A/N: So, this one took far longer than I'd hoped for to get out, but I do hope the wait was worth it. This is one of those chapters that I've been looking forward to for a long time, and I think you'll enjoy it. So, I'll let you get to it!

But first, as always, feel free to favorite/follow the story and leave a review if you like it thus far, and enjoy the chapter!

Ch. 29: Diamond

The room was cold. Frigid. The temperature as cool as ice that not even the heat of a desert sun could melt. Darkstalker felt a chill go through his very soul as he stepped in to face the queen of the Icewings.

The room was also large, but empty, a few tables set against the wall and not in use along with an empty drawing board at the front. Two windows above it allowed the moonlight in, illuminating the room with a clawful of torches that added light but no heat.

He stepped forward, the click of his talons echoing off the walls. Behind him, the attendant closed the door, leaving the room. He was alone, save for one other dragon.

All of this Darkstalker could notice, but he did not even think about. For his full attention was drawn to the other dragon, sitting tall and regal before him. Her scales, as white as ice, gleamed in the light. Her horns shone dangerously above her head, a second crown behind the one that sat before them, a ring of icicles and diamonds that rose over her. Her piercing eyes, bluer than the sea, stared into him as she tapped a claw. He could see the muscle in her arms and neck beneath the sharp Icewing scales, radiating power just as much as the regal bearing she held.

This was his grandmother. This was Queen Diamond.

Darkstalker meet her gaze and held it, although it took all he had. Her very look seemed to cut daggers into him, the narrowing of her eyes slicing them across his scales. He swallowed, already his nerves beginning to fail him. And behind her eyes, her mind was a wall of ice, an impenetrable barrier like the cliffs around her kingdom that blocked all efforts to invade. Not in the same manner of Nightwings, who could be trained to hide away their thoughts and cover them with a sound of rain, but a different kind of way, as though through sheer will and force she held herself imperceptible.

She snorted, puffs of air leaving her nostrils condensing like clouds of smoke in the cold of the air. Her eyes narrowed further as her gaze mercifully left his own and inspected the rest of him, looking at his claws, his wings, his tail. Not a muscle she moved save her eyes, and Darkstalker stood there silently and let her. Despite the power that he held in himself once again, he could not help but feel he was the vulnerable one, at her mercy. And perhaps he was, for not only was the queen before him stronger physically, but she was an animus too. Icewing tradition regarding magic or not, she could cast a spell to kill him just as easily as he could her.

Diamond stood, her tail pulling around her, each lethal spike on its tip catching the light. She took a step forward, serrated talons glinting as they threatened to scratch the floor as she set her claw back down. Her eyes met his once again as she paused, towering over him in her stature.

She spoke, then, her voice like a snowstorm, strong and firm. Powerful, yet quiet, as though weariness or age had worn it so that it lost some of its cold command, though much still remained.

"You are Darkstalker."

It was more a statement than a question, and Darkstalker hesitated at her gaze. But he was Darkstalker, thrice-blessed by the moons. He was an animus, mindreader, and a seer. If any could stand before the Icewing queen, it would be him.

"I am."

He matched the command in the queen's voice, raising his chin. He was Darkstalker; he would not cower, come what may. Diamond may intimidate him, but he still held a power none rivaled, and he could face her own.

She snorted again, then tapped her tail before swinging it behind her and pulling something in front of her. Darkstalker wanted to hold her gaze, but looked down to see what it was, his curiosity getting the better of him. On the floor—and in Diamond's claws as she picked it up—was a small silver rod, about the length of one of her horns and roughly as thick. Her eyes flickered down to it as well, then back to him as he looked at her, suddenly a bit wary. The Icewings had many enchanted objects, after all, and Darkstalker was worried this was one, and he had no idea what it might do.

"Hold yourself still," Diamond spoke again, and she raised the rod. It gleamed almost menacingly in the dim light.

Instinctively, Darkstalker stepped back. "No," he growled, suddenly confused and uncertain, trying to think of all the futures he'd seen and what this could be, "I will not. What is that?"

