them anyway), and she had failed.

It also didn't help that she was in a cage, draped with an excessive amount of chains, and on trial for a crime that she had tried to erase any memory of.

Scarlet enjoyed the occasional trial, which, at least, was apparent from the faintly amused smirk that she wore like an accessory.

But, to everyone else, the trials were nothing but a waste of time. Kestrel had no doubt as to what the result would be. She could remember from her days as a soldier: the dragon would always be guilty, because he or she had managed to anger the queen, and no one was allowed to displease Scarlet.

And Kestrel had certainly displeased her. Scarlet never forgot, even if the crime in question had taken place over six years ago.

And, as far as Kestrel had buried certain memories, underneath layers of scorn and a one-tracked determination to do her job and do it well, she couldn't help remembering, as Scarlet argued with the elderly SkyWing who was her supposed defender.

Because as senile as he probably was, the SkyWing recited a pretty accurate version of what happened seven years ago…

That egg is far too big to be normal.

Kestrel couldn't get the thought out of her mind. She couldn't from the moment she laid it. She supposed that the expected response would be to claim that she loved it just the way it was, but she couldn't help but feel an inexplicable shame. Queen Scarlet had allowed her to take a turn as a breeder, but Kestrel had let her down.

The dragonet would probably come out deformed in some way, and Kestrel wouldn't care, except that a deformed dragonet wouldn't be able to serve the queen properly. To other dragons, Kestrel knew, this wouldn't pose as much of an issue. As long as the dragon was strong and loyal, no one would care if it came out a little odd.

Well, no one except Kestrel.

She had served Queen Scarlet with the utmost devotion since her own hatching. She had risen up the ranks to become one of the queen's best soldiers. And, so help her, any descendants of hers would do the same!

Which was why the size of the egg infuriated her so much.

After all, it wasn't ridiculously huge; it was only about the size of one and a half average dragon eggs at hatching day. Other dragons had been born from eggs just as large and suffered no ill effects.

Still, such a large egg wasn't considered normal, and if something was wrong with it…!

Well, she'd find out soon enough. That had been the whole reason she'd woken up and clouded her mind with anxieties. The egg was just due to hatch, and she had been woken by the sound of it shuddering against her scales, making the oddest rhythm as the shell clacked against her stomach.

Faint cracks, a stark white against the deep crimson of the eggshell, appeared in a nearly hypnotic spiraling pattern from the egg's center. As she watched, tense with apprehension, the cracks widened and elongated, until the egg appeared to be made out of a soft white skin, layered with uneven red scales.

Then, all at once, the entire thing shattered, chips of the shell being flung across the cave. The white material tore open as well, revealing…

Two tiny dragonets.

Two.

Well, that explains the size. Kestrel cracked a rare grin. Her dragonet – no, her dragonets – were fine! The egg was so large because there were two of them!

She reached out a claw to help the smaller one sit up. It was a male, and was perhaps a little smaller than usual, but he had both his eyes and all four clawed feet, so she was satisfied. He was a ruddy yellow color, with copper shading around the tail and wingtips. Dragonets are born with their eyes open, and Kestrel was eager to see if he'd inherited her sharp yellow-orange gaze that SkyWings of lower rank so often cowered from.

She gently nudged his side, for he was hatched with his back to her, only to draw back with a startled gasp.

It can't be…

She poked him again with an experimental claw, and her suspicions were confirmed.

He was cool to the touch.

SkyWings, like SandWings, naturally radiated a certain mild heat, and the hatchling had spent his life so far in an incubated egg. There was no reason that he shouldn't be warm, unless…

She carefully prodded the other hatchling in the egg. This one was a female, and she was quite a bit larger and stronger-looking than her twin. With vibrant reddish-orange scales, she certainly made for a more stunning picture than her brother. And when Kestrel touched her, the hatchling instantly thrashed so wildly that Kestrel feared that she would crush her brother. (She convinced herself that she only cared what happened to them because they could be two more dragons to serve Queen Scarlet until the end, not because they were her hatchlings.)

