Qibli adjusted the straps on his bag as he flew low over the trees, searching for Winter's little cabin in the forest. It had been quite some time since the sandy quadruped dragon had visited Sanctuary, but he remembered that the IceWing lived far from anyone else.

It only took a few moments of circling in the skies before he spotted the oaken roof, diving down towards the spacious yard before the house. Grass brushed against his claws as he landed, nestling his wings behind his back. Qibli approached the door and knocked three times, an old pattern that he annoyed Winter with back when they went to school together.

The door opened a moment later. Qibli was greeted by a devilishly handsome dragon, his ice-blue scales glittering in the afternoon light. Years of knowing him informed the SandWing that he was happy to see him, though he thought that his greeting expression could still use some work. A neutral, even slightly happy Winter could have been considered morose at best by anyone else on the continent. "Hey, Qibli," he said.

The SandWing couldn't help but grin as he saw the snowy dragon. "Winter, buddy! It's been forever!"

"I didn't realize six months counted as forever," said Winter, though a smile tugged at the corners of his mouth. "Please, come in."

Qibli stepped into the small house. For a dragon who had lived entirely in a castle of ice, Winter filled his home with plenty of life. Light streamed down from the rafters into the kitchenette, falling on a couple of potted plants sitting on a windowsill. "Nice little place you have here," he said, nodding in approval. "Really moved on from that IceWing aesthetic, have you?"

"It's good to have a different perspective on things," he said, "even if it's just decorating with more than ten shades of icy blue."

"That's still better than staring at one shade of sand forever," Qibli said ruefully. "Ever since I took up politics at the Sand Kingdom, that's all it's been. Sand, sand, and more sand. I miss Jade Mountain Academy." He paused for a moment. "Hey, Winter, you wouldn't happen to know if Queen Snowfall needs a new SandWing ambassador? Maybe something, uh... could happen to the old one. Hypothetically."

His friend shook his head, his mane of icicles clattering softly. "My cousin adores Cirque," he said. "If anything happened to her, I'm sure she would channel Queen Glacier and rip the offending dragon's wings off. Before killing him, obviously."

"Why do you say 'him'?" Qibli asked, faking offense. "Girls are just as capable of making dragons disappear."

"Just a hypothetical."

The SandWing let out a chuckle. "Hopefully rest isn't a hypothetical," he said. "Where can I put my things?"

"Just down the hall, to the right," Winter said with a watering can in hand. "There's a guest room for you." Qibli watched the IceWing leave through the front door, surely heading out to the lake in search of water.

Qibli's claws clacked against the hardwood as he left the kitchenette and walked down the hallway. He made a right turn into his guest room... except what he walked into what was definitely not a guest room.

His mind began to tick as he took in everything before him. It was not anything like how he imagined any IceWing, let alone formal royalty like Winter, would choose to live. A gigantic mirror studded one side of the wall, so vast that he stopped and stared at himself. How did he even manage to put together the money for this, let alone have it installed in a small town like Sanctuary?

Then there was the stout dresser lined against another wall, completely unordinary except for the large ornate box sitting upon it. Qibli recognized it as a jewelry chest that SandWing royals usually commissioned from master woodworkers. How did something so expensive and exclusive find its way here?

The questions already piled high in his mind, but the room offered only more mysteries. The SandWing looked at the bed next, letting out a small "whoa" as he sank his claws into it. It was so regal and plush and vast that his talons practically disappeared underneath the blankets. He stared at the pink fabric, reminded of the few times he had to fetch Princess Blaze from her room. She would be furiously jealous of what Winter built himself here, he thought with awe.

And upon the bed were a set of soft, frilly garments, colored a beautiful glacial blue with ornate patterns stitched within the fabric. They were like tubes, definitely not meant for dressing anything but... legs? The tail?

All he knew that they were fit for a princess to wear.

Qibli froze when he heard Winter return. "Oh, did you know Moon's in town?" he heard the IceWing ask as he padded down the hallway. "She's coming by later, probably will want to get dinner at our usual place. Kind of a funny coincidence for all of us to be here at the same time, but I won't complain-"

His voice stopped the moment they locked eyes. The SandWing stared back, as if he were a dragonet caught with his claws in the cookie jar. "H-hey, Qibli," Winter said, obvious alarm streaking across his face. "How did you get in my room? It was supposed to be locked."

"Well, you said the room to the right," said Qibli defensively. "And it wasn't locked at all... but that's not what I'm wondering about right now." He turned around to face his friend, frilly clothing in claws. "Is this yours?"

Winter's glacier-blue eyes went wide. Qibli didn't have a moment to react before the IceWing snatched the stockings from him. "Absolutely not!" he said with a hiss. "You're not supposed to be in here! Get out!"

Unfortunately for Winter, the SandWing was far too observant. Shocked expression? Check. Voice pitching two octaves too high? Check. Clothing that somehow looked right at home on his slim body? Check.

All he needed to know was why.

"I didn't know you were dating someone!" Qibli exclaimed, feigning surprise. "Soooo... who's the lucky girl? She must be special to receive the undying love of Prince Winter of the IceWings! Does she know Queen Snowfall is your cousin?"

"I-" Realization pooled in Winter's eyes. "Why yes," he said, his icy mane bristling, "she does in fact know that I was royalty - not that it matters anymore, of course. Why do you want to know, anyways?"

"Why do I want to know? Really? I thought we were friends!" he cried in mock offense. "Best friends, even. You never mentioned her in any of the letters you wrote... you wouldn't ever hide anything from me, would you, buddy?"

Winter stared back at him with suspicion, but Qibli knew he had woven his deceit too well. "No," he admitted after a short moment, narrowing his eyes at him. "I suppose not. She's an IceWing, if you must know. A beautiful one."

"Oh! What's her name?"

"I don't think I'd let you tarnish her name with your voice, sand-snorter."

Qibli fought back a smirk. Winter could try his best to act diplomatic with him, but when the talons hit the ground, he was just as snarky as the day they met. "Oh! I- well, alright then," he said, voice flat and defeated. "I just... wow. I didn't think that you and your IceWing girlfriend were into... haha..."

"Into what?!"