Queen Diamond barred her teeth and growled right back, her eyes narrowing. "You will, or you will leave," she hissed, "It matters little to me. But you insisted you see me, and so you will listen, and obey, or else we shall end this whole bid for peace right here."

Darkstalker swallowed, but he could see that this was no idle threat. He looked at the silver rod once more, tried to glance into any immediate futures (the flashes didn't look like he was about to die), then nodded.

The Icewing queen held the rod out to him, but she did not touch him with it. Instead, she pulled it down the length of his neck, then down to his foreclaws. Slowly, and unnervingly, she began to step around him to the left, circling him, seemingly tracing his form with the object. Darkstalker craned his head as he watched, his heart beating fast as he tried to calm it down. She reached his hindquarters and went around him, beginning to do the same on his right side. She gave no expression as she worked, her focus on the silver rod and on his scales.

Darkstalker's confusion continued to grow as the queen did whatever it was she was doing. The rod continued to hover just inches from his scales as she moved. He was just about to demand once more what she was doing, why she was wasting his time, when he noticed a slight change. The rod was pulled down to his wrist, and it began to glow faintly, then brighter.

He narrowed his eyes as Queen Diamond frowned. The rod was shining like a fire now, so close to his talons he could almost feel it. He swallowed and opened his mouth to speak, but the Icewing queen beat him to it.

"What spell are you wearing?" she spoke harshly, and he was taken aback before he glanced down at his wrist. On it was a plain silver bracelet, one that he hadn't worn recently and had almost forgotten he'd put on. It was the band that he had enchanted back after he'd first met Indigo, the one that made his scales invulnerable.

"One of protection, that's all," he said coldly, giving a glare before looking at the rod again with renewed interest. It must detect other animus objects, he realized, Interesting. I may have to make one of those. He wondered if this was an older enchantment or if Diamond had made it herself for this occasion.

Diamond, however, was not amused. "Take it off," she hissed.

He lashed his tail. "No," he hissed back. He wasn't about to give up his first line of defense against any attack.

"I said, take it off. Now." She bared her teeth and rose to her full height, towering over him. Her horns gleamed dangerously as her piercing gaze dared him to defy her. "Remove it, or remove yourself."

There was that warning again, the threat of casting away all the work he'd put in to make it happen, and as much as he wanted to call her bluff, he couldn't. He hesitated, growled to himself, then slowly took off the silver bracelet and cast it aside onto the floor. Diamond watched him carefully as he did so, her gaze firmly on him even as he threw what had been her focus away. She tilted her head just a little, a spike of what might have been confusion in her mind for just a brief moment before she covered it over again.

She snorted, then resumed, combing him over for any other enchantments. There was little left to go—just the neck and the right side of his face—and she found nothing, for there was nothing there. She checked the left side of his face again, where an earring might be that she somehow missed, then stepped back. Diamond set the rod back on the ground, then twitched her tail as her icy gaze met his once more.

"You are Darkstalker," she said again, repeating the first words she spoke to him, but this time more questioningly. "Son of Prince Arctic?"

"I am," he repeated himself in turn.

Queen Diamond frowned. "You do not look half-Icewing," she observed, a challenge in her voice.

Darkstalker shifted, then lifted his wings, revealing the white scales beneath. They shone almost like hers in the light of the room, a shimmering reminder of his heritage as the torches flickered.

She took a step forward, a little hesitantly, which was a first for the queen. She raised a claw and outstretched it, then pulled away.

"May I?" she asked him, and he gave a cautious nod. Gently—tenderly, almost, although nothing about the dragoness seemed tender—she set a claw on those white scales. Her claw was cool against them, and he felt her trace the edges of them, as though testing if they were real. He felt it shake a little against his side, and he looked at her face and saw it tremble. In her mind, the barrier of ice seemed to crack, hidden emotion deep concealed breaking through at her touch.

That's when the attack came.

…At least, Darkstalker was sure it was an attack as it happened. One moment her claw had been on his side, and the next her whole body was on his own, wings around him pulling him closer and keeping him from fleeing. He expected to feel her sharp talons digging into his scales, slicing them, or her teeth trying to tear at his throat, but there was nothing there. She wasn't trying to kill him, and the realization of what was actually happening is all that kept him from clawing and biting at her in an effort to defend himself.

