"Keep moving, you damned lazy maggots! I don't need to deal with any of you slacking off today!"
Redstripe sorely wished he could shut the overseer up, his claws just itching to reach out and strangle the vile drake, with his equally vile words and vile attitude, but he was currently too busy hauling extra building materials and was much too exhausted from hauling heavy loads for hours on end to do any real harm anyway. That, and a strong sense of self-preservation stayed his hand. A sense of self-preservation that had been sorely tested these past several weeks, ever since their new overseer came in.
When the last overseer had died (choking on some food at a party, funnily enough), Redstripe had quietly rejoiced, having nothing to say but, "Good riddance, asshole."
Most of the other workers had joined in, laughing at the dead drake's expense, even throwing a small party for the occasion. Of course, the drinks selection could have been better, but with the (rather petty) laws restricting Silkwings from legally obtaining any quality hard liquor, they had to make do with shitty "legal" Silkwing wine and (illegal) homemade moonshine. Still, it had been one of the happiest things he'd experienced in years at that point, just drinking and laughing with his friends over the death of their terrible boss.
Unfortunately, as it turned out, it was quite a premature celebration on Redstripe's part. Their new overseer turned out to be even worse than the last one. Redstripe didn't think the last one had ever been this active in trying to "motivate" his Silkwing labourers by way of bombarding them with threats, insults, and on some days, when he was in an especially bad mood, actual physical abuse.
Sure, their last boss had chronically and massively underpaid them, worked them to the bone and then some, acted like they were barely worth his time, like speaking to them taxed him more than it should have, and asked them to do overtime on seemingly random days for no apparent reason, without extra payment, but at least he didn't go out of his way to demonstrate how much contempt he had for Silkwings, unlike how their current supervisor was doing now.
And, oh, how Redstripe loathed him. If what level of hate Redstripe had for their late overseer could be described as "simmering", he was sure the level of hatred he had for the replacement one was several notches over boiling point and well into steaming. And judging from the subtle, vitriol-filled side glares most of his fellow workers directed at him, Redstripe was far from the only one with those sentiments.
The only reason he hadn't already lashed out at the bastard of a drake, aside from his sense of self-preservation, was because he'd managed to vent his anger and frustration on the walls of several back alleys around his workplace after hours and outside the public eye, so nobody could possibly witness him violently punching the treestuff walls, fuelled by the force of his rage.
Of course, it hurt a lot, and did absolutely nothing to alleviate his current situation, but at least it gave him a way to effectively release the emotional pressure within him without getting either himself or his colleagues into trouble, as well as calming him down enough before the next day of work. Losing himself in fantasies of all the creative ways he'd get revenge on his hateful overseer helped significantly too. At least, that was how it worked, under his old supervisor.
Now, Redstripe was finding it harder and harder to contain himself, the hate and frustration still roiling beneath the surface no matter how much he punched the walls, his emotions threatening to spill over into irreversible actions with some very severe consequences.
After all, in Bloodworm Hive, physically assaulting your superiors (who, funnily enough, were always Hivewings) was grounds for state-sanctioned torture of different kinds, depending on the guards' creativity. And that wasn't counting the (at least) 12 months of imprisonment in a dark, dank cell in Gadfly Prison, where conditions were said to be horrific, to say the least.
Prisoners who went in (usually Silkwings) rarely ever came out of that place, and when they did, they were always broken to the point of being virtually non-functioning, unable to do much more than simply stare blankly into space and respond with sounds rather than words without assistance.
That was Bloodworm Hive for you. A most perfect city… if your definition of "perfect" was being able to abuse and exploit any Silkwing in any way, shape or form, nonstop, day after day, without any repercussions whatsoever. And to Redstripe, it seemed the vast majority of the Hivewings in Bloodworm Hive had that very definition of "perfect". He hated it. A lot. And he was this close to launching himself at the damned overseer, claws out and aiming for his throat, just to get some more substantial release.
It wasn't just that Redstripe hated his new boss though. He hated his job too; doing nothing but lugging heavy sacks of stone, brick, treestuff and mortar ingredients from dawn until dusk, driving himself to the point of exhaustion day after day, for pitiful wages, in less-than-comfortable conditions, all just to help construct Lady Bloodworm's latest vanity project.
Being a poor, underpaid and abused menial labourer working to help build things that were, frankly, completely useless and for show, had been far from what Redstripe had wanted out of his life, but such was life as a Silkwing in Bloodworm Hive; you were only ever good enough to either serve the upper- or middle-class Hivewings, or do the jobs that were necessary, but very much unwanted by the more privileged tribe.