"Easy, now," he said, holding his claws up. "You know, I've only seen princesses wear those kind of clothes." He paused, waiting tactically for the precise moment horror washed over his friend's face. "Winter! Are you trying to marry back into the IceWing tribe?!" he gasped. "Or wait, hold on, do you... do you like it when she dresses like a princess?" Qibli erupted in a bout of laughter, failing completely to contain himself. "Is this like, royalty play? Where you and your girlfriend dress like kings and queens and-"

"I-I'm not into that!" Winter yelped, blue blood coloring his cheeks. "It's not royalty play, or whatever moon-blasted name you have for it! I just thought the stockings looked cute, and wanted to see how it fit on-"

Qibli looked right into Winter's eyes, wishing that he could commit to memory how quickly the life faded from them. "Go on..."

"On h-her," Winter finished lamely, his scales trembling. "Um, Qibli-"

"Let me guess," he said. "There is no girlfriend, is there?"

Silence filled the room. Winter could have frozen him to death with his glare alone, were the deepest notes of embarrassment not etched on his face. "Um."

"Wow," breathed Qibli. He shot a look over at the full-body mirror in the room, the dots connecting like constellations in his mind. "Winter, you wouldn't happen to put those on, would you?"

He could head the IceWing's breath hitch, his body crouching as if he were stalking prey. "I will peel your hide away one scale at a time if you tell a single soul," he hissed. "I swear by the three moons."

"Now put your princess dress on and tell me that," Qibli said with a snort. Then he yelped as Winter lunged at him, crackling frost accumulating in the IceWing's maw. "I'm kidding! Winter, buddy, I'm kidding! I swear!"

"Good," he growled, settling back down. He pointed out at the hallway. "Now get out."

For however feral and angry Winter looked, Qibli felt a twinge of regret for joking around with him. "Wait, wait. What's wrong with it?" he asked. "No, I'm being serious this time."

"Is that a real question?" the IceWing asked. Sarcasm dripped from his words. "Everything's wrong with it! Males aren't supposed to adorn their bodies with such frivolous, ridiculous nonsense!"

Qibli self-consciously felt at his earring, frowning. "Need I remind you that such frivolous, ridiculous nonsense saved your life before?"

"And besides," Winter continued, ignoring him, "could you imagine how I look to others with this on? Just so silly and helpless and girly and..." He let out a growl of frustration. "Don't tell me you're this dumb, Qibli."

"Hey, no dragon is going to think that if they see you dressed up in that. Uh, most dragons. Some dragons?" he said hopefully as Winter glared at him. "But it doesn't mean you can't enjoy it, you know. I mean, I don't really see the problem with it."

Now that aroused a fair degree of suspicion from the IceWing. "Really."

"Really." Qibli gestured to the frilly bed. "I might make fun of you a lot, but honestly? I firmly believe in being yourself," he said, "and if yourself is a dragon in princess clothes, why not? As long as you're comfortable in them."

Winter snorted. "Well, what if I'm not?" he lamented. "It's stupid. This was a mistake. I'm going to throw this out." Qibli watched as the IceWing marched over to his dresser, pulling out an impressive variety of stockings and dresses and all manners of royal clothing. Clearly, he was doing a little more than just experimenting.

But it was all about to become little more than torn scrap in Winter's claws before Qibli intervened. "Wait, wait," he said, latching onto the IceWing's wrist. "Are you going to stop doing this just because... I saw you? Winter..."

Winter gave him a stare, as if evaluating what the best thing to say was. "... maybe," he said with a soft growl. "Maybe I don't like my friends seeing me in a ridiculous princess outfit. So what?"

"Winter," Qibli said with a chuckle. "Trust me, when I think of you, I don't think about what you look like as a princess." He couldn't stop himself from picturing Winter in a flowing gown and stockings, alarmed that he didn't immediately find the sight stupidly absurd.

"But you will now!" His response was as petulant as Qibli predicted. The grumpy IceWing tore himself free from his grasp, dropping all of the clothing and sitting down on his bed with his arms crossed. The SandWing watched him, willing himself to be patient with the pouting dragon. "What a disaster all of this has been."

Clearly, words were not going to work. Qibli could feel Winter's eyes glued to him as he walked up to the dresser, fishing a princess gown out of it. It was sewn better than any the clothing he had ever felt before, including the sheer silkiness of Blaze's shawl. "These are really well-made," he said with arched brows.

"Yes! They are," Winter said sourly, though Qibli still heard the pride in his voice. "They're what only the highest class of IceWings wear."

The sight of Winter strapped up in thin, silky stockings returned to him, and he had to shut down his imagination before it went any further. Qibli let the fabric flow through his claws, marveling at how soft and wonderful it felt. "Well, look," he said, fluffing out the gown before him. "What if I put some of these on? Would seeing me dressed up in these help you at all?"

"What."

He began to drape the gown down along his back, feeling its softness slip against his scales. "Qibli, w-what are you doing?" Winter asked, his voice hoarse. "You, uh-"

"That's Princess Qibli to you!" he said with such swagger that he thought the IceWing was going to fall off the bed. "Relax, Winter. If you see me looking like this, then there's no way I can tell anyone else about you. Right?"

Winter stared blankly at him. Qibli busied himself with slipping the gown over his sides, a convenient hem sewn to skirt around where his wings protruded from the fabric. "See? Look at me," he said with a chuckle. "I'm sure I look even worse than you!" He frowned at the baby blues cloaking his golden scales. "These colors definitely weren't made for SandWings."

"That's not a problem," the IceWing said. "I think... I think it look good on you."

Qibli couldn't hide his surprise, but he didn't need to. The look on Winter's face was oddly inscrutable, and he failed completely to meet his eyes. "Of course it does! A preposterous assumption to think otherwise," he said, trying his best to keep his voice level. "I learned how to talk like that from the royals blowing through Queen Thorn's palace. It's horrible."

Encouraged by Winter's reaction, he picked up the small pile of clothes and laid it on the bed, searching it for something else to wear. "You should help pick something out for me. I can't make talons or tails of any of this."

Winter leaned down after a moment of stillness, his claws sifting through the pile far more gently than Qibli expected. "Hm... how about... this?"

It was an extremely long stocking, lengthier than any of the stockings Qibli found before. "It's for your tail," Winter said. "It slips around it."

"Slips over it," said Qibli, picking it up. He stared long and hard at his own stinger. "I don't think I'll be able to get it over my tail."