She wasn't attacking him. She was hugging him.

Queen Diamond, the Icewing that he had feared so much, was hugging him.

Darkstalker blinked, not returning her embrace as his mind raced. Was this a trick? Was she about to stab him in the back? Nothing about the situation made any sense. Yes, he'd seen some futures where his welcome was warmer—many more where it was anything but—but he'd not been expecting this. This was Queen Diamond, after all. The dragoness who had instructed his father to kill him. The dragoness that hired Quickdeath the assassin to kill him just a few weeks ago.

Yet in her mind, the ice wall she had somehow erected was fading. It was still there, but he could feel more emotion, the impressions of the thoughts she held. There was some joy there, excitement and expectation as her regal venire cracked. It was almost like her touch of his scales had cast a spell on her, completely changing how she looked at him and felt. And Darkstalker was still completely dumbfounded.

She pulled away from him, gently releasing his scales as she stepped back. Diamond ruffled her wings a little and began to regain her regal bearing, but it was different now. From her mind to her stance, there was less reservation, less coldness, as a gleam of that same excitement in her mind was in her eyes.

"Grandson," she spoke, as though experimenting with the word. It certainly sounded unusual to him, if nothing else. "It is…it is good to see you well." She took a deep breath, recomposing herself and not quite letting any emotion get the better of her.

"I…" Darkstalker began to say, then paused, still not sure how he felt. He had no idea what to say, or what to do. This was not going how he'd thought it would, and he couldn't tell if that was a good thing or not.

"I've waited a long time to see you," she told him, "You…I can see your father in you now, despite the black of your scales. Perhaps even some of myself."

He swallowed, not quite ready to respond yet. His eyes searched her, trying to figure out what in Pyrrhia was going on.

"You are well, aren't you? The Nightwings are good to you, I hope," she continued after a pause, her eyes roaming over him again, "I should be very upset if they would mistreat a prince of the Icewings, even as a prisoner."

Darkstalker twitched his tail, regaining himself, and nodded, although a bit more confused at that last bit. "I'm treated fine, as is Arctic. We live as any other Nightwings in the kingdom and are far from prisoners."

Queen Diamond's eyes narrowed a little. "Good. Although it's bold of Vigilance to give you such freedom. I'm sure she keeps a close eye on you."

He hesitated, then gave a small nod. "Yes, I'm sure she does. Although it's not really needed. We are content with our situation."

"I see…" she frowned, then shook her head. "Either way, I am glad—very glad—to see you safe. And one way or another, now that you're here we can finally bring you and Arctic back to the Ice Kingdom, away from your captors. I will make sure that you come home, where you belong."

He shook his head, resisting an urge to sigh or growl. Apparently, she thought that they were being held against their will. Which he supposed was an understandable assumption, even if it was far from reality. "We aren't prisoners; the Nightwings aren't our captors," he told her, "If I may be blunt, the Night Kingdom is our home. That's why I asked to meet you, so that we can end this war and stop this senseless fighting over Arctic."

Diamond growled, eying him a bit differently now. "I feared this," she said as she tapped a claw, "The Nightwings have tried to indoctrinate you, haven't they?"

"I was raised by both my mother and my father," Darkstalker retorted, "I've seen both views, and I know which one I am more akin to." He lashed his tail. "But I don't see why you care so much. After all, you tried to have me killed."

For the first time, the queen seemed genuinely taken aback. "What?" she hissed, her eyes widening slightly before narrowing. "Killed? I've done nothing of the kind."

"You have," he pushed, "I saw the letters that you sent to my father, telling him that you'd accept him home if he killed my sister and me. And I know that you hired Quickdeath the assassin to try to kill me."

"I…" she shook her head and growled, "You must be mistaken. I tried to send letters to Arctic, yes, but nothing like that. And I sent dragons to get to you, but not assassins. I have never done anything but try to rescue you and your father and sister. I've been trying to save you. I would never try to kill my grandchildren, even if you are a bit…tainted."

