A/N: Sorry for the longer wait on this one, guys, but I did warn you this time. Unfortunately, recreation sometimes has to take a back seat to real life sometimes. Although, with a long break on the horizon, I'm optimistic that I can get some quality writing done and make more timely updates in the near future. That's my hope, at least.
As always, feel free to favorite, follow, and/or leave a review if you like the story so far. And, of course, enjoy chapter 8.
Chapter 8: A Normal Dinner Party
Darkstalker had never been particularly fond of the taste of fish, but even he had to admit that the scent of the meal Foeslayer was preparing for his friend smelled delicious.
"You didn't have to go all out, mom," he told her from just outside their house's small kitchen, "It's just Fathom; it's not like Vigilance is coming to dine or anything."
"You mean 'Queen Vigilance'?" Foeslayer corrected him, and he resisted an eye-roll. He saw no reason to pretend to be so respectful to the queen that he knew he'd eventually the place of. If he chose to follow those paths, it was better to keep some distance there.
…but now wasn't the time for those thoughts. His mother was home from the war and his friend was coming to visit, so now was a time for joy and laughter and memory making. So instead he let a smile grace his face as he stole a nibble of one of the geese that Foeslayer had had him fetch from the market earlier for all of the non-Seawings who would be eating. The meat was warm but not cooked, just as most dragons prefer it, but filled with some of the spices that gave it more flavor and that the heat brought out. He knew that most dragons didn't care much for preparing their food in any way, but Foeslayer had picked up the habit from her mother and liked to do more with her food than just kill it and eat it.
"Hey," Clearsight cried jokingly as she saw him eating, "Save some for the rest of us."
She had, of course, been there most of the evening already. Part of the time she'd spent doing some writing in his room (probably of the future, like always), but she'd also helped Foeslayer with her preparations a bit. His mother had enjoyed telling her about the different herbs and spices she used to bring out more flavor, and Clearsight seemed to enjoy learning. Considering that the meal now consisted of both fish and fowl, she'd gotten plenty of opportunity to learn about what went into the different meals. At any rate, the food was done and now they just had to wait for Fathom, their guest of honor.
Well…and Indigo. And Artic, but hopefully not him.
His father was at the palace and had said that he didn't know when he'd be back, and Darkstalker was more than fine if he missed the meal altogether. The last thing he wanted was for an argument to break out between Arctic and Foeslayer, or Arctic and himself, in front of Fathom. Foeslayer had thrown this little party in order to meet his Seawing friend, after all; Arctic didn't need to be present for that to happen.
He walked over to where Clearsight sat at a small table across from Whiteout. The two had been playing a game of scales and squares, and while Clearsight seemed to be losing she also looked to be faring better than he ever could against his little sister. This would also be Whiteout's first time meeting Fathom, but at least Darkstalker knew that she wouldn't cause any problems. His sister was the sweetest and nicest dragoness he knew, with the possible exception of Clearsight.
"You really couldn't wait?" Clearsight continued to joke a little, a smile in her eyes. He could tell that she was enjoying herself, and she looked far more relaxed than usual. Perhaps whatever futures she'd seen today had been particularly good.
He just shrugged his wings in response and glanced out the window, half expecting to get a glimpse of blue and purple wings outside. Fathom and Indigo knew where their house was even if they hadn't ever gone in before—he'd pointed it out several times during flights—so he wasn't worried about them getting lost. Perhaps they'd just overslept a bit; after all, the Seawings still hadn't made any real attempt to adjust themselves to the Nightwing schedule.
Shaking his head a little bit, he turned his attention away from the window and back to Clearsight and Whiteout's game. In just the few moments he'd looked away already things had begun to slide farther downhill for Clearsight, and though she gave a valiant fight Whiteout ultimately beat her handily a few minutes later. It wasn't a humiliating defeat, but it hurt just a little to see that it was better than any loss Darkstalker had suffered from his sister.
It was while they were setting up for another game that he finally felt the minds of the dragons he was waiting for brushing up against his own. For some dragons it could be difficult to identify them simply from their thoughts, but that wasn't the case for Fathom and Indigo. Their minds were simply formed somewhat differently, an odd…texture, so to say, that his own mind had already begun to associate as Seawing. It was similar for his father, too, with a different overall feel to the Icewing mind that wasn't quite like the ordinary Nightwing mind. It wasn't bad in the slightest, it was just unusual and stood out among all the other thoughts and minds Darkstalker came across every day.