"Slips around it, Qibli. Pay attention," Winter said. "Of course the royal seamstresses took that into account. This tail stocking slits open down the middle so you can wear it like a cuff, just for your tail instead." Qibli blinked as Winter took the stocking back from him. The IceWing pulled his thorny tail up before him, wrapping it in the royal fabric before working several buttons shut. "See?"

The stocking looked right at home on Winter's tail, the darker royal blues bound tight against the paleness of his scales. "Yeah," the SandWing said. "Yeah, I see what you mean. Those patterns are really cu- I mean, nice. Very nice."

For the first time since they were in the same room, Winter seemed to relax. "They're snowflakes," he said. "Not that a SandWing would know what snowflakes are. One day I'll take you to the Ice Kingdom so you see them for yourself. Payback for hauling me all the way across the desert forever ago."

"R-right." Qibli never realized just how thick and long Winter's tail was, but the way the stocking hugged his body made him incredibly aware of how... nice it looked. The SandWing found his brain unable to process words properly, only a mild panic forming in his head. "You looked like you knew you what you were doing with that tail, uh..."

"Stocking."

"The tail stocking, right." Qibli did his best to stop thinking about cute IceWing dragons in stockings. He nudged at the pile of clothing and looked up at Winter. "What else do you like wearing?"

He started going through it again, sorting it into small piles. "I really like stockings in general," Winter said softly. "They wrap around nice and tight around you, but they're not uncomfortable at all. I think they accentuate natural beauty very well."

The SandWing could do little but watch as Winter went on and on about the virtues of stockings, unconsciously slipping them on his legs one by one. Qibli's mouth was unusually dry, the dragon relegated to dumbly admiring how the IceWing's wonderfully regal sleeves glittered in the light. They hugged Winter's soft, supple legs, not a single curve out of place. He had thought IceWing princesses wore dresses as haughty as their personalities, but...

"... and stockings are very difficult to procure in the Ice Kingdom, so lesser royals will often import them instead of commissioning IceWing seamstresses," said Winter. "Qibli, are you paying attention at all?"

He nodded his head, as if he had just risen from a trance. "Y-yeah, of course buddy."

Winter pulled a stocking up his last naked leg, softly tugging it up to his shoulder. "See? They're practically made for me," he with a degree of confidence absent from his voice before. He got up off the bed and strutted around in front of the giant mirror, preening himself and letting out happy little sighs. Qibli was strongly reminded of how Princess Blaze would inspect her reflection in little pools of water, polished steel armor, and even a dinner plate once.

The difference, though, was that Blaze was little more than walking comedy, and Winter... Princess Winter, he thought to himself with a tremble, aroused many more complex feelings within him.

"You look good," Qibli managed. "Certainly better than me in this gown."

"Of course," said Winter with a surprisingly affectionate smile. "Why wouldn't an IceWing look brilliant in IceWing clothing? Though I'm sure that I can twist a wing or two to have some SandWing dresses made for you. I've heard that their attire is far more risqué."

Qibli dug in his memory, thinking about the belly dancing that princesses partook in at SandWing festivals. "M-maybe!" he said with newfound anxiety. "Maybe. We'll see."

Winter gave him an appraising look, but thankfully dropped the subject. He got off the bed and walked over to the dresser, opening the jewelry box atop it. Qibli's eyes widened as he saw gold glinting from within, much more treasure within than he thought anyone but Anemone would keep squirreled away. "Aw," he said, spotting a very familiar piece of jewelry, "you kept my earring!"

"Not by choice," he said with a snort. "It's been years since Darkstalker's been around, but you never know..."

"And here I thought you were stunned by my fashion sense," Qibli joked, trying to deflect a pang of guilt coursing through him. He'd tell him about Kinkajou's actions someday... just not today.

Winter thankfully relieved him of his thoughts, holding out a small golden band. "IceWing princesses usually don't wear much jewelry," he said, slipping it over one of his horns, "but obviously they haven't met me. I think I put them to shame."

He only nodded in agreement, watching as Winter pulled a necklace out next. "Qibli," he called. "Latch this together for me."

He hummed in confusion. "Don't you normally do it yourself?" But he relented anyways, sidling up close to the dragon and taking the necklace. It was heavy in his claws, the small gold chains gleaming back at him. He couldn't ignore how well they complimented Winter's pale scales as he draped it around his neck, clicking the tiny latch shut.

"Well, this one is really small," Winter said back, tugging gently at the necklace. Qibli thought he saw the IceWing's ears darken. "... and I don't wear it very often."

"Why not? It looks gorgeous."

Winter failed to respond, instead mumbling about company and digging through his jewelry box again. Qibli couldn't tell if he had said something wrong... or something right to the blushing dragon, trapped in his own thoughts as Winter tried on rings, bracelets, and other fine jewelry that he couldn't even name.

Before long, the IceWing had settled on a good look for himself. A single diamond-studded ring decorated one of his claws, and a pair of golden wristbands wrapped around his arms. Little gold chains hung in arcs along his horns, like the curve of a half-moon, glinting whenever he turned his head even slightly.

"Wow," said Qibli. Despite how often he joked about Winter's lineage, for the first time he felt as if he were in the presence of true royalty. "Winter, you..."

"What?" he asked. "There's no way you're going to tell me that I don't look absolutely amazing."

Qibli wasn't sure how to respond. He flipped through every possible response he could give, trying to predict so many outcomes that Clearsight herself would have been impressed. He didn't know how Winter would take it if he agreed – the IceWing did just go on a tirade about guys wearing girly clothing. But if he said he looked just okay, then surely he'd take offense to that too... but he definitely couldn't tell him the truth.

Could he?

Qibli's heart pounded in his chest as he considered the pretty IceWing from head to toe, trying his best to ignore just how easy those stockings were on his eyes or how dazzling all of the gold adorning him was. "You look... amazing," said Qibli softly. "Amazingly cute."

For the first time ever, he wasn't immensely proud of taking the wind out of Winter's sails. He felt just as embarrassed as his friend when the IceWing let out a surprised stammer, cheeks flushing. "T-thanks, Qibli," he said, voice betraying much more than mere gratitude. "But there's still one more thing that's left."