Darkstalker paused. He didn't like that last shot at his heritage, but her voice as well as what he could make out in her mind sounded genuine. It really did. But it contrasted with everything that he knew about Diamond—or at least that he thought he knew. And even if what she said was true, it still didn't make any sense.

"But the letters carried your seal," he growled, "And the assassin admitted that he was hired by Icewings after he failed to kill me." He paused and lashed his tail. "And besides, you did try to steal my mother away."

"Your mother?" Diamond huffed. "The Nightwing? If there was any dragon that I didn't want to save it was her, I admit. But I never could touch her, as it was impossible to get to you."

"Still, you tried," he hissed, "You used a summoning spell, or something similar. Foeslayer was in the desert by the time we caught her and were able to stop her. You enchanted my mother, and I can't help but feel that you weren't going to merely chat with her once she arrived to you."

The Icewing's eyes shifted away from him, and her tail tapped. "So…that spell did work," she observed, "I always wondered why she didn't show up. But why shouldn't I have? She stole my son—your father—and I was not about to let that filth get away with it. Icewings do not let their family get taken away like some jewel."

"But he wasn't stolen," Darkstalker insisted, "He just…"

"We shall see," Diamond hissed, silencing him, "Nightwings are cunning liars, Prince Darkstalker. There has been enough deceit in this war and conflict to last me several lifetimes. They came as emissaries of peace, you know, before stealing away my son. It was not enough for them to have mindreading and future sight, but they needed animus magic as well. They tell me he went willingly, yet hold him as a prisoner, and now you speak of letters and assassinations that came from me and yet did not."

"If not from you, then from whom?" he challenged.

Her eyes narrowed and her tail lashed dangerously, the spikes catching the light. "I do not know," she admitted, "There are few but those closest to me that have access to my seal. Almost any could hire an assassin, though, as shameful and cowardly as it is. But rest assured that any who dared try to split the scales of my own flesh and blood shall receive that same fate tenfold."

The sharp gleam in her eye that matched the sharpness of the teeth she bared in anger as she spoke told that she meant it, too. And that she would take great pleasure in the death of such a dragon, perhaps even doing it herself. Darkstalker was once more very glad that Foeslayer had never stood before the Icewing queen alone, for who knows what fate this dragoness would have given her?

"Yet these matters are not important at present, and shall be dealt with in due time, grandson," she spoke after a pause, "For now, I would like to see my son, at last. What he says will determine how we are to proceed."

Darkstalker hesitated, then nodded. His goal had been to make sure that Diamond was not about to try to steal them away (or worse, kill them), and so far, everything looked clear. In fact, it was almost better than he'd hoped. Diamond had seemed happy to see him, and if he wasn't so wary, he'd almost think that she was accepting and welcoming of him. But it still remained to be seen how much if any was an act, and he supposed that only having his father become involved would tell. At any rate, he would not allow himself to drop his guard. Not against the dragoness that had sent an assassin to kill him and wanted him dead—possibly, at least. He still couldn't be sure, and he was still wrapping his mind around the Diamond he was seeing being so different from the one he'd feared.

Diamond called out for her attendant, and the Icewing from earlier opened the door and stepped through, his eyes flickering from her to him.

"Bring in Prince Arctic," she told him, and with a nod he vanished.

A moment passed, the only sound the whoosh of Diamonds tail in the air as she lashed it behind her impatiently. She took a deep breath and straightened herself, looking more like she had when he'd first entered. She caught him looking at her and gave a soft snort.

"I had feared I would never see him again," she told him, although he wasn't sure why, "It has been far too long."

Darkstalker said nothing, only shifting uncomfortably as they waited. The torches flickered faintly in the room, casting dancing shadows on the walls. Diamond tapped a talon, the sound echoing faintly in the silence. Finally, the doors opened again, and in stepped his father.

Arctic seemed to have a range of emotions behind the cold stance he attempted to convey. Fear and excitement. Anger and apprehension. Resentment yet affection. All these were in his mind as he approached his mother slowly with cautious footsteps. His gaze flickered to Darkstalker, a silent question as to if things were okay, and Darkstalker gave a nod.