The female twisted around and wrapped her thick red tail around Kestrel's claws, blinking up at her with unnerving azure eyes. They vaguely reminded Kestrel of a bright, clear sky, but the color was just a bit too dark and rich for that. No, the color of the hatchling's eyes more closely represented the swirl of bright blue that could be found inside a searing flame, visible for a mere moment before disappearing. Kestrel would be lying if she said that the color didn't frighten her a little. SkyWings generally had eyes shaded on the warmer side of the color spectrum, ranging from a gold the color of SandWing scales to a muddy claret hue.

But, regardless of the eye color, Kestrel was relieved to see that, not only was this dragonet clearly strong and healthy, but she was also surrounded in an aura of heat. But as the hatchling clutched Kestrel's claws closer to her body, her tail and belly gave of a flare of heat that had Kestrel withdrawing her leg, alarmed.

Yes, it was as she had suspected. Not only was Kestrel's son lacking in fire, but her daughter seemed to have been born with twice as much.

It struck Kestrel, suddenly, what the punishment for having hatchlings such as these entailed.

Death to them both.

Kestrel, having served Queen Scarlet so well for so many years, would be let off without punishment, on the condition that she never again entered the breeding program, but that suddenly seemed insubstantial.

Her hatchlings would die. It wasn't their fault that one was born with too much fire and one with too little! But the life would be torn from them as though they were prey, just because her son would always be too weak and her daughter to strong.

It wasn't fair!

Kestrel recognized the sharp stinging in her chest as the beginning stages of grief. Three moons, she was already mourning her hatchlings, less than an hour after they emerged from their egg!

Wait – mourning? No, she didn't care about what happened to them.

She didn't!

She couldn't. No, Queen Scarlet would be right to kill them. They would only be a danger to the welfare of the tribe.

But there was still that instinct that told her to snatch up her hatchlings and hide them far, far away, where they could never come to harm.

The instinct was so unexpected and – dare she think it – motherly, that Kestrel felt physically sick. There were two sides warring within her; half of her wanted to grovel in front of Queen Scarlet and beg for forgiveness for being the mother of two such useless hatchlings before offering them both up for slaughter. But another part of her, that was growing stronger each heartbeat, wanted to take her hatchlings and disappear, to raise them in safety.

Her claws moved without the permission of the rational side of her mind. Before she knew what was happening, she had gathered up both hatchlings in her claws and was halfway out the cave mouth. Hopefully, she would be out of Queen Scarlet's reach long before it was discovered that she was missing. No – not Queen Scarlet anymore. By choosing to flee with her hatchlings, and therefore break an important SkyWing law, Kestrel was officially giving up any claim she had to belong to the SkyWings. She was effectively exiling herself. And thus, Scarlet would no longer be her queen.

What am I doing?

Before the thought had even fully formed, Kestrel shook it out of her mind. Her body had made her decision for her, and there was no time for her mind – and the worries it would bring – to get in her way. She needed to move quickly and silently if she was to have a chance of escape.

Her hatchlings were the only things she took. Clutching one in each talon, she swooped out of her solitary cave and towards the Diamond Spray River, just a few minutes flight from her current location. She hoped that by following the river, she would be able to make it out of the Sky Kingdom while maintaining a steady source of water for her and her hatchlings.

Another use for the river came to light as she continued on: the chilly water would sooth her burning left talons, where she held her daughter – who was continuously growing warmer as time passed, to the point of being nearly uncomfortably hot for Kestrel. The water would be a reprieve, a resting point for her to gather her bearings after her impromptu departure.

But when she touched down next to the shimmering banks, as the first rays of dawn broke over the mountains on the horizon, Kestrel could swear that she heard wingbeats…coming from somewhere behind her.