Redstripe, unfortunately, got the latter, though he highly doubted he would have enjoyed having to serve a Hivewing aristocrat or businessdrake in their posh, ornate mansions, having to act all submissive and obedient while being constantly surrounded by reminders of how completely unfair it was for the Silkwings, wealth-wise. Not to mention the numerous horror stories he'd heard of some of the cruel punishments Hivewings would give their Silkwing servants for even slightly messing up with anything, be it cleaning or cooking.
At least being a mere labourer meant he could escape other Hivewings' notice, and therefore fume in peace, his demeanour free from being scrutinised and found wanting, leading to undoubtedly severe punishment. It still sucked ass, though.
Redstripe would have given anything and everything to get far, far away from the place. From all of the hives. Even better if he could find a way of enacting sweet, sweet vengeance on not just his cruel boss, but the Hivewings in general; the Hivewings who were so content to turn a blind eye to the Silkwings' plight, while the Silkwings who were actually building their opulent homes and entertainment venues worked themselves ragged for a meagre sum; who were so content, living in their luxurious mansions of stone and treestuff, probably having feasts daily, while the Silkwings lived in relative squalor, living in simple silk web constructs hanging outside the hive, struggling to make ends meet, barely able to stave off starvation with the piss poor wages given to them (though Redstripe would always consider the silk webs more homely than the over-decorated and oversized monstrosities the well-to-do Hivewings liked to live in).
As it was, Redstripe simply focused on living life one step at a time, putting one talon in front of the other, taking whatever life or the Hivewings threw at him, and just moving along with it. Much as it irked him, he held himself back from violently jumping his Hivewing boss. As bad as it was, having to suffer the constant verbal, and sometimes physical, abuse from his overseer was probably nothing compared to a whole year in Gadfly Prison, if the tales of what it was like were true.
Considering how bad Bloodworm Hive already was in the public space, and he knew someone who'd done their time in that prison, Redstripe was most definitely not willing to find out for himself.
So he kept his head down, and toiled away, bringing the requested bags of materials everyday without fail. All the while, Redstripe's blood continued to boil at the incessant abuse he and his fellow workers were suffering under their boss.
Luckily, he'd found a solution regarding his anger issues; he'd gotten a number of bottles of moonshine from one of his worker friends, and drank from them after work each day. Never enough to get drunk, of course, just enough to take the edge off and let him fall asleep more easily. For a time, it worked, curbing his increasingly violent desires regarding his boss, allowing him to get through work without incident. Then the orphaned dragonets started coming in.
—
Redstripe knew, of course, about the law stating that every single Silkwing household in Bloodworm Hive had to contribute at least one worker to the hive's construction projects, even if said household consisted only of one single dragon.
It was why he was here, after all, lugging many tonnes worth of building materials to and fro for years now, after his mother died, and his father had been reassigned to live in another hive barely a year after he'd hatched (Redstripe still couldn't get over how unfair it was that the Hivewings retained the ability to break Silkwing families apart by forcing one of the parents to move and leave the others behind).
He also knew that that law applied to actual orphans, dragons with both parents dead, a fact which didn't make him happy, not one bit, but he could begrudgingly accept it if the orphan in question was an adult and knew how to handle themselves.
Never in a million years did he think that even dragonets weren't exempt from the law (though in hindsight, he probably shouldn't have been surprised; this was Bloodworm Hive, after all). And yet, here they were; a batch of young, wingless Silkwing dragonets with no parents or guardians to speak of, their parents either dead or forced to move to another hive without them, brought in by the overseer.
Not as part of a field trip or a lesson. It was because they were here to actually work. At a construction site. A place that was full of potential hazards for the unwary, especially with the Hivewings insisting on spending the barest minimum on worker safety. And they were actually letting flightless Silkwing dragonets who barely knew their way around anything work here?!
Even worse, judging by the overseer's tone and words after he'd introduced the dragonets and explained their presence here, he was not planning on going easy on them just because they were young (too young) and vulnerable.
"I expect every single one of you to work as hard as you can!", the overseer barked in that intolerable voice of his, "I will not tolerate anyone, especially shrimps like you, slacking off when there's work to do! I want you to push yourselves to do your jobs properly!" The dragonets all flinched at the overseer's strident tone at the end of his sentence.
"I don't care if you get tired or sore; what matters is that you get the job done in the time given to you!" the overseer continued. "If I catch any. Single. One of you being lazy during work hours, slacking off when you should be doing your job, there's going to be hell to pay!"
The overseer went on, warning about sloppy work and talking about workplace rules, but Redstripe had stopped listening and tuned out the drake's specific words, because it was at this point he'd zeroed in on a particular dragonet, near the back of the group.