He listened in a bit more the closer the two minds came, and Clearsight caught the look in his eyes that he often had when he was mindreading.
"They're coming?" she asked, and when he nodded in response the two dragonesses began to put away the game instead of starting a new one. Less than a minute later he could hear their wingbeats, then the sound of two dragons landing outside.
He was out of the room and at the door and opened it before Fathom could even knock, although his Seawing friend had his talons up and ready to rap on it. Indigo stood behind him, a collected expression on her face even as he could hear a bit of controlled panic in her head. Apparently, while she seemed to have accepted that he wasn't planning to murder Fathom, she still was far from comfortable enough around him to walk into his home without at least some reservations.
He decided to ignore her for now and focus on Fathom. "Come in," he said with a grin, trying not to make anything awkward, "Dinner's ready for you."
Fathom smiled in return and entered with a "thank you". Indigo followed close behind, and Darkstalker could see her eyes rather than hear her mind immediately begin to scrutinize his house and identify potential threats and exit points.
"This is your home?" Fathom asked, glancing around himself, though nowhere near as thoroughly as Indigo, "It's nice."
Darkstalker gave a tiny, almost unnoticeable huff. It was a nice home—Vigilance had to make sure that "her" animuses were well taken care of—but it was nowhere near a palace. It was comfy, but it had never fit his own personal ideas of extravagance.
Hearing footsteps, he turned to see Clearsight walking into the room. "Hi, Fathom. Hi, Indigo." She said, giving a friendly nod and smile to each of them. Fathom returned the greeting, but Indigo was still preoccupied with ensuring the place was safe to be in.
He set his wing lightly against Clearsight as she walked up next to him. The four of them just stood there for a moment, looking at each other, before Darkstalker suddenly remembered the whole reason they were there to begin with.
So much for keeping things from being awkward, he thought even as he turned his head and opened his mouth. "Fathom's here, mom," he called out to Foeslayer in the other room. Since she wanted to meet Fathom, they may as well meet.
"One second," he heard her voice yell, then a small clatter. A moment later she emerged none the worse for wear, a look of expectation on her face.
"Mother, this is Fathom," he introduced his friend, taking his wing from Clearsight and walking over and setting it on his shoulder. "Fathom, this is my mother, Foeslayer."
"A pleasure to meet you," Fathom said politely, bowing his head slightly and giving a small spread of his wings. It was a somewhat formal gesture, reminding Darkstalker that his friend was a prince—something that he almost tended to forget.
"And you, too," Foeslayer responded, returning the motion, though far less rigidly. "Prince Fathom, thank you for coming. Darkstalker has spoken so much about you, I knew I had to meet you sooner or later."
"All good things, I hope," Fathom joked, dropping the formality somewhat.
"Of course good things," Darkstalker responded, nudging him with his wing, "Like you've even done anything bad that I could talk about." Unfortunately, instead of laughing Fathom's face fell a little, and he could hear the Seawing's thoughts turn to all the horrible things that he could do, that he was terrified that he might do. Darkstalker opened his mouth to say something else, to distract him and fix it, but his mother beat him to it.
"And who is this?" she asked, nodding towards Indigo who'd yet to say a word.
Indigo's mind had continued to be focused on Fathom's safety, and Darkstalker had pretty much tuned her out, but at the mention of her name her mind suddenly jolted out of whatever she was thinking about, alarm going off as she was unexpectedly brought into the conversation. Her head shot up and eyes went a little wide as she met his mother's gaze.
"This is Indigo," Fathom introduced her, "She'd my guard—and friend."
"Ah, yes," Foeslayer said, "I think I remember Clearsight mentioning you before." She took a step towards the Seawing dragoness, looking her over. "You have beautiful purple scales," his mother complimented her, "Purple has always been my favorite color, especially dark purple like your scales are."
"Thank you," Indigo said, her voice sounding much more uncertain than it normally did.
Darkstalker had never really looked that hard before, but at his mother's words he glanced a bit more than he usually did at Indigo's scales. They were a rather pretty shade of purple, he couldn't deny. Not too much lighter than some of the deep purple scales that some Nightwings had, actually. He wondered if she could match the gracefulness of a Nightwing flying under the stars. And, if he remembered correctly, those scales felt so nice against his own in that future he'd seen—
No! He screamed at himself internally, catching his thoughts before they began to run once more down that road. It was a thought process that he really wanted to avoid, as it only seemed to trigger more of those visions that he really, really didn't want to have come true.