She really hoped that it would just be a passing SkyWing nobody on patrol, or even an invader from another tribe. Anybody but Scarlet.

Please, by the three moons, anybody but Scarlet.

As luck would have it, Scarlet was the first of four dragons to emerge from the cloud cover. Following the gold-decked SkyWing queen were two guards – and a haughty male soldier that she recognized as her mate during her time as a breeder.

Of course!

How could she have been so stupid and reckless? It was custom that, when a SkyWing egg is due to hatch, the biological father visited every few nights to bring prey to the mother, who wasn't to leave the cave until the hatching. She held no particular affection for her breeding partner – by the moons, she didn't even know his name! – and she was positive that the apathy was wholeheartedly returned.

His visits had completely slipped her minds, but when he had entered the cave, likely moments after she had left, he would have no qualms about sounding the alarm instantly.

Kestrel felt faintly sick. Instead of focusing on her imminent capture, all she could think about was that smug grin on his face. Surely, after her execution, he would be promoted to one of Scarlet's advisors for his discovery of Kestrel's betrayal.

The thought made her want to retch. Instead, she grabbed the hatchlings in her claws, ignoring the searing heat from her daughter's scales, and prepared to take flight. But with a hatchling gripped with each of her forelegs, she took too long to find her balance, and Scarlet's two guards landed on either side of her. Neither of them touched her, but she was sure that they would be able to claw out some vital organ or another if she tried to escape.

Scarlet glided down in front of Kestrel, an easy grace in her flight that one seemed to gain when layered in jewels. Her expression unreasonable, she beckoned for the final dragon to land beside her – the dragon Kestrel only knew as her breeding partner.

"Well," Scarlet sighed, drawing out the syllable lazily. "It was quite the disappointment to have to wake this early, only to discover that my most loyal soldier has attempted to betray me."

The queen grinned suddenly, without humor, flashing her ivory fangs in a clear threat. "Although I must thank Spark, here, for alerting me. He will be rewarded." She flicked her tail at the breeder – Spark – who sneered at Kestrel.

Scarlet continued, "Isn't it delightful? A traitor and a hero, all in one night! Very entertaining. A pity, though, Kestrel, dear, that you must be marked as a traitor and put to trial. But it will be fun to deal with your hatchling" –she glanced at the scaly lumps at Kestrel's claws–"or, pardon me, hatchlings. Oh, and you can go." She directed the last sentence at Spark, who spared one more mocking glance for Kestrel before taking off in the direction of the palace.

Kestrel's teeth bared at Scarlet in an imitation of a snarl, but she was more concerned with keeping her hatchlings from the claws of any of the dragons in her company.

"You won't get either of them," she growled. "You have no right."

Scarlet laughed, but there was a distinct higher pitch in her voice that Kestrel recognized as desperation. She was pretty sure that her own words were practically smothered with it.

Scarlet tilted her head at Kestrel. "That's where you're wrong. I have the only right. I am the queen, you know, and you're just a soldier, and now not even that. But," her voice was still pitching higher, and it gave Kestrel a brief spark of satisfaction that she could drive the Scarlet to desperation. "But I might be willing to offer you a deal."

She stepped closed to Kestrel, and it was all the dragoness to do not to step backwards. Instead, she scowled at Scarlet. The queen had her cornered and out of options – whatever deal she proposed would do nothing to help Kestrel, only entertain her Majesty.

"You see, I like you, Kestrel. You were one of my best soldiers, and I thought that your loyalty was unwavering." At this, Scarlet sighed pitifully.

Kestrel bared her teeth. She refused to lose this small battle by allowing herself to feel guilt.

"I believe you just had a momentary lapse of judgment. I don't want to lose such a loyal worker, and you don't want to lose your hatchlings. We can do this civilly; I would be willing to grant you mercy right now, if you only kill one of your hatchlings. I'd even let the other live!"