The poor little thing was trembling and hunched over, obviously trying to hide behind some of the bigger dragonets to avoid catching the overseer's eye. But that wasn't what had caught his attention. It was the fact that dragonet resembled his mother.
Though it had been many years since his mother had passed, just after his metamorphosis, Redstripe could still vividly remember what she'd looked like: dark brown scales, with a streak of pale green along each side, her wings sharing that colour palette. That was also what the dragonet happened to look like, minus the wings. On closer inspection, however, the streak of green on the dragonet was a little bit darker, and the scales weren't quite the same shade of dark brown, being several shades lighter.
Nevertheless, it didn't diminish the resemblance for him, and Redstripe felt his heart ache at the reminder.
Then, as if the universe couldn't stop fucking with him, the overseer called him over before pointing at the dragonet he'd been eyeing, saying, "You show that one the ropes. I expect you to teach him everything he needs to know… adequately." The overseer moved on, distributing the other dragonets among the workers present.
For a few moments, Redstripe was frozen with shock that the dragonet who'd reminded him of his mother had happened to be assigned to him, and he stayed rooted to the ground for a slight bit longer than necessary.
He only shook himself out of it when the dragonet in question faced him, an openly anxious expression clearly visible on their (he couldn't tell if the dragonet was male or female at this point) face. It was enough to get his compassionate side to act up and tell him to snap out of it, and he stepped toward the dragonet.
The dragonet kept his eyes on Redstripe as he got closer, the brown orbs wide and constantly shifting, nervous energy clearly showing through. The dragonet, surprisingly, held their ground too, not taking even a single step back even as he approached them, despite clearly being very nervous at everything going on.
That pleased Redstripe, that at least he wasn't scary enough to make a young, scared and probably confused dragonet want to retreat, even a little. That, or the dragonet was braver than he was giving them credit for. Either way, Redstripe was feeling good about this particular dragonet.
He stopped a short distance away, far enough away to be respectful and not spook them, but not so far as to seem distant. The dragonet looked up at the adult dragon that towered over him, his gaze full of wariness. Spending a few more moments to study the dragonet a bit more, noting more of their features and committing them to memory, before clearing his throat.
"Hey there, little buddy," Redstripe started, "my name's Redstripe. What's your name?"
The dragonet looked at him for a moment, blinking a bit, apparently digesting the question, before quietly saying, "Swallowtail. My name's Swallowtail."
Swallowtail. A name that was widely seen as one for males. At least Redstripe had a good idea of what pronouns to use now.
"Well, Swallowtail, it's good to meet you," Redstripe said with a cheerfulness he didn't feel, "I'm going to be the one showing you around the place, showing you how to get things done and all that. Is that alright?"
The dragonet slowly nodded hesitantly.
"Great! In that case, best we get started now! You know what the boss said, no slacking!" Leaning in, he softly spoke into the dragonet's ear with a more serious voice, "Trust me, you do not want to know what he does to slackers."
He couldn't help but feel a little bad for how perturbed Swallowtail looked at those words and his tone, but Redstripe really didn't want this cute, innocent dragonet to ever, ever experience the wrath of the overseer.
He wanted to emphasise to Swallowtail that the overseer really didn't appreciate any workers not being productive enough, and that the punishments dished out by him were most definitely not something Swallowtail wanted to experience.
In short, he was acting like a parent trying to scare their dragonet into behaving.
Redstripe wasn't sure what to think about that realisation, so he brushed it aside, in favour of giving his charge the required tour of their current site, gave him a rundown of what he needed to do, demonstrating how to carry building materials in the least painful and taxing way, and answering any other questions the dragonet had.
Naturally, there were some fumbles made, but Swallowtail learned quickly enough, and by the time lunch break rolled around, Redstripe felt reasonably confident that the young drake could carry out his job to an acceptable degree for the overseer.
He only wished he could have lightened his charge's workload a bit, but that might have earned the ire of their supervisor, and Redstripe just couldn't allow that. Fortunately, Swallowtail didn't complain, taking the loads he was given with merely a grunt as he lifted the sacks into place. Still, the dragonet looked like he badly needed a bit of a breather, and Redstripe couldn't be more glad to hear lunch being called.
It was during this break where Swallowtail, like the inquisitive dragonet he was, started asking Redstripe questions as they ate the tasteless rations given by the overseer, mostly the normal questions dragons asked when making new acquaintances, like those about hobbies (they both liked drawing things), favorite foods (flower salad for Redstripe, candied fruit for Swallowtail), their ages (Redstripe was 16, while Swallowtail was 4), hatching days, and so on. The older drake was more than happy to honestly answer most of the younger one's questions, asking a few of his own in turn.