Unfortunately, it was one that he was struggling to suppress recently. It seemed like the more he tried to ignore what he'd seen in those unexpected visions regarding the Seawing dragoness, the more they prevailed in his mind. It didn't help that in the previous few days he'd been having more visions of the same or similar futures as the ones that had caught him so off guard before. In fact, ever since he'd had that talk with Indigo a little less than a week ago, he'd had a glimpse of some sort of vision with him and her together almost every day.
It was worrying, it was frustrating, and he really had no idea what to make of it. Part of him demanded that he proceed how he'd originally planned—to just remove Indigo from the equation altogether and get back to how things were supposed to be—but another part of him urged caution and patience. Despite how she'd wanted to kill him at their first meeting and how she was so against his use of magic, after talking with her a bit of him had been intrigued. He doubted that Clearsight was right and that she could be as good a friend of Fathom, but there was just something about her that must be causing his mind and visions to take such weird paths, and he wanted to know what it was before he did any action as rash as killing her, which was still a valid option in many of the other, more prevalent futures he was familiar with.
"Well, the food's ready," he heard his mother say, "We can get better acquainted over dinner."
He shook his head a little as his Seawing guests followed Foeslayer and Clearsight into the adjacent dining room. Now was not the time to be worrying about such things, and even if Indigo did have pretty scales, then that meant absolutely nothing in relation to any vision he'd ever had.
"This is Whiteout, my sister," he told Fathom, sweeping in from behind and introducing his sister who had been waiting for them by the dining table.
"I'm Fathom, pleased to meet you," Fathom told her, a small smile on his face, "Darkstalker says you're quite good at games. Perhaps we can play something after diner."
"Fathom," Whiteout responded, "You're as blue as Darkstalker said you were. Like the sea."
"Thank you," Fathom said, giving Darkstalker a small, confused glance. Probably because he had green scales, not blue ones. Darkstalker had told him more than once about his sister's…peculiar way of looking at thinks and talking, but he knew how jarring it could be to anyone who didn't spend much time around her.
"She thinks you're nice," he whispered to Fathom. That was normally what she seemed to mean when referring to things as 'blue'.
"Oh," Fathom said, then looked back to Indigo, who stood silently behind him. "This is Indigo," he told Whiteout, "She's…"
"A rainstorm," Whiteout said before Fathom could finish, tilting her head at Indigo slightly. "Which way are you falling? Are your drops splashing my brother?" she asked the dragoness.
"Umm…" was Indigo's only response. Darkstalker could hear her mind racing as she tried to understand what it was she was being asked. With her focus still on safety and her discomfort almost palpable, Whiteout's question had caught her completely offguard. Honestly, Darkstalker had no idea what his sister meant, but it was amusing to hear Indigo scramble for something to say.
Fortunately for Indigo, his mother spoke up before she had to say anything. "Everything's ready to eat," she said, motioning them all over to the table, "Sit anywhere. I prepared fish for our guests, but feel free to eat anything."
They took their spots, then without much problem. Darkstalker seated himself to the right of Clearsight, who had Whiteout on her left. Across the table Fathom sat with Indigo, and Foeslayer went next to him, but at the end of the table. As they began to serve themselves his mother began to ask Fathom some questions, just general introductory things about his life in the Sea Kingdom. For his part, Fathom seemed delighted to talk with her about his old home, and Darkstalker noticed a twinge of longing in his friend's voice that he'd never really heard before as he spoke.
For the most part, Darkstalker stayed engaged with Foeslayer and Fathom's conversation, although he did occasionally chime into a few side conversations that Whiteout and Clearsight had in response to it. After all, the point of having Fathom over was for his mother to get to know him better, so he didn't try to steal any conversation away from her, but he did comment several times when there was something to say. By far the quietest dragon at the table was Indigo, though, who hardly said anything except for when Foeslayer intentionally directed a few questions her way. He could still hear confusion and worry in her head, although it had died down considerably and was now mainly seemed to surround…him? Indigo could be a difficult dragoness to read, somehow able to keep a neutral mind and body even in potentially difficult situations, so he couldn't make it out completely, but what he could read in her mind seemed to be questioning him in some way. He couldn't be sure if it was good or bad.
They were all about halfway through the meal and he was trying to glean a bit more information from Indigo's mind when another presence distracted him, on the edge of the reach of his mind and getting closer. A sharp presence, one even more distinct than the Seawings with him. One that he'd hoped he wouldn't be hearing that morning.