There was a small drawer in the middle of the jewelry box that Winter busied himself with. Qibli couldn't see what exactly was in it, but he have time to guess. His friend turned around, a beautiful golden tiara in his claws. It was, like most IceWings, sharp and aggressive, gold curves sweeping up to diamond-studded points. Intricate designs, ones that skilled dragons must have poured days into, danced and weaved along the tiara's band. "Just this left," Winter said in a way that made it seem not casually 'just this.' "Qibli..."

He felt light-headed as the IceWing offered him the tiara. He was just supposed to make him feel comfortable, not... "Y-yeah, Winter, buddy?"

"Do you... would you like to coronate me?"

"Coronate? Winter, I..."

Qibli didn't know what Winter was asking him. Of course, it was obvious that his friend was asking him to crown him, but what was he actually asking? Was this some sort of IceWing ritual? A way to ask for a date in some spectacularly weird fashion? They were just friends, right? Right?

But his body acted before his overbearing thoughts could intervene. "I'd love to," he breathed, holding his claws out. Qibli cursed his heart as he received the tiara, hoping that his friend couldn't see his trembling talons. His chest pounded as he rehearsed the few powerful words over and over again in his mind.

Then Winter bowed, lowering his head before him. "I, uh, pronounce you," Qibli declared in as officious a voice as he could summon. "I pronounce you Princess Winter of the IceWings."

He placed the tiara gently on Winter's head, nestling it around his ears before stepping back. The ice dragon rose back up to his full height, a furious blush blazing across his face as he made uncertain eye contact with Qibli. "Princess Winter of the IceWings," he said with a nervous laugh. "It sounds so weird when someone else says it."

The SandWing wanted to respond with something snarky, but despite their girly princess outfits, he found the situation far more solemn that it should have been. "But you know," Winter said, "when you say it, it just feels right to me, somehow. Um." The IceWing looked carefully at him, as if suddenly aware all of his feelings were on parade. "I will destroy you if you tell anyone else about this."

Qibli lifted his wings, the dainty gown flowing around his own body. "I promise, Winter. This is just between us."

"Not a scrap of Qibli left in the wind, I swear!" the IceWing warned, his head held high.

A long silence filled the room. The two dragon stared at each other. Qibli couldn't make talons or tails of Winter's gaze, the dragon watching him with something that wasn't quite his trademark annoyance. Of course, he was also quite aware of how artificial his own expression was. An hour ago, he would have been laughing hard enough to tear up, but now, he adjusted his face to be precisely neutral, as if he were just casually observing his friend.

"So, uh," he said, rubbing at the hem of his gown. "What do you normally do after you dress up?"

"Well," said Winter, "I just do everything as usual... except dressed up like this. Do some writing or drawing, relaxing, maybe look at myself in the mirror. Sleep if I do it before bedtime. But, ah... you being here changes a few things, of course."

Qibli could not ignore Winter's bashfulness. Pure embarrassment scored his face; his body language screamed discomfort. "What do you mean by that?"

He knew that Winter to be a terrible actor, but the strange, artificial smugness the IceWing tried to prop himself up with was cringe-inducing. The IceWing circled around him before seating himself up upon the bed again and giving Qibli a scornful look. "Such an impudent question," said Winter, his words stilted. "You are in the presence of a princess. Do you not mind your manners before royalty?"

"Uh." Qibli blinked. "You alright there, Winter?"

"How dare you address me without honorifics," he said, actually standing up on the bed. Qibli had to hide a snicker at how Winter's claws sank deep into the blankets, the ice dragon nearly falling into the blankets. "It might have not occurred to you, SandWing," the dragon said, precariously maintaining his balance, "that IceWing royalty is to be paid only the greatest of respects."

Winter's response, as well as his suddenly haughty behavior, put Qibli on edge. There was no way he was actually pretending to be a real princess... right? "Oh! Do you mean for me to call you Princess Winter of the IceWings?" he said very loudly.

He saw a flash of doubt cross Winter's face. The IceWing looked around him, as if the walls had grown ears, but settled down after a moment. "Yes," he said cautiously after a moment, regarding Qibli with newfound suspicion. "That is correct. I am Prince Win... Princess Winter of the IceWings, and you shall address me as such!"

So he was serious. In a rare moment for Qibli, he was absolutely bewildered, lost for what to say. On one hand, the IceWing was being absolutely ridiculous – there was no way he could expect him to go along with pretending to be some common, lesser-than dragon submitting to his best friend. Didn't he make fun of Winter for that when he was genuinely that insufferable?

But what Winter really, truly wanted was to feel like a princess, he thought as well. Walking around his own room in private and swaggering about must pale in comparison to having someone actually at his beck and call, especially if he could bark orders at them instead of a mirror. Having his best friend discover his secret must have been the best and worst thing for him in a very long time.

Oh, Winter, he thought in melancholy. So precious, yet so tortured.

But the old Qibli – the Qibli from an hour ago – snarked in his mind. It wasn't enough for Winter to dress up as a princess? he asked himself. Winter wanted to act like one too, fantasy replete with subjugating someone under his claws.

Qibli gave the beautiful IceWing another look. His body trembled, and his heart pounded harder, almost as if he couldn't breathe for that single moment.

... but there was nothing wrong with what Winter was doing, he thought firmly. It wasn't that being under Winter's authority was something he was into – if anything, he thought with a shake of his head, he didn't care for it at all. He just... he just really wanted to see Winter comfortable and happy with who he really was. If it only cost him a few hours of his dignity to make his best friend the happiest dragon in Pyrrhia, wasn't that worth it?

That, and Winter was kind of hot, sitting there so regally in his stockings and jewelry. Not that he would vocally admit that.

So Qibli stowed his pride away in his heart, somewhere deep where he hoped Princess Winter couldn't accidentally stumble upon it and tear it to shreds, and bowed to the dragon before him. "My apologies, Princess Winter of the IceWings," he said.

His performance must have been good. Even though Qibli didn't dare look up, he could hear a soft gasp of shock. Clearly, he had been expecting him to do anything but go along with the act. "Y-you are forgiven," said Winter, his voice unsteady. "Up on your feet."

The SandWing obeyed his order, pulling himself back up. "Yes, princess. Or would you prefer Your Royal Highness?" he mused, pretending as if he was deep in thought. "You know, if I refer to you as Your Royal Highness, then you could be a prince or a princess. Wouldn't that be strange? Oh, all of the others royals must know that you are a princess, right-"

"Q-Qibli!" barked Winter. "Cease your useless yammering at once, or I shall see you... your tongue removed! With haste!"