It became an enjoyable light-hearted conversation that Redstripe relished, the constant hard work mercifully being put on hold while he got to know more about his surrogate in a more casual setting. It helped substantially, and Redstripe could feel the tension slowly bleeding away as they both grew more familiar with each other. It was clear Swallowtail was enjoying it too, the anxious look in his eyes rapidly fading away the more he talked.
When it came to the topic of parents, however, Swallowtail clammed up almost immediately, falling into an unnatural silence, and Redstripe almost smacked himself in the face. What was he thinking, asking the kid a question like that? Especially considering he was most likely orphaned or abandoned, since if he had a parent left, he wouldn't even be here.
"I- I'm sorry, bud, I didn't mean to upset you.."
"I- it's okay," Swallowtail quietly replied, "I- It just…it kinda hurts a little to talk about…"
Ah, damnit, Redstripe, you brought the mood down! And you made a child upset!
"I understand," Redstripe replied gently, "it's okay if you don't want to talk about; I understand completely."
For most of the remainder of the meal, silence reigned between the two. It made Redstripe uncomfortable, and constantly reminded him of the gaff he'd pulled with Swallowtail. He'd honestly do anything to revitalise the mood at this point, but he didn't know what to say in order to achieve that. Looking at the despondent dragonet, Redstripe decided he would do the best thing in this situation; tell the truth.
"Hey," he whispered, leaning close to Swallowtail, the dragonet looking up with melancholy, "I know. It's hard; real hard, to go through something like that. But I also know this, Swallowtail."
Redstripe breathed in, before continuing, "You. Are not alone." He placed a talon on his shoulder to emphasise those words, "I'll be here, if you ever want to talk about it. It doesn't have to be right away, and that's okay; I can wait. Just know I'll always be here if you need to talk about anything, alright?" He gave a small smile, then. "And it doesn't have to be just talking. If you want, I could just keep you company, y'know, make sure you're not alone when you don't want to be. What do you think?"
Swallowtail was staring at him with a look of incredulity, his brown orbs wide and bright. It occurred to Redstripe that Swallowtail might have never had someone else offer to do something like this before, to always be there to talk if he wanted to, which made him feel… terrible for the dragonet. Being lonely was not something he wanted anyone to experience, let alone a dragonet. He knew. He'd experienced it before, after his mother had died. That alone raised Redstripe's resolve to be there for this dragonet every step of the way, as much as possible for as long as possible.
Though the shocked silence was now starting to evolve into awkward silence, and Redstripe was starting to wonder if Swallowtail had somehow managed to take his offer the wrong way.
Then, the dragonet broke the silence, quietly muttering, "Thank you."
They were simple words, but Redstripe could tell they were charged with emotion, most of all gratitude, and Swallowtail's eyes looked brighter than normal, the light reflecting off of unshed tears. It was a simple "thank you", yes, but it was a meaningful one; one that would probably stick in both their minds for years to come. One that they would recall as being a turning point in both their lives. And Redstripe was all too happy to be a part of that.
Softly smiling, he replied to the dragonet, "It's no problem, bud."
His antennae twitched, catching the vibrations of their overseer (rather rudely) informing them that lunch was now over and that they had to get back to work. With a sigh, Redstripe stood up straight again.
"Wish we could have more time for this," he said regretfully, internally sighing at going back to the hard labour he and his charge were being subjected to.
"It's okay," Swallowtail perkily replied, "there's always tomorrow, right? And the mean Hivewing isn't going to look at us and see us talking all the time, right?"
Smiling at how Swallowtail called the overseer "mean", when he'd only known the drake for less than a day (though to be fair, the overseer hadn't exactly given off a good first impression), Redstripe replied, "That's right, bud. Always tomorrow. And on the way to the warehouse, too."
The joy on Swallowtail's face was so palpable and so precious that Redstripe sorely wished there was some way for him to preserve, to capture that look on the dragonet's face for all time. As it was, he settled for giving his young surrogate what he wanted; somebody to talk to. And as they got up to start hauling materials again, Redstripe and Swallowtail did just that; they talked.
Redstripe wanted so badly to spare this child the horrors of Hivewings abuse, but he knew that was not possible, not with the way things were at the moment. So instead, he did the next best thing; he helped make the dragonet's life that much less miserable.