Just great…, he thought to himself sarcastically as he realized that his father was about to be joining them. Clearsight noticed his shift in mood and the frown on his face and gave him a questioning look seconds before the door opened and Artic entered into the other room, distracting everyone else from the conversation.
Darkstalker was unsurprised to see look of displeasure on the Icewing's face when he walked into the dining room and beheld them all. While his father had been told that the Seawings would be coming, he'd not been nearly as pleased with the prospect as Foeslayer had been. Then again, seldom did anything really please his father. Nowadays all he ever seemed to do was complain about the situation he'd gotten himself into. If it wasn't for his mother, Darkstalker knew that Arctic would have gone back to the Ice Kingdom a long time ago.
A silence fell as everyone else beheld the new arrival. Arctic looked over them with slightly narrowed eyes until his gaze fell on Fathom, who shifted uncomfortably under it. "You," he said in a way that sounded almost accusatory, making Fathom flinch and Indigo bristle, "You're the one they sent to make sure Darkstalker doesn't drive himself evil, aren't you?"
"Y-yes," Fathom responded, clearly unsure of what else to say, "I'm Fathom. I—"
"Good," Arctic said, cutting him off as he approached the table and sat down at the only open spot on the end next to Whiteout, "Perhaps you can reach him. I certainly can't."
Darkstalker snorted. "As if there's anything you can even do about it."
Artic growled in response and opened his mouth to retort, but Foeslayer spoke before he could. "Please, let's not get into that tonight. Not in front of guests."
His father glared at her, but only for a moment. Darkstalker could hear the anger in his mind die down as he reluctantly obeyed his mate. There was still a lot that Arctic wanted to say, but he held back for her sake, even though it was begrudgingly. It was in the few moments like these when Darkstalker could truly see the feelings that his father had for his mother, even if he seldom acted on them like he was now. "Very well," was all the Icewing had to say before he began serving himself, taking one of the fish that had been prepared for the Seawings.
Darkstalker couldn't suppress a small grin that his father had given up before Foeslayer gave him a warning glare. Clearly, if she wasn't going to have it from her mate, she wasn't going to have it from her son. He forced himself into a more neutral expression as Clearsight tried to revive a line of conversation from before Arctic's entrance, something about Fathom's life before he'd found out he was an animus.
Only a few words were exchanged, though, before another silence fell. Partially due to them eating, and partially due to Arctic's presence. In past conversations with Fathom, Darkstalker had made no secrets about the less-than-stellar relationship he had with his father, and he had no doubt that Fathom had remembered what he'd said, if the glances the Seawing was giving Arctic meant anything. Clearly, Fathom had no clue how to approach the Icewing, and everyone else at the table who already knew him was being cautious not to say anything to provoke him. Alone out of all of them, Whiteout seemed unfazed by the almost chill in the air that had been brought by his father's arrival.
The silence was almost deafening, especially as they began to finish their meals and have no good excuse not to talk. Darkstalker could hear his mother's mind searching for a topic that Arctic wouldn't be able to start a conflict with, but in the end it was Indigo who spoke up, for practically the first time that night.
"Darkstalker said you're part of an air defense crew," she said, addressing Foeslayer, "I'm sure it's nice to be home for a while."
"Yes, it is," his mother replied, and Darkstalker could tell she was relieved to be talking again, "It's nice to get away from the war, even if I'm not exactly in the thickest of it. My company stays farther back in our defensive formations; we've hardly ever had to use anything more than our longest-ranged ballistae."
"Oh, so you're not too close to any of the fighting?" Indigo questioned.
"Not really," Foeslayer answered, "The beginning of the war saw a lot more action, but for the last two years there's only been a talonful of serious engagements."
"Too many," Arctic grumbled, and Darkstalker had to agree. One of the very few things that he and his father agreed about was that it was better for Foeslayer not to be involved in the war, but she was instant that she due her duty. She'd told him before that she felt responsible for the conflict and that she couldn't bear it to have other dragons die while she did nothing. It was a respectable sentiment, but one that Darkstalker wished she didn't hold. He'd much rather she be safe than in danger, regardless of her sense of duty.
"How long are you home?" It was Fathom who asked this time.
"Only a week," came her response, "I have five more days until I need to return to my outfit."
"Oh, hey," Clearsight exclaimed, "That means you'll be here for my hatching day. It's only in three days."