The Icewing prince stepped up to Diamond, stopping only a tail's length away. Despite any fear, he stood strong, even as he was given the same gaze that Darkstalker had been given just minutes ago, the once full of ice, judging his every flaw. Darkstalker glanced back and forth as he watched, preparing to spring into action at any notion of a wrong move.

"Mother," Arctic finally said, greeting her, his voice cold and firm.

Diamond lifted her head farther, towering even over Arctic, a dragon that had always seemed so strong, intimidating, and Icewing-like. Yet all that Arctic was paled before the Queen.

"Arctic," she spoke his name, her tail sweeping behind her. Then, she gave a very small smile. "It is good to see you, son."

She stepped towards him, and he took a step back, eying her warily. Her eyes narrowed and she snorted, stopping her advance. "I'm not going to hurt you," she told him, her tail twitching behind her.

"I know," Arctic said, "But all the same, keep your distance."

Diamond stepped back, glanced towards Darkstalker, then looked back at him. "Darkstalker tells me that you have been well treated in the Night Kingdom," she said after a pause, "He also claims that you were not, in fact, stolen from the Ice Kingdom. But here, now, away from the Nightwings and alone, you may speak the truth. You need not fear any retribution from your captors for speaking lies."

Arctic frowned and shook his head. "I needn't fear any at all. No lies have been said. I was never stolen; I left of my own free will."

She lashed her tail and gave a low growl. "As I suspected," she sighed, "I don't know how, but they have you under some sort of enchantment. We need only remove it, and the truth will be revealed soon enough."

Just as with Darkstalker, her tail swept around and brought her the silver rod to detect animus-touched objects. She stepped forward again, raising it in a claw as Arctic backed away.

It's a trick! The Icewing's mind screamed as he looked at the rod with confusion, She'll enchant me and make me return to the Ice Kingdom with her!

"Don't, mother," he hissed, baring his claws, "I will not leave my mate, not after all this time. No matter what you do, I will resist."

She paused, holding the silver rod higher. "That's not…I just need to check you."

"I told you to keep your distance," he growled again, his tail lashing threateningly behind him.

She gave a growl of her own before turning to the third dragon in the room. "Darkstalker," she said to him, motioning him over with a tilt of her head and holding the object out to him, "Check your father like I checked you. Be thorough."

Darkstalker looked at her for a moment, uncertain, then took it and stepped towards Arctic, who watched him suspiciously.

"It's okay," he told his father, "It just looks for animus-touched objects."

"I know that," Arctic huffed, "It's an old tool. But even old ones can have new magic placed in them." He shot a glare at his mother.

"She used it on me, and I don't feel any different," Darkstalker told him, "I don't think there's any danger in it. It's just a precaution."

"Even so, be careful," he hissed lowly, and the Icewing kept his eyes on Diamond as Darkstalker began to imitate what she'd done to him just a few minutes ago. Keeping it a few inches from his scales, he went over his father's form searching for anything that could be animus-touched. Occasionally Diamond would instruct him to go back over a spot as she watched, moving a little bit with him to see what he was doing, no doubt having a little doubt in him as well as his father. Her piercing gaze searched every inch of Arctic's body, looking perhaps even closer than the rod could for any spells.

Despite the situation, though, Darkstalker couldn't help but find himself a little intrigued, as well. He'd always wondered if Arctic had other spells, other items, that he'd never told anyone else about. Perhaps an imitation of Foeslayer's protection spell that he himself used, or some other secret object that would come in handy. If so, Darkstalker was sure he would be using it now.

But in the end, there was nothing. Even as he went over the earring and horn band his father wore three times, the silver rod failed to light up even once. Arctic wore no enchantments—not a single one.

Diamond frowned as he stepped towards her to return the rod. "No," she growled, "Search him again."

"But…"

"Again," her voice was firm, demanding, and left no room to question.

So he checked his father again. And again. Four times in total she told him to do it, each time the Queen growing more confused, concerned, and exasperated, so that by the end she was visibly pacing, her walls of ice in her mind and stance crumbling even more than they had with him.