—-–—
Day after day since the first, they kept up their agreement. They talked during the few, short breaks they were allowed at work, and when the overseer couldn't possibly be able to see them conversing, and their bond grew, the more they shared about each other, some trivial, others more fundamental. Eventually, he led Swallowtail to his web home, saying he was free to come by if he ever wanted to have a chat. Unsurprisingly, Redstripe's home became the place where the two of them talked the most, sometimes over some tea and sweet snacks.
Soon enough, they reached the point where they both decided they could trust each other to talk about the things they'd been scared to speak about before. Which meant they trusted each other enough to talk about their parents… or lack thereof.
Redstripe spoke of his parents, how his father was forced to move to another hive by order of the Queen, and how his mother had died from an incurable illness a few years later (though Redstripe still thought the Hivewing doctors could have at least seemed to care). How he'd been forced to take on his current job, not only because of that stupid law, but because he couldn't afford not to and risk starving to death.
In return, Swallowtail told him about how both his parents had died mere months ago in an accident involving collapsing scaffolding. For a few months, he'd stayed in an orphanage, where they taught him the standard things Silkwings learned in school (which was basically how to serve your employer's tea to their satisfaction).
Then, it seemed the Hivewings realised, or found out, that Swallowtail was the only member of his family left in Bloodworm Hive, which meant he was automatically a part of the hive's workforce, whether he liked it or not, thanks to that very same law that forced Redstripe to work.
He still lived in that orphanage, but he never had time for the lessons anymore, seeing as he now had to wake up early, before lessons started, in order to get to work on time, with said work not ending until well after those lessons were over.
(Personally, Redstripe really doubted Swallowtail would have learned anything really useful or meaningful, if his own school experience was anything to go by, but he didn't really want to invalidate the time Swallowtail spent in school, seeing as how the dragonet still held great stock in education's importance.)
Redstripe gave his honest condolences to Swallowtail, for his parents. The older dragon half-expected the dragonet to take his condolences as being hollow, pitying or patronising, like how he himself had done when the dragons around him gave their own condolences for his mother.
Instead, Swallowtail just quietly said, "It's fine. I'm… I'm learning to- to adjust."
Redstripe couldn't bear the melancholic look on Swallowtail's face as he said that, so he did the first thing that came to mind; he gave him a hug. A tight one at that.
"Oh, Swallowtail…"
"It's okay, Redstripe. I'm getting better. You don't have to worry about me."
Pulling away, Redstripe tells him, "Maybe I don't have to. That doesn't stop me from worrying all the same." Shaking his shoulders to emphasise the point, he went on, "I was given a responsibility to look after you, to make sure you did well, to make sure you didn't get hurt." He leaned in and said, "Which means it's also my responsibility to worry after your well-being. And, by Clearsight, I will worry about your well-being if it's the last thing I do! Because I care about it. About you."
Seeming unused to the attention and care being given to him, at the knowledge that Redstripe was genuinely concerned for his state of mind and cared enough about him to do so, Swallowtail looked away and shyly whined, "Aww, Redstripe…"
The dragon in question couldn't help but chuckle at the adorable sight in front of him, of his young charge hiding his flushed face from the embarrassment of Redstripe's declaration. It didn't change the fact he'd said that with utmost honesty, and had no intention of ever going back on those words.
"Alright, alright," he says, choosing to have mercy on the dragonet, changing the subject, "why don't we go and get something to eat, huh?"
Thankfully, they'd managed to get the most heavy stuff out of the way after that conversation, and the things they talked about started to settle down into more light-hearted things. That, or they just simply started seeking out each other's company during the short breaks and holidays.
At some point during these months, these months of conversation and opening up to each other, these months of companionship together, these months of bonding… Redstripe realised something.
He realised… that he saw Swallowtail as more than just a dragonet he had to take care of… he saw him as his own dragonet; a dragonet he might've had if he'd put even a little effort into finding someone to start a family with. A dragonet he somehow knew he'd do as much as he could to protect, to defend, to shelter, to make happy.
He saw him as a son. And Redstripe… didn't know what to make of that. He didn't know anything about fatherhood, especially since his own father had been forced to leave him. And Redstripe was scared of messing up, to the point Swallowtail would become… displeased with him, would stop wanting his company. Would leave him before he was meant to. He didn't want that to happen. Ever.
Looking down at Swallowtail, Redstripe couldn't imagine him leaving, not when they'd both clearly cherished each other's company. Yet he knew that things could change, and in short notice too. Things that were in or out of his control. It was the things that were out of his control that really worried him.
"Redstripe?", Swallowtail asked, seeming to pick up on the dragon's dark mood.
Redstripe only shook his head, not wanting to saddle the dragonet with his own issues. "I- it's nothing, bud." Damn his voice for cracking!