Though he chose to fulfill Winter's fantasy, there was nothing that said he couldn't do it his own way. "My apologies," Qibli said, trying and abjectly failing to suppress his smirk. "How shall I refer to you, then...?"

Winter paused in thought, and Qibli did his best to appear supremely interested in his decision. "Enough! Stop staring at me with those moon-blasted eyes of yours!" He sighed and rolled his eyes. "Princess. You are to refer to me as Princess."

"Very good, Princess Winter. Of the, uh... IceWings. Right."

Winter still look shaken, but had enough composure to glare back at him. "Now, Qibli," he said, "I have a task for you. I've been feeling a... a bit of a knot in my back for the past few days. Could you...?" He shook his head. "Make yourself useful and massage it away for me."

Qibli tried not to let shock color his face. Winter's first request was ... a massage? He looked up at the IceWing, witness to unmitigated embarrassment raging across his features. It was especially telling that he refused to make eye contact at all, even when Qibli let an awkward pause settle between them. "Uh, I can do that," he finally said with a gulp, cursing his wings for quivering. Where had all of his humor flown off to? "I can definitely do that for you."

Then Winter looked back at him, and Qibli failed to comprehend his expression, a cocktail of embarrassment and thanks and trepidation and disbelief and anticipation and so many things that somehow he, the overthinking dragon, was simply inundated with emotion.

But the IceWing managed to hide all of that behind a wall of ice just a moment later, nothing but a scowl plastered on his face. "You can definitely do that for me, what?"

"Ah. Sorry. I can definitely do that for you, princess," said Qibli with another bow. "But I had thought that IceWings were very... claws off with each other?"

"Naturally," said Winter with a wave of his wing. "But this is an exception, for I have no one else to tend to me besides... you, unfortunately."

Qibli bowed. "Very unfortunate, princess," he said, though he knew that Winter's voice was laced with anything but disappointment. "But luckily for you, I am the best masseur known to dragonkind and I am deeply honored to lay my claws upon the most beautiful dragon in Pyrrhia."

His acting earned him a tremendous "ugh", but Winter sat back down up in the bed and shook his wings open. "Enough theatrics, Qibli," he said. "Perform your duties."

He circled around the bed. Winter shuffled to one side, just enough to give Qibli enough space to jump on beside him. He tried to not be impressed with how soft and comfortable the bed felt under him as he splayed his claws wide open, trying to remember how to actually massage a dragon. Queen Thorn had asked him for similar things a long, long time ago, but he was certain it was a far less intimate affair than... whatever this arrangement was.

He leaned forward, pressing both of his claws against the middle of Winter's back. The IceWing scales were cool, like an autumn breeze, but hardly intolerable. First, he had to search for where the knot actually was, which proved immensely difficult from how Winter tensed up the moment he touched him. "Let me know where," Qibli said, doing his best to concentrate on his actual job and not the fact that he was giving a back massage to his best friend.

"Mm... move it up higher," said Winter. "A little higher... a-ah, Qibli..."

That single sound was enough to make the SandWing shiver. "There? Good, good. Yeah, just stay still, Win- I mean, uh, princess," he said, trying to make words come out of his mouth as fast as possible. "Just stay right there and let me work my magic."

Qibli began to press harder into Winter's back. He drew circles with his outstretched talons, working his way down bit by bit and trying to ignore the pleasured groans rising up underneath him. "Ah, that feels... mm, that feels really good," Winter said, his wings spreading out more.

"Princess?"

"Hm?" The IceWing looked back up at him, and Qibli tried to rearrange his face into something that wouldn't betray his thoughts. "Keep on going. Your claws are animus-touched, I swear."

"Really?" he asked, relieved when Winter rested his head back down in the pillows again. "Have you never had something like this before?"

Winter was about to answer, but groaned instead as Qibli smushed his talons into a particularly tight spot. The irony was not lost upon him – though Winter was nice and relaxed underneath him, the last time Qibli was so nervous was when he stared down Darkstalker years ago. "Not at alllllll," the oblivious IceWing sighed. "We don't have any of this frivolous... behavior in the Ice Kingdom. Pain like this is considered a teacher. To willingly lessen it is to partake in vice."

Qibli had his suspicions from his time with the IceWing in school, but never got to confirm it so openly until now. "Is that so, princess?" Qibli asked, rubbing up and down Winter's more relaxed body. "Then why ask me for a massage?"

"Because sometimes," Winter said with such authenticity that Qibli struggled to determine whether he was acting or not. "Sometimes, a princess must enjoy the finer things in life. Wouldn't you agree?"

Qibli couldn't help but smile. To hear something like that from someone like Winter pleasantly surprised him. "I think that's a good to look at things, buddy," he said earnestly, glad that his friend couldn't see the ridiculously sappy smile he gave him.

Then he winced from the faux pas, waiting for the IceWing to correct him with a harsh jab... but nothing came of it. Instead, the body beneath him sagged a little, as if another knot of stress had lifted out of his scales. "Mm..." Winter groaned, adjusting his shoulders. "I could fall asleep like this. But don't stop! I command you to continue."

There was the princess he knew. Qibli continued to massage at Winter, humming softly as he traveled down towards the small of this back. It was an old SandWing tune, one that he remembered from when Thorn was raising him, and he lost himself in the soft song. Time seemed to blur; the only thing that he paid attention were his friend's moans, guides for where he should knead next with his claws.

By the time Qibli reached the base of Winter's tail, the IceWing had passed out. He reached forward and massaged his shoulders. "Princess Winter," he said softly."

Winter's ears twitched, and he arose with a groan. "Ah... Qibli?" he asked. "That was..."

For however much Qibli wanted to poke fun at the snoozing princess, the mere sight of a drowsy Winter blinking away his drowsiness made him want to coo. "You fell asleep," the SandWing simply said, deciding to conceal his melting heart.

"I did?" said Winter in a very unroyal manner, burrowing his muzzle back in the pillows. "Mmph. I might have to ask you for another massage again sometime."

Qibli couldn't find the usual coldness in his voice, but he refused to believe that Winter was serious, either. "Anytime you may desire it," he said in a carefully crafted tone. "Princess."