Impossible, he heard her thinking, the first clear words he'd heard from her mind, Impossible, impossible, impossible. All the while Arctic just stood there, his cold gaze upon her as she tore the floor with her serrated claws as she walked around him.

"I don't...what does this mean?" she asked to no one in particular as she growled to herself, lashing her tail and shaking her head. "This must be a trick."

"There is no trick, mother," Arctic finally spoke again, his voice more confident, "And it means just what you know it does. I'm not under any enchantment, and I never have been."

"But I don't understand," Diamond could no longer keep any frustration or confusion out of her voice, "If this is true…then why…?"

Arctic took a deep breath and let it out. "Because I fell in love," he told her.

"With a Nightwing?" Diamond's voice was raised to just short of a shout, making both Arctic and Darkstalker flinch, the very tone of it telling without words how completely ridiculous and unbelievable she found the notion.

"Yes," Arctic answered, just a little more meekly.

Diamond fixed him with a look before shaking her head and looking down, growling to herself. She raised a claw to her head and Darkstalker could see her grimace. "Arctic," she hissed his name, "You—"

"I love her, mother, and she loves me," he cut her off before she could continue, "I loved her so much that I left the Ice Kingdom for her, and I'd do it again. I have no regrets about that. She is my mate, and I will not abandon her and my family. It's not right for a dragon, and especially not an Icewing."

The queen gave a tired sigh, dropping her claw back to the ground as she fixed him with another look. "If that is the case, Arctic, why didn't you tell me? We could have worked something out."

"Worked something out?" Arctic somehow had the gall to give a dry laugh, "Mother, if I would have come to you and told you I was in love with a Nightwing, you would have locked me in my room until they left, if not immediately sent them away, and that's at best." He lashed his tail. "You can't honestly say that you wouldn't have done everything you could to stop or dissuade me."

Diamond looked down, and if Darkstalker was honest, she looked far familiar now. This was a kind of battle between dragons that he'd witnessed before, being a player himself. For this was not really a situation between a queen and a subject, but between a mother and a son.

"Yes, yes I probably would have," she admitted, meeting Arctic's eyes, "But you still should have tried. Arctic, you should have told me, one way or another, instead of running off with them." She growled, "And nor does that justify you taking the lives of those in your tribe."

It was Arctic's turn to look down and away, Darkstalker seeing the flashed of guilt in his mind, the memories of the Icewings that he'd mistakenly killed with his magic. It made his own scales shiver a little, thinking of the damage that was done that day.

"I did try to tell you," he said, more subdued, not looking at her, "I wrote you so many letters…"

"And I was supposed to believe them?" Diamond scoffed, "Was I really supposed to believe that the letters from my stolen son that said 'I'm fine, stop fighting' were authentic and not something he was forced by his captors to write? I would have to be one of the greatest of fools to think that!"

"All the same," Arctic sighed, "It was me that wrote them."

"Still," the queen continued, not even acknowledging that, "Even if what you say is true, it still doesn't make sense. All the signs pointed to you getting stolen. The signs of struggle in your room…the dead guards who were protecting you…we even found the necklace of one of the Nightwings covered in blood in your quarters. How were we supposed to believe you'd gone peacefully and meant no ill?"

Arctic looked up slowly and blinked, confusion on his face. "My quarters?" he asked, frowning, "I…you're right, that doesn't make sense. Nothing happened in the palace; I left without incident. We snuck away without harming a single guard until the patrol that caught up to us in the desert."

"No," Diamond insisted, "We found dead guards outside your room, killed by the Nightwings. The proof is unquestionable."

Arctic shook his head. "The guards were fine when I left. They were just sleeping, drugged. They should have woken up an hour or two after I left, not died!"

For his part, Darkstalker could see and hear no lies in his father's mind. At the same time, the certainty in Diamond's was absolute. He would not question that Arctic left the guards alive, but nor could he question that they had been killed. Darkstalker tapped his tail and narrowed his eyes. Something wasn't quite right.

"If you weren't responsible, then who was?" Diamond growled, "Icewing soldiers do not simply slice their own throats."

"I…I don't know," Arctic sighed, "All I know is that whatever happened was not due to Foeslayer or me. We left the guards well. Someone elsemust have done it."

