Useless

Winter felt miserable. Worse than miserable. The most horrible thing in the world had just happened, and it was all his fault!

It was supposed to be a good day. It was supposed to be a wonderful day. A break from the war where he and his brother could relax and finally hunt scavengers like Hailstorm had always promised he'd do when they had the chance. A quiet bit of peace and fun among everything.

Then the Skywings had come and, just like that, everything had changed. Hailstorm was gone, and he was left alone. Winter had his life, at least, but not much else. He'd failed to help his brother when he needed it, and it cut through his heart like a knife.

Useless. Hailstorm had called him useless when talking with the Skywings. Winter was used being called the word. His parents spat it at him regularly. But this was the first time that he truly felt that they were right. He was useless, in every sense of the word.

He trudged through the hallways of the Ice Palace, his wings drooping at his sides. Apparently, the news of his failure had already spread, as those that didn't give him looks of disgust as he passed by quickly fled from his path. Not that he cared enough to even look up at them. He hardly cared about anything right now.

Useless.

His parents had been furious when he'd been forced to tell them what happen. That is, he couldn't not tell them what had gone on, that his stupidity had allowed fourteen Skywings to surround them and capture them, and only by Hailstorm's words had he been released as a messenger to tell them the story. Narwhal's eyes had blazed with anger, and his tongue had been just as fierce as he told Winter what he thought of the situation, how it would have been so much better if he'd been taken and Hailstorm returned, how it would have been better if he hadn't returned at all. How if he had his way, Winter would be thrown out of the circles for being such a pathetic excuse for an Icewing.

Useless.

Tundra was, surprising, a bit more subdued, but no less angry. She watched on wordlessly as his father had torn him, silently approving everything her mate did. She lifted no claw to defend Winter, no kind motherly word. She simply gave a snort once it was over, and turned her back.

Useless.

Icicle had said nothing to him when Narwhal told her what happened. She simply gave a growl and pushed past him. Where she went, he didn't know and didn't care. But he knew that that was probably how most dragons already seemed to know. He wouldn't be surprised to find out that his sister had taken the chance to share his failure with everyone, to laugh at his face and mock him like they always did. It was just one more piece of evidence pointing to how worthless he was, how completely and utterly useless he had always been as an Icewing, and that he always would be.

"Winter!"

He didn't even raise his head to look at who called out his name. All it would probably lead to was another mocking jeer, or more yelling at him for his errors. And he couldn't even try to defend himself from it. If anything, he deserved it.

"Winter!"

He paused as he heard it the second time, and he recognized the voice. And as much as he wished he could ignore it, this was once voice that he would have to heed to, it was one that he was duty bound to obey.

The voice of his queen.

He looked up as his aunt, Queen Glacier of the Icewings, approached him. He did his best to stand up straight and proud like an Icewing should, but he couldn't quite find it in himself to do it like he normally would. He was hardly worthy to be called an Icewing, after all. That's what Narwal had told him, and with what had happened he felt that his father was right.

He supposed that he shouldn't be too surprised that his queen had already received the news about Hailstorm, and he readied himself for yet another diatribe. She'd probably do what his father had suggested and have him thrown out of the circles, or worse. He'd not just cost her one of the best up-and-coming warriors and leaders in the Ice Kingdom, but her own nephew at the same time by losing Hailstorm. It was unforgivable in every way.

Glacier looked him over for a moment, then her eyes flickered around to the other nearby dragons who looked on in interest. Wordlessly, she motioned for him to follow her, and he did as she turned and walked back in the direction of her throne room. Apparently, whatever was to take place was something she wanted private, and Winter thanked the moons for that small mercy, not that it would make anything any easier.

They entered the throne room, and Queen Glacier dismissed the guards as they closed the doors, leaving the two of them alone. Now it was only him and her, and in a way that almost made him feel worse. She didn't even consider him dangerous enough to cause her harm should he choose to try.

She turned back to him, and he braced for the barrage of words to begin, but they never did. Instead, Glacier seemed to relax herself, letting go of the regal posture she always maintained as Queen. Her eyes and face softened as she looked him over, and he suddenly felt some of his own tension begin to melt, the fear and pain now starting to become a different emotion.

"I heard what happened to Hailstorm," she finally said, and she reached a claw out and set it on his own, "I'm so, so sorry, Winter."

He swallowed at the look in her eyes, genuine empathy in them. Yes, that feeling of powerlessness still remained, but as he looked at her the deeper emotion that he was masking it with began to break through. He began to tremble, and barely kept back tears. Icewings aren't supposed to cry, after all, let alone Icewing princes.