He fell away from the bed, allowing Winter to stretch his wings and yawn. His jewelry glittered as they caught the afternoon light, the SandWing captivated by the sight until the moment the princess looked his way. "Ahem. Very good, Qibli. You could use a treat," he said. "There is an icebox in the kitchenette with a box of ice cream and berries. Please plate it for us."

"Ice cream, princess?"

"An IceWing delicacy. You will recognize it when you see it."

Qibli left the bedroom, almost stepping all over his gown on the way out. He had half a mind to take it off, but the thought of how Winter would react kept him from removing it. So he wore it into the kitchen, immediately spotting the frozen-over icebox. He found a couple of bowls, placing them on the counter before pulling out the box of ice cream.

It wasn't that he recognized it as ice cream, so much as he recognized that Winter had neatly written "ice cream" on the box. As a SandWing, he was completely unfamiliar with IceWing foods, especially something that looked so soft and delicate like the treat before him. He found a spoon in one of the drawers, expecting to have to chisel the delicate, swirled surface out of the box, but was utterly surprised to find that it sank through the ice cream like a hot knife through butter. He scooped out two generous portions, topping the pearly-white desserts with clawfuls of frozen berries also sitting in the icebox.

"Qibli!"

Oops. He hurriedly put the rest of the ice cream back into the icebox before gathering both bowls and a pair of spoons in the crook of his tail. It was a careful balancing act, and he nearly dropped one of the bowls when re-entering Winter's bedroom. "I had almost thought you didn't know what you were doing," Winter said.

There it was again – an IceWing royal's trademark smugness, though Qibli knew that Winter was just acting. He let him enjoy his superiority, setting the bowls on the dresser. He put a spoon in one of them, digging into the ice cream and holding it out. "For you, Princess Winter."

The name drew a delighted growl from the dragon. "Thank you." Winter took the bowl from him, plucking one of the berries and tossing it into his mouth. "You must try these frozen fruits," he said. "They are exquisite."

Qibli looked down at his own bowl, digging out a small mound of ice cream with a blueberry on top. He regarded it suspiciously, watching as it melted and dripped over the sides of his spoon before putting it in his mouth. SandWings knew good food, and though he trusted Winter, there was no way IceWing food could be as good as-

"Three moons," he said, eyes wide. "This is really good. It's like... ice, but much softer and sweeter. The crunchy berry on top, too..."

"I'm glad you can respect my tribe's artisanal skills," said Winter. "We are unrivalled in this realm of the culinary world, of course."

The SandWing barely heard him, unable to resist licking the back of his spoon. He completely failed to heed Winter's scornful gaze upon him as he indulged himself further. The meal was far better than a fried lizard, camel milk, or anything else from the Sand Kingdom. "This can't be healthy for you, can it?" he asked, staring down at his bowl. "It's so sweet and creamy..."

"All in moderation," Princess Winter said, taking a measured bite of his ice cream. Even when enjoying his treat, the IceWing carried himself regally, ensuring not a single drop of melted cream would stain either his jewelry or his stockings. He was true to act down to the last detail, leaving Qibli both impressed and astonished. To think that he would pretend to be under his claw as a servant...

His heart was traitorous, instantly rebuking his scorn as he took another scoop of ice cream. Seeing Winter so satisfied and smug would have rubbed him the wrong way in the past, but now, after everything they had been through, and all of what he knew of Winter's history... seeing the IceWing happy and genuinely having a good time gave him happiness he could rarely find elsewhere, even if it was at his own expense.

That being said, he would sooner scoop his eyes out with a spoon before telling Winter about what roiled inside of his heart. Qibli tried to stem his churning mind, but it was like blocking crashing waves with a wall of sand. Anxiety crashed over his feeble defensive, pooling in his chest as he began to chase the remaining dregs of his ice cream around in the bowl. He occasionally stole glances up at the IceWing between bites, hoping that he wouldn't notice his subtle adoration.

It was unsurprising that he liked Winter because, of course, he just did. All the same, though, would have been a lie to simply leave it at that.

But he refuse to entertain that thread any further, leaving it dangling loose in his mind with the absurd hope that he wouldn't consider it ever again. Qibli looked up at his charge, who had also finished his bowl of ice cream. He reached out and collected it before Winter could say a word, though he swore he heard a "thanks" uttered under his breath before he set both of their bowls up on the dresser. "I hope you enjoyed it," Winter said, speaking down to him. "Nothing reminds me of IceWings culture like a bowl of fine ice cream."

"I usually imagine overly haughty dragons. Not saying that you're one, princess," Qibli asked, failing to wilt under Winter's glare. "Or things being unbearably cold, or ancient frozen NightWings jailed in mysterious dungeons."

Winter gave him a sour look. "I suppose a mere SandWing without imagination would think of those," he said with a roll of his eyes. "Don't make me regret giving you a taste of IceWing superiority."

"I would never dare rob you of the ability to serve me ice cream, princess," Qibli said with a chuckle, bowing low to the dragon on the bed. "I exist only to be fed by your generosity."

The IceWing snorted, beckoning him back up with a claw. "Don't be ridiculous, Qibli. You are the one serving me, don't forget. And speaking of serving," he said, making himself comfortable in the bed again, "I require... something else from you."

"What will it be, princess?"

He failed to miss how a heavy blush smothered Winter's cheeks. It melted his heart to see his friend falter, though this time he didn't know why. Winter had been acting as a princess for quite a while; it wasn't like there was anything different, which meant that what he had on his mind was positively damning.

Qibli mentally prepared himself to rake him over the coals with fresh blackmail, but the words that tumbled out of his mouth stunned him. "Come... come comfort your princess," said an embarrassed Winter, the words so soft that he struggled to hear them entirely.

"W-what?"

"Need I repeat myself?" asked the IceWing, shifting nervously on the bed. "Come comfort your princess."

Qibli demanded his throbbing heart be still, but he should have known it would never listen to him by now. "What... what do you mean by that?" Qibli asked, doing his best to mask his trepidation. "If Your Royal Highness could clarify for this simpleton..."

Winter's tortured groan meant that he had hit home. "Comfort as in..."

"I'm hanging onto your every last word, princess."

"Qibli!" he growled, sinking his claws into the bed in a mild tantrum. "Just... get up on the bed, you sand-snorter."