Kestrel hated the option, especially with Scarlet practicing her Aren't-I-Generous face just feet away. But what other choice did she have? It was actually a surprisingly lenient decision. Kestrel knew that she was privileged, being one of Scarlet's favorite soldiers, and that not everyone would be able to escape this alive.

But she would be alive and keep one of her hatchlings from being killed. If she refused, she and the hatchlings would all die within minutes, with the guards so close on either side. The guilt would stay with her forever, but –

Before she could talk herself out of it, she grabbed her son – without fire, he would likely die within a year anyway – and snapped his neck with a sharp jerk.

Hearing the snap of bone made her want to retch, but she tossed the body in the river before her deed could sink in.

"There," she said to Scarlet, hating the way her voice came out rough with shock and grief. "I did as you said. Now let us go back."

Scarlet nodded, uncharacteristically quiet. Suddenly, she snapped, "Show some respect. I'm your queen. You can't order me around!" She turned her attention to the guards. "Wasn't she being disrespectful?" Both of the guards nodded hastily.

"Very disrespectful, My Queen," one of the guards agreed, and the other nearly dislocated his neck from nodding too violently.

Scarlet paused for only a moment more. "I've changed my mind…Kill the other hatchling."

"What?" Kestrel roared. "You can't do that!"

Scarlet shrugged. "Do it if she won't," she told the guards.

Before either of them could move to follow the abrupt order, Kestrel snatched up her remaining hatchling and prepared to fly, but, in the time she had been talking with Scarlet, the heat emanating from the hatchling had become unbearable. Kestrel had barely taken her first wingbeat when she was forced to drop her hatchling. Acting on instinct, she plunged forward and let the river water wash over her talons, then lifted off into the sky with a few powerful strokes of her wings.

She was past the opposite bank of the river when she truly realized what she had done. She swiveled in midair, and saw that the guards and Scarlet weren't pursuing. Instead, they had gathered around her daughter, hiding her from Kestrel's view.

It would be suicide to return to get her now, Kestrel told herself. Besides, even if I could…

She gazed down at the fresh blisters on her palms. No, even if she could return and get her daughter out alive, she wouldn't make it anywhere before being forced to drop her again.

She hadn't just killed her son, but her daughter too. Scarlet would never let her survive. Kestrel had killed in the war, of course, but there was something different about being responsible for the deaths of your own hatchlings.

As she flew toward the mountains, Kestrel contemplated her options. She could live alone and tribeless, or…she could join the Talons of Peace. Fools, the lot of them, but at least she would get food and shelter.

And a distraction.

The scene was playing in her mind again and again. She was sure that if she had to watch herself kill one hatchling and abandon the other one more time, she would go mad.

Yes, if nothing else, the Talons of Peace would provide something to distract her until the end of her days…

And here she was, seven years later. Caught, finally, by Scarlet, who would have her revenge. Scarlet hated it when someone escaped punishment, and would do her best to bring them down…even several years later.

Kestrel had been pulled out of her memory by the silence. That old SkyWing had stopped yapping. Scarlet had stopped her accusations. The crowd had stopped murmuring. It took her a moment to see why.

On the edge of the arena where her trial was taking place, a bright crimson dragon had landed, barely older than a dragonet. And – was that smoke twining around her scales?

But it wasn't the smoke that provoked her roar. No, it was the unmistakable gleam of deep blue in the dragon's gaze, recognizable even from far away.

And Kestrel roared, and, for the first time in nearly seven years, felt a twinge of hope.

"Oh yes," Scarlet said maliciously, an ugly grin twisting her face. "Didn't I mention she's still alive? And working for me?

And Kestrel could only roar through the excessive chains binding her mouth closed.

Welllllllllll…

That was fun. :)

I guess that I could continue this if you guys want, but it'd be a two-shot at most. Tell me what you thought, even if it's criticism.

Oh, and for those of you who are reading my other stuff… I PROMISE that I'll update within the month.

Bye! Don't forget to make my day with a review!