A/N: This one was inspired by Rurikredwolf's story Broken Jade. His is still in the early chapters, but I recommend checking it out.

I have some more to say, but I'll keep it 'till the end. Enjoy the story!

"It's moving!" Moonwatcher exclaimed as she watched her egg with a myriad of emotions. Joy, love, apprehension, fear…it was all there as she looked over the shell containing the tiny life. She could hear the little mind inside, thoughts half formed, as it began to struggle against its miniature prison, pushing out and away and into the big world outside.

"I think it's hatching," Qibli said, excitement in his voice as he stood next to her, wing around her as she was pressed up against him, "If not right now, then sometime tonight." He glanced out through the window, at the two moons shining brightly and the third a small sliver. They'd been keeping the egg on a small bedding by the windowsill each night, so the moonlight would reach it. And with two nearly full moons, there were clear possibilities that the dragonet would have at least some of the powers of its mother.

"It definitely is," Moon confirmed, a wide smile on her face even as she began to tap her talons nervously, "He wants out badly."

"He—" Qibli began to say, but was silenced by a tiny crack. The couple each stepped closer and looked over the egg, a tiny split in the white shell now visible. As they watched, there appeared to be a bit of a bulge at the seam of it, and with another crack, the broken line lengthened.

"Should we help it?" Qibli asked, and Moon could hear his mind racing a thousand miles an hour—only a few more hundred than usual. Would it make him weaker? she heard her mate think, Or would it harm him in any way? Mudwings help their siblings, so it's probably fine to help them start once they hatch. But what if I block the moonlight doing it? When does the moonlight even have its impact?

Moonwatcher shook her head and leaned into the Sandwing. "He'll be fine," she assured him, "Our son has more than enough strength to get out of his shell all by himself."

Our son. The notion still felt crazy. It seemed like just the other day she'd moved into the Sand Capital with Qibli, and now they were having their first dragonet. Moon couldn't believe it; she was practically a mother. Only a few more minutes, or even just moments, and she would be.

More cracks appeared on the egg as it rolled around on its bedding. Moon couldn't be certain, but she thought she saw a glimpse of the snout, just for a brief moment, poking out and lifting a piece of the shell before moving back inside and closing it back up. She heard the first noise of her son, a very small whine, as it struggled to get free.

"Come on, little one," Qibli spoke quietly, putting his face even closer to it as his eyes brightened with each push