Swallowtail, obviously, didn't buy it, not for a moment, and insisted on not dropping the issue.
"C'mon, Redstripe, what's wrong? You said you're always going to be there for me to talk! Why can't I do the same for you?"
That made Redstripe pause. He had given his word, hadn't he? He never liked the thought of being duplicitous to anyone, because surely only the Hivewings would be that cruel.
It was not only that though. It was the earnestness in Swallowtail's words, his tone, his voice, that made Redstripe think… perhaps he could trust Swallowtail with this, telling him about his fears. Perhaps he could trust him to be steadfast in the way he thought of him. Perhaps… his fears would be unfounded.
'Ah, screw it,' Redstripe thought, 'it's not like he's going to drop it anytime soon.'
So, taking a deep breath, he told him the truth. He told him of how he'd come to see him as more of a son, how he feared he might do something to scare him away forever… how the elements that he couldn't hope to ever control would conspire to separate them permanently. He laid out the darkest of his thoughts, his emotions, in front of the dragonet, and when it was done, he couldn't help but take a step back as he awaited Swallowtail's response.
"…"
For several pregnant moments, there was a charged silence between them as the dragonet bowed his head and took the time to digest everything he'd been told, took the time to consider how he felt about it all, how he would respond, and Redstripe swore he could feel the anticipation starting to kill him.
At last, Swallowtail looked up.
"You're scared of me leaving you if you did something wrong?"
Finding his mouth too dry to speak, Redstripe nodded in response instead.
"I think that's silly." The response managed to completely catch him off guard.
"I'm not going to leave you forever just because you did something," the dragonet continued, "because I know that, whatever happens, you'll still care for me like you always have. I know you'll still care that much about me, no matter what. And… I really don't mind being like your son, if that was something you were worried about too. And it's not like I'm planning on leaving you anytime soon, anyway!"
Redstripe could only stare, so shocked he was by the dragonet's bold and serious declaration. When he finally found it in himself to snap out of it, to do something other than stare dazedly at the dragonet, it was to wrap Swallowtail in one the tightest and longest lasting hugs that anyone on Pantala might have experienced, so overcome with joy and relief was he.
It took some protesting on Swallowtail's part (plus mentioning he needed to breathe), before Redstripe finally relinquished him, though not without some level of reluctance. Swallowtail, for his part, didn't seem to have minded the hug itself all that much, if the little, adorable smile he had on his face was any indication.
"So… what do we do now?", the dragonet asked, now that their emotions had taken the time to settle down.
Redstripe only shrugged in response. "I don't know about you, but personally, I don't think there's anything we need to change."
"... Yeah, I don't think there's anything to change either."
"... Say, how 'bout we go get some candied pineapples?"
"Yeah… yeah, I'd love that a lot… dad."
—
Several months later…
It was supposed to have been just another workday. Just another grueling, sweltering day spent lugging heavy sacks from the warehouse near the bottom to the construction site at the top of the new tower block they were building. And yet, somehow… things happened.
Redstripe had thought Swallowtail had been looking under the weather, and his stamina couldn't seem to keep up with the workload he'd been assigned. So the dragon led his surrogate son to a place out of the eyes of the overseer so he could catch his breath before getting back to work. At least, that was the plan.
When Redstripe came around to pick up his son from his resting place, however… he wasn't there.
Immediately, his blood went cold and panic flooded his mind as Redstripe started frantically searching for his missing dragonet, his head snapping in every possible direction Swallowtail could have possibly gone, all while thinking up any possible reason Swallowtail could have left his spot, numerous worst-case scenarios running rampant through his mind as he began to hyperventilate. Bloodworm Hive was not kind to lone Silkwing dragonets walking the streets by themselves when they shouldn't be, and the thought Swallowtail might have somehow been grabbed by the authorities was threatening to suffocate him with an overwhelming sense of dread and helplessness.
So consumed he was by Swallowtail's disappearance that Redstripe didn't notice one of his workmates running towards him until they almost smashed into each other.
"Redstripe, thank Clearsight I found you!", his workmate, Atala, cried out.
"What is it Atala?!" Redstripe asked panickedly.
"I- It's your dragonet, Redstripe, the overseer-"
Atala didn't even finish her sentence before Redstripe was bolting towards the main construction area. Hearing the words "your dragonet" and "the overseer" in the same sentence, in the worried tone that Atala had been using, filled him with an even bigger pool of dread.