So he obeyed, jumping up onto the bed and settling in close, but not too close to Winter. He couldn't help but shoot his friend an amused glance, realizing that the IceWing was trying his best not to make eye contact at all with him. "Is this how IceWings comfort each other, princess?" Qibli asked. "Sitting apart from each other, enjoying the atmosphere of the... bedroom? If this is the kind of time your tribe spends together, it's not surprising to me why IceWings are so icy. Haha, get it? Because you're made out of ice-"

"Closer."

He nearly missed Winter's whisper. "What?"

The IceWing looked at him at last. Ever-present was the anger that he wore so well, but underneath it ran such powerful embarrassment that even the densest RainWing couldn't miss. "Closer," he said with a snarl. "Just get... closer to me."

Qibli's heart began to pound in his chest again, but he could never disobey an order from his princess. He sidled closer to his friend, inching sideways on the bed until he was close enough to feel the coolness shedding from Winter's scales, but he only gave him the same arch look as before. The SandWing looked down at the scarce distance, hardly a talon-length, between them on the bed. Even though hesitation ruled his mind, he bravely chose to advance further into IceWing territory.

He tried his best not to let his emotions show the moment he felt his scales press against Winter's. Their sides touched, though Qibli was careful to avoid brushing his friend's claws with his own. "Hey, buddy," he said, eying the IceWing's sharp muzzle, "is... is this what you wanted? You could have just said you wanted me at your side."

"Yes," said Winter, his voice stilted, "but... that's not what I want."

Qibli felt his heart beginning to tumble in his chest, but knew that he couldn't let himself slip for even a moment. "Really, now," was all that he said.

"I mean... it's..." Winter's breath faltered, the IceWing looking down and away. "Shut up, Qibli. You're giving me that look."

The SandWing let out a note of surprise, looking up at the mirror across the room. Moons, he's right, he thought, startled, quickly rearranging it into something that resembled something more neutral. "What look?" he asked after what was certainly too long of a pause. "I always look like this, thank you very much."

Then the IceWing swung his head back to Qibli, and though he saw his reflection a moment before, seeing that look also etched on Winter's face threatened to still his breath. "You know what I'm talking about," he said with more heart than the SandWing was equipped to deal with. "You're a lot of things, but dumb isn't one of them."

"Why thank you, princess," Qibli said, summoning the dwindling reserves of his humor to his defense. "Some may also call me clever, awesome, charming, insufferable, stabbable-"

"And you are certainly all of those," continued Winter, his admission grinding away like a glacier at Qibli's bravado, "but... you're more than that too."

That comment gave Qibli pause. He found himself hopelessly ensnared in the spindly webs of his thoughts. What did Winter mean by that? This entire time, he had danced around the edges of desire, fearing the loss of his friend over something as silly as romantic interest. Just because they shared that kind of... connection with each other meant nothing, after all. If he made a move on Winter, it could be catastrophic to their friendship.

But what if he didn't? Qibli failed to meet Winter's gaze, instead forcing himself to think his decision through even though everything in his body screamed to just do it, do it, do it. If he didn't ask Winter, would he be disappointed? Could not asking him break their friendship just as much? What would happened if he met him tit-for-tat? What if he just mirrored what Winter chose to reveal?

He knew that wasn't the best way to approach the situation, but his time was up. The ice dragon growled and glared at him. "What's wrong? Too scared to admit what's really on your mind?"

Qibli stared at him. He continued to stare, saying nothing, but Winter's words had set his mind afire, his bundle of thoughts unraveled completely by one simple question. He understood everything – why Winter's voice wavered, why his muzzle trembled, why he couldn't even keep his glare perfectly cold and frosty like an IceWing should. There was no way Qibli would make a move without enough information, but Winter, whether he knew it or not, gave him the last motes of courage necessary to overcome his trepidation.

He stretched one of his wings wide, silently praying that it was the right move before letting it fall around Winter's back.

The IceWing failed to react, as if frozen in time, and Qibli felt his heart race so quickly in his heart that he feared it may stop at any moment. Was that the right thing to do? he asked himself. Maybe I should have used an arm instead. Or nothing at all. There's no way that he would...

And then, like a miracle, Winter murmured and leaned into his side. Qibli wanted to laugh; it was ludicrous that something as simple as that could shatter the tenseness, the anxiety, the raw fear that had captured his body for all that time. But he wanted to remain strong for his... friend? After this, would they still just be friends? Or partners? Snuggling up like this wasn't something that friends did... was it?

He almost laughed at the first thought in his mind: what would Queen Thorn think of an intertribal relationship? If it did surface, of course, Qibli thought, tempering his expectations. There was nothing that suggested Winter wanted something that complex. He shouldn't be so forthright.

But that thinking was as hopeless as his heart, pounding and falling and doing all of these things he would have never wanted it to do in front of Winter, of all dragons, but in this moment he would have given up everything he knew just to feel its warmth and jubilation until the end of time.

It was by luck that Winter could so easily chased the thoughts out of Qibli's head, replacing them with a blanket of happiness just by nuzzling along the side of his long neck with his snout. "Your princess is glad that she did not need to spell it out for her subject," breathed the dragon.

Qibli savored the sensation, looking down at his friend. "Are IceWings always so difficult, princess? Or is it just you?"

"Hmph. I didn't realize you were allowed to ask so many questions." The SandWing let out a murmur of surprise as he felt a spiked tail feel its way around his own, curling and twisting and carefully avoiding his barbed tip. He couldn't deny that it felt good to feel them twine together; to any other dragon, it would have screamed that they were in a relationship.

But a well-placed comment tempered the high from that wonderful thought. Winter let out a small huff, leaning into Qibli's neck. "Why...?" he mumbled, as if he couldn't choose his words. "Why would you indulge me?

Qibli threw an arm over Winter's back, massaging down tense shoulders that had suddenly formed underneath his touch. "Is that really a question?" He caught himself with the bluntness of his question, so desperately wanting to blurt out the truth, but he knew he wasn't ready to engage Winter's sentiments so earnestly. "Because I'm your best friend," Qibli said, stowing his hopes away for a later day. "And this is what best friends do."

The IceWing let out a snort, nuzzling him again. "Best friends usually don't dress up as princesses and cuddle."