The mention of that almost caught Darkstalker by surprise. He'd known that it was coming up, but certain other things had been on his mind recently. He made a mental note to think of a creative gift for her. Perhaps an enchanted object or two will do nicely, he thought to himself. He'd have to think harder on what exactly any spells would detail later.
"Is it, now?" Foeslayer asked, arching an eye ridge slightly, "Well, we'll have to do something special for it, then."
Clearsight faltered just a little, "Thanks, but you don't need to do anything. It'll just be nice to see you, is what I meant. I wouldn't expect you to—"
"Nonsense," his mother huffed, "You're Darkstalker's friend, Clearsight, and a very welcome dragoness. I'm not sure what we can do, but I'm sure there's some way we can make your hatching day special. I'll just have to give it more thought."
"But its really no big deal..." Clearsight tried to insist, but Darkstalker knew it would be useless.
"If mother wants to do something special for you, just let her," he told her, "As you know, I got more of my own stubbornness from her than my father."
That earned an amused huff from Arctic. Got that right, he heard him think; it could only take a dragoness with a will as strong as or greater than Arctic's to keep him here.
The dinner concluded not too long afterwards, once all had eaten their share. Fathom was diligent in complimenting the meal, declaring it to be a very different (in a good way) meal than he was used to. Apparently, such herbs and spices that Foeslayer enjoyed using weren't very accessible in the Sea Kingdom, even for a prince. Of course, such a thing would make sense; most Seawings used more sea-born flavoring, if any at all. Darkstalker was honestly a bit doubtful that his friend enjoyed it as much as he claimed, but a quick glance in his mind indicated that he really had. Perhaps a few weeks of Nightwing food had changed his tastes.
Arctic disappeared once he had finished his own meal, no doubt to seek solitude in his own room. Darkstalker helped his mother dispose of some of the scraps while Clearsight and Whiteout began to set up a game of scales and squares and teach Fathom how to play. Not far away, Indigo sat watching and listening as they explained the rules, and he could hear her mind become intrigued by the strategy of it.
He was in the other room, scraping some of the remains of one of the geese off the serving platter and into the rubbish bin where it could be taken to be burned later, when Foeslayer approached him separate from the rest. She said nothing immediately, rather turning to put a few of her spices away that had been left setting out, but when he turned to leave he felt her tail wrap around his. He looked back at her and saw a small smile on her face.
"Fathom seems like a very nice young drake," she told him, "Thank you for agreeing to have him over."
"He's a good dragon and a good friend," Darkstalker said, returning her smile, "I knew that before I even met him."
"Of course you did," she reached a claw over and set it on one of his, "It just makes me glad to be able to know him myself, to see who exactly it is my son spends so much time with."
She left it there but put her wings in around him in a motherly embrace and nuzzled his cheek slightly. He returned the gesture and squeezed her tail before she pulled her wings away and let him go. There was a warm feeling in his chest as he departed, the kind of warmth that comes from being loved and the sense of belonging. He may have been less than a year from leaving dragonethood, but he still had that same love for his mother that he had when he hatched.
It wasn't until he was walking back into the dining room where Fathom was playing against Whiteout that he noticed Indigo had moved from her previous spot at the game. She'd moved a bit back and more towards the doorway, a spot where she could easily have looked through the door seen and heard his brief interaction with his mother. She was looking at him with a slightly confused look on her face, and he had a feeling that she'd done exactly that, whether intentionally or not. He was more than a little tempted to read her mind and see exactly why she seemed so confused by that small exchange, but he decided instead to just ignore her and turn his attention towards the game that Whiteout was, unsurprisingly, winning.
Fathom and Indigo stayed for about an hour longer before leaving, with most of that time spent with Fathom losing game after game to Whiteout and to Clearsight once Whiteout had grown tired and left them. He thanked them profusely once more for the invitation before he and Indigo took off. Clearsight left not long later, sighting work she needed to do for the queen.
With the sun rising high outside, Darkstalker went to his room and lied down on his bed. He did a quick check of the futures, looking for anything out of the ordinary that might indicate that he was on any path he didn't want to be on, any path concerning a rather specific Seawing. He didn't expect to see anything—he never saw those futures when he was looking for them—and so was unsurprised to have his expectations met. With no real hint of trouble on the horizon, he went to sleep.
A/N: Yes, I know, there wasn't much action in this one either. But the next chapter will take place a bit before Clearsight's hatching day, and you may just recall what else happens then...