As he got closer, Redstripe could hear the overseer caterwauling, his workmates crowding around where his loud, nigh-unbearable voice was issuing from. Reaching the edge of the crowd, he started shoving his way through, to get to the front and see just what in Moons was going on and was Swallowtail okay, what was happening to Swallowtail, he needed to know please-
Luckily, his workmates recognised him quickly, and parted a path through. Redstripe wasted no time in charging forward to the front. There, he finally saw what the commotion was all about.
There the overseer was, yelling something about poor work ethics and laziness, but that wasn't what Redstripe was focusing on. There was Swallowtail, cowering before the drake's fury and taking several steps back with each loud yell the overseer directed at him, stepping back closer and closer towards the edge of the construction perimeter, where all that stood between the wingless dragonet and a 9-storey fall was a flimsy-looking barrier that barely reached the top of the dragonet's wing nubs. It didn't help that the supervisor was making menacing advances towards him with each step back from Swallowtail, pushing him even further towards the edge.
Soon, Swallowtail had his back pressed up against the wall, and the overseer was still stalking towards him. Redstripe could see the way Swallowtail was desperately looking for a way out, by how his eyes were flicking back and forth, eyes gone fully dilated with panic. Even as he looked for an out, Redstripe could see how the dragonet was pushing back more and more against the barrier the closer the overseer got.
However, something else got Redstripe's attention then. Even with everything else going on and competing for his attention, what managed to tear his gaze away from his dragonet being in real danger of being punished by the Hivewing supervisor, were the cracks that were beginning to form on the wall Swallowtail was leaning against. Instantly, Redstripe knew what would happen if he didn't do something. Snapping out of his fugue, he stepped forward out of the crowd, his mouth opening, to say what, he didn't know, just that he had to take the overseer's attention away from Swallowtail-
Crack!
It all happened almost faster than Redstripe could blink.
The weak, poorly-made perimeter wall gave way beneath the weight of a dragonet desperately pushing against it. With how much Swallowtail had been leaning against that wall, there was no chance he'd be able to grab onto the ledge before he-
Redstripe banished that thought, refusing to believe he couldn't do something, anything, to save his son. He bolted past the now silent overseer, over to the ledge, leaning out, just in time to see-
It was like time had slowed down in that moment, slowed down so he could see every second of the tragedy- his own tragedy- in the making.
He watched helplessly as Swallowtail, his dear, sweet Swallowtail, plummeted toward the street below, mouth open in a wordless scream, his talons extended towards him, as if he was reaching out to grab him, to be saved, nevermind that the dragonet had already fallen far out of his reach by the time he'd gotten his head over the ledge.
Redstripe could do nothing but uselessly reach out and scream Swallowtail's name as the dragonet he'd come to see as his son, his source of brightness in an ever-dark world of injustice and abuse, of bigotry and exploitation… finally slammed onto the pavement below. Even 9 stories up, Redstripe could still hear the sickening crunch! of numerous bones breaking at the same time. And in that moment… Redstripe wished it was his own bones making that crunch.
Even as Redstripe dumbly stared at the once-living dragonet, his once living, breathing, healthy son, at the way his body, his limbs, his neck, was unnaturally twisted and unmoving, the way blood was now leaking out where fractured bones had pierced through his skin, he could see how the Hivewings out on the street seemed to shrug and go about their business, even the dragonets among them, nonchalantly acting like nothing out of the ordinary had happened, seemingly uncaring that a child, a child he'd come to love as his own son, had died in front of their very eyes-
The pain in Redstripe's heart, the pain of knowing that Swallowtail wasn't coming back, that he'd never see or hear him as he was ever again, would never talk to him again, would never grow up and become his own self, turned into a spike of outrage and hatred, his mind now wishing that it was all of those Hivewings who were lying down, their bodies left broken and bleeding on the pavement, for their callousness at his son's death-
Through the fog of his enraged mind, Redstripe could hear his supervisor muttering, "Moons- damnit, now I have to file a report and get another worker in here. Stupid, lazy Silkwings and their stupid wingless dragonets… this is just not my day…"
Redstripe had had enough. Nobody, nobody, least of all a spiteful, hateful, bigoted prick like that fucking overseer, was going to speak of Swallowtail like that, like a mere inconvenience, especially not after that-
Getting up from the ledge, he whipped around to see the overseer's retreating form, his back wide open for attack as he called for all the assembled workers to get back to work. Flexing his talons, he made ready to pounce and make him pay-
Only to find himself being restrained by his co-workers, Atala among them. He tried to yell out, to scream at them to let him go, only for Atala to wrap her talons around his muzzle, stopping him from making any noise.