"He…they…I—I couldn't stop them," he tried to explain, to justify to both himself and her, "I wanted to…but I couldn't. They…they—"

"I know, Winter, I know," she told him with a small shush, her claw still on his in a comforting gesture, "It's okay."

"No it's not!" he cried, starting to fail at keeping his tears back.

She shook her head. "Winter, I know it's hard now, but listen to me. I understand—"

"No, you don't!" he insisted, ignoring his instincts that shouted out how wrong it was to interrupt his Queen. "It's all my fault! If I were more of an Icewing I could have fought them off, or maybe I would have done something else today besides go looking for stupid scavengers! But I didn't, and now Hailstorm is gone! I couldn't help him…I can't ever do anything right! I'm useless as an Icewing!"

All at once he felt wings envelop him, a warm embrace as Glacier suddenly pulled him into a hug. His eyes went wide at the suddenness of it, but only for a moment before he accepted it and leaned into her. Tears fell freely now; he couldn't hope to hold them back.

"Never say that, Winter," Glacier spoke in his ear as she held him tight, "Never."

"B—but," he tried to say.

"I don't care," she said, not willing to listen to his reasons why he was, "You aren't useless. Not to me."

He gave a shaky breath and tried to pull away, to recompose himself like an Icewing should, but she held him against her. "It's okay," she told him, "You can cry, Winter. Let it out."

Winter did just that, leaning deeper into her now. He sniffed as the tears continued to flow, feeling the relief at finally getting some release. At letting his emotions out. Icewing's weren't supposed to cry, but he did. And the Queen of the Icewings held him as he did. She held him close as he let it all out, all the frustration from years of being beaten down, all the doubts and worries over never being good enough, and the sorrow at the loss of his brother. All his lifetime, short as it was, he had had it building up in him, and like a perfect blizzard it had all finally whipped up into the storm of emotions he now had.

But as he shed his tears, it felt okay. It felt okay to show the emotion that his tribe tried to suppress so. And the more he did so, the better he began to feel. Maybe, just maybe, Queen Glacier was right. If she saw some value in him, then surely he wasn't worthless after all.

He didn't know how long she just held him there, wordlessly comforting him. It could have been hours before his tears began to stop, but she still embraced him. Occasionally she shifted a little, but she always kept him close against her, his chest on hers as he rested his head on her shoulder. Everything she did bespoke love, acceptance, and a care that Winter never got from his own parents, but that he had always longed for.

Part of him wished he could have stayed in that embrace forever, but long after his tears dried on his face and his feet began to hurt from standing for so long, he felt okay enough to try to break the embrace. Glacier gently released him as he pulled away and took a step back, but there was that same tenderness in her eyes as she looked him over again. She gave him a very small smile, and he returned it.

"Thank you," he said quietly, not sure what else to say. That she would suddenly give him her attention and care in this moment…it was more than he could express. It was more than any other dragon had ever done for him. "I…I think I needed that."

"I know you did," she said, her smile widening just a little bit, "And that's okay, Winter. Never let anyone tell you otherwise."

"I won't," he promised.

She set a claw on his again, "And don't worry. I'll do everything in my power to try to get Hailstorm back. We'll figure something out. I'm sure of it."

Winter felt his heart fall a little bit at the mention of Hailstorm again, but he nodded.

"I know it hurts," she told him, "But you can't blame yourself. I know what having that weight can do to a dragon."

"I'll…try," he told her. And he would, but he knew it would be hard.

"Good," she said before a knock on the throne room door interrupted them. "Yes?" she called out.

"Blaze's generals are here for the war strategy meeting, Your Majesty," one of the guard's voices rand from outside, "Should we send them in?"

"One moment," she called back out, before giving Winter her attention again.

He shifted a bit nervously. "Should I go?" he asked, not wanting to be in the way.

"If you wish," Glacier told him, "If not, you can stay with me for as long as you'd like, or need," she stretched out a wing and gently touched his shoulder, "I don't mind at all."

He looked into her eyes and saw the warmth in them. He smiled. "I think I'd like that."

Winter would spend the rest of the day with his Aunt Glacier, the Queen of the Icewings and a dragon who cared about him. And somehow, that last bit was the part that meant the most. For with her there to help him, to give him a wing to cry on, he didn't feel any less of a dragon, or even any less of an Icewing. Indeed, he didn't feel worthless—or useless—at all.

A/N: This was just a short one-shot I did a bit ago that I figured I'd post, exploring the thought/headcanon that Glacier could be the mother figure that Winter never got. Hope you all enjoyed it.