"Well, too bad," said Qibli, "because that's what we just did. And that's okay. I just... well..."

He paused. Did he just imagine the IceWing's body tensing up beside him? The SandWing drew his arm back from Winter, pulling himself back so he could get a better look at his face. The look that Winter gave him nearly killed him where he sat. Few times had he witnessed true, unfiltered emotion on his friend's face, but the raw sadness made Qibli want to rush back in and cuddle him anew.

Instead, Qibli kept his longing in check and reached forward, brushing his friend's tiara as he tried to figure out what to say next. But he was simply lost for words, wishing that he prepared himself for something as trivial as admitting love... but he was unprepared for just about everything that happened today.

"You're ridiculous," said the IceWing, filling the silence for him. "You'd do anything for your friends... including dressing up just to make her feel better about herself."

His response made Qibli blink. "That shouldn't be a surprise to you," he said, silently grateful that he didn't have to say what was truly on his mind. "I just want you to be happy. And if all it takes is putting on a dress, and maybe doing a silly thing or two you with you, then... what's the harm in that?" He let out a nervous laugh. Never before had he thought himself an open book, but Winter's sharp observation seemed to coax all the words off his pages. "You're my best friend, Winter, buddy or princess or... or whatever, and I just want to see you be happy with who you are. That's all it is. Really."

The IceWing murmured. Qibli took shallow breaths, realizing that he had bared his entire heart out for his friend to read, and was ready to condemn himself for even bothering to try. Such a silly thing to do – there's no way he would understand, he thought-

Then Winter was right in his face. He was unprepared for the soft sensation of their muzzles pressing together. It was a gentle motion, with just the slightest bit of tongue, and one that Qibli never imagined the frigid dragon would attempt by himself, but he was just glad that he could share this kiss with him in that single fragile moment.

"Thank you, Qibli," Winter whispered.

They separated. There were no feverish reds or furious blues staining their cheeks. Instead, as Qibli gazed at Winter's serene face, he only witnessed a solemn calm unbefitting of the IceWing.

The SandWing let out a soft hum and leaned into Winter, snuggling him tight as he laid his head down on a pillow. He found himself emotionally drained, though happy all the same that his friend was willing to tolerate his presence there. He could feel the IceWing follow suit beside him, the two dragons holding each other tight.

Qibli wished that he could keep Winter's happy, fulfilled expression in his mind forever, but his eyelids fell shut, and he fell into a deep slumber alongside his IceWing princess.

"Qibli...?"

The SandWing rose from the bed, letting out a terrific yawn. His gown flowed over his arms as he rubbed sleep from his eyes. He searched the room for the source of the noise, wondering idly what had roused him-

His eyes went wide. Standing in the doorway was a NightWing, silver scales lining her eyes. "Um. Hey, Moon," he said, not knowing his voice could pitch that high.

"Hey, yourself," she said, though her tone was anything but casual. "What... what are you wearing?"

"Just a silly dress," he said offhandedly, though he was entering fiery meltdown on the inside. Where was his skyfire? Was Moon reading his thoughts? What about Winter's? He tried to fill his mind with stupid things, loads of boring, non-confidential political work at Thorn's palace, and definitely not the image of their best friend hiding underneath the sheets next to him.

But that all came apart when Qibli felt his partner rouse, pulling onto his shoulders. "Nnh... Qibli... I demand more snuggles..." murmured the drowsy IceWing.

He knew he was screwed from how Moon arched her brows, but nothing prepared him for the hysterically confused look that crossed her face when Winter pulled himself up out of bed. Her eyes went so wide that Qibli thought that they were going to turn into actual moons. "W-Winter? What?! What are you... what are both of you wearing? Why are you sleeping together? Guys?"

Qibli watched in equal parts horror and excitement as Winter slowly turned his head towards her. He had no idea that IceWing manes were so expressive, but Winter's spines flared out like fur on a startled cat the moment he saw her. "Moon!" he yelped, her mere presence obliterating the sleepiness in his voice. "M-Moon! What are you doing here?! You shouldn't...!"

"Your front door was open!" she exclaimed. "I knocked on it once and it just swung open! And I didn't hear you say anything when I called for you, so I thought something happened to you! And I mean," she said, smothering a giggle, "clearly something has happened, but not what I expected! You look absolutely dashing... Princess Winter."

Somehow, despite being seen by both of his best friends in a princess gown, this was the best day of Qibli's life. He couldn't help but explode into laughter at the sight of Winter's face the moment she called him that, tears rolling down his cheeks as he fell back into the plush bed. "Moon!" he howled. "You can't just say something like that! You'll kill him!"

She tilted her head at them. "Oh, as if you're any more innocent, Princess Qibli. Is this what you two were up to the whole time? Just playing dress-up with each other? And, uh... napping with each other too, I suppose...?" She paused for a moment, then recoiled with a gasp as her eyes went wide again.

"Yeah! Of course, that's exactly it," he said very quickly. "That's completely it. Just two friends cozying up together. Isn't that right, Winter?"

For a moment, he thought he was actually going to die. Winter's tail rattled at him, the IceWing trembling in shades of such abject embarrassment and fury that primal fear flowed through Qibli's veins. "Y-yes," he finally said with a scowl, much to his relief. "That's right. That's all it was. Now g-get out! Qibli and I need to freshen up!"

Qibli wished the entire sun would just fall on Winter's little cabin and vaporize them all the second he heard those words. Confusion flitted across Moon's face before firm realization set in, a sly grin forming on her muzzle. "Oh! Well, I think that you two already look quite good already." she said, suppressing another laugh. "And we're going to be late to dinner if you take any more time."

He jumped off the bed, making sure his gown flowed beautifully before the stunned NightWing. "Are you sure?" he asked, cocking his head. "I'm sure the restaurant's open past sundown."

"Well, yes," Moonwatcher said, "but I ran into Tsunami and Riptide earlier today too. They wanted to see how we were doing after so long, so we're having dinner together! It'll be fun!"

Qibli had never experienced such high highs and low lows at the same time until this very moment. He let out a defeated sigh, reaching up to his gown to remove it when Moon tutted in admonishment. "We're going to be late," she said again, though evil befitting of Darkstalker clouded her smile this time. "I'm afraid you guys have to come as you are. That won't be a problem, will it?"