"Who, then?" she challenged, "And why?"

"I don't know," Arctic repeated, his wings falling at his sides, his voice almost more pleading than defensive, "Mother, I don't know."

Diamond's face softened somewhat, and she gave a deep breath. Sitting back on her haunches, she sighed as she looked Arctic over once more before her glance shifted to Darkstalker.

"He's not lying," Darkstalker told her, "I'm certain of that, as a mindreader."

A lack of reaction at that latter part indicated that Diamond was already well aware of the fact. Which wasn't surprising, really; he'd expected that she'd have known quite a bit about him. Even in a state of war, the Icewings had their ways of getting intelligence, and word of an animus like him with his power had doubtless made it to her long before the meeting.

"I don't believe he is, either," Diamond said to him, tapping a claw, "Arctic has never been a good liar; I never taught him to be," she snorted, "But then, I never thought I'd raised him to be the kind to run off with a Nightwing."

Arctic bristled, but she raised a claw to calm him. "We'll investigate the matter in due course," she told her son, "For now, my main concern is still where we go from here. Whether to extend this war and how to ensure your safety. Of course, I was hoping to bring you home…"

"My home is with my mate," Arctic said, "And if you try to separate us, if you try to take me away from her, I will fly to the farthest corners of Pyrrhia and beyond to keep my family safe. Continue to wage war if you wish, but I will never allow you to hold control over me and my magic. I know that animus magic is a powerful tool for the tribe, but I won't—"

"I never cared about your animus magic," Diamond cut him off, her voice frustrated and more emotional than it had ever been before as she stood and lashed her tail behind her so violently it screamed in the air, "I just wanted my son back! Is that so hard?"

Arctic fell silent, genuinely taken aback, and so was Darkstalker. Diamond breathed heavily, raising a claw up to adjust the crown on her head that had slipped in her outburst. She closed her eyes, and Darkstalker thought he saw a tear on the corner of one before she opened her eyes and sat down.

"Do not think that you are the only one who's been engaged in this war for the sake of family," she said, quietly, before she swallowed and began to regain herself once more. Arctic looked down at his talons, shifting on his feet, his mind holding soft emotion at her words. There was a level of care there that Darkstalker could see, a genuine sense of brokenness in both of them over what had happened, and what continued to go on.

"Mother, I…" Arctic began to say something, but trailed off, not able to put in words what he was thinking and feeling. He gave a shaky breath and continued to look down. Save for the time that they'd almost lost Foeslayer, this was the smallest Arctic had ever looked to Darkstalker.

Diamond gave a small shake of her head and a tired hiss. "You've always had a strong resolve, my son," she addressed Arctic, "And there's no doubt of where you get it from. If you've tied yourself to this Nightwing, then I suppose it does behoove you to stand by her." She swished her tail behind her, far less violently now. "I sought to bring you home, and perhaps I may still in a way, but I think it's clear that I will not seize you by any force I may have. So tell me, Arctic, what would you have me do?"

His father looked up, confused for a moment, then determined. "Mother, if you love me, then let me live in peace with my mate and family. Let me go where I want to, live how I want to. Please, end this war and pain and death that has followed me and my mate like a shadow."

She met his eyes for a moment, then nodded slowly. Gently, she unfurled a wing, holding it out. "Arctic, come here," she said, softly, and her son obeyed, stepping forward hesitantly, then confidently, into her embrace. Much like she had with Darkstalker, she held him close. Perhaps closer, too, in a way only a mother can hold her son, and Arctic rested on her. And for the first time in such a clear way, Darkstalker saw a glimpse of who his father had been, and what he'd given up.

Diamond still held his father, but she looked up and her eyes met his. "Grandson," she said, her voice and eyes so less cold than they had been before, "Your father and I have much to discuss, and I think it would best that we be private."

He nodded, not afraid in the moment to leave his father alone with her, and went to leave, but she stopped him, calling out a second time.

"Tell my attendants and Queen Vigilance that they may begin drawing up treaties," she told him, a somber smile on her face as she rested her head on her son's, "I think this war has gone on for too long already."