"Redstripe, listen," she hissed into his ear, even as he struggled against her and everyone else's hold, "I know you want to kill that bastard, we all do, but the authorities will come down on our heads if they find him missing. We can't afford that right now, Redstripe. Redstripe, listen to me damnit!"
Finally, after a not-insignificant amount of threats and cajoling, mostly from Atala, with said dragoness promising to talk after work, Redstripe finally calmed himself enough to refrain from attacking the supervisor and get back to work, lugging more building materials back and forth. It was a close thing, and the overseer was lucky he hadn't come into Redstripe's sight, because the Silkwing was confident no amount of restraining from his co-workers would have stopped him from mauling the drake then and there.
Still, Redstripe was able to get through the rest of his work day without incident, even if there was clearly a belligerent aura around him. It was probably why nobody dared to approach him then, even to offer condolences, and for that, Redstripe was glad. He wasn't sure if he could handle any perceived patronising at the moment.
When work finally ended for the day, Redstripe stormed his way out of the place, eager to put as much distance between himself and the overseer as quickly as possible.
As he left the construction site and got on the street, Redstripe could see that Swallowtail's body had already been moved away, the blood completely washed off the pavement. Like nothing had ever happened. The knowledge that the Hivewings would clear a crime scene so quickly, so completely, only made the hate in Redstripe's heart stab through him again, and he had to quickly avert his eyes and hurriedly walk away lest he cause a scene then and there.
A few blocks later, Redstripe was in a secluded alley, mercilessly punching the treestuff walls with everything his body had, fuelled by a deep well of a potent mix of grief, anger, and hatred. He didn't care about the pain, relished it in fact, like he was seeking to match the pain Swallowtail surely must have felt in his final moments.
"Swallowtail. My name's Swallowtail."
Thunk
"I know that, whatever happens, you'll still care for me like you always have."
Thunk
"It's okay, Redstripe… You don't have to worry about me."
Thunk
"I'd love that a lot… dad."
Thunk
"I'm sorry… I'm so sorry, Swallowtail…"
He didn't even know when he started sobbing, only that tears were now flooding out of his eyes as the memories of Swallowtail flowed into his mind, unbidden, as he incessantly apologised to the dragonet he would never get to hold, never get to comfort, never get to be there for, ever again. The dragonet he had failed to save. For what felt like hours, but was, in fact, only half of one, according to his internal clock, Redstripe relentlessly struck the walls, his assault never letting up, even as his talons looked more and more bruised. For that time, he kept at it. Until…
"Really doing a number on that wall, aren't you?"
Redstripe whirled around at the unexpected voice, having been so caught up in unleashing his anger that he hadn't registered that someone had managed to enter the alley alongside him. Thankfully, it was someone he knew.
"Atala?", he asked, his voice raspy from all the crying, "what are you-"
"I told you we'd talk, didn't I?"
Ah, crap, he'd forgotten that. He'd been so caught up in his grief and anger that he'd completely thrown Atala's promise out of his mind almost immediately.
"It's alright. You went through a lot in so little time. I understand.", Atala said before Redstripe even had a chance to open his mouth and apologise. Seeing as apologigsing was unnecessary now, Redstripe decided to move on to the topic at hand.
"What did you want to talk about?", he asked gruffly, wiping his tears away.
Atala didn't hesitate. She told him all about the Chrysalis, their goals for Silkwing independence, how they were in every hive, their plans to try and stage an uprising in Bloodworm Hive, where the brutal conditions for the Silkwing residents would ensure a united fighting front among them in the face of Wasp's drones. And finally, she offered to invite him into their underground rebel group, of which the Bloodworm Chrysalis cell was considered the biggest and most powerful of all the cells in each hive.
Redstripe spent several minutes digesting all of that information, as well as recovering from getting his mind completely blown by all of those revelations. Eventually, he finally found it within himself to ask, "Why didn't you tell me about this sooner?"
Atala shifted uncomfortably, before explaining that, because there was a major Chrysalis operation scheduled to take place soon, their leadership had made it clear that recruiting was much too risky for the time being, and that they had numbers enough, anyway. Though Atala promised that she did have enough pull with the structure to get Redstripe in.
"I'm sorry for not telling or inviting you sooner… but the way you reacted to that dragonet's… y'know, plus your strength, made me realise… that you would make for a good rebel. A good freedom fighter, one with drive. With determination. The question is… will you accept this invitation?"
Redstripe only had to close his eyes and recall the sight of Swallowtail's broken, bleeding body on the ground, the way the Hivewings on the street treated it so callously, the overseer's words after the fact, to reaffirm his decision.
"Where do I sign up to kick some Hivewings pricks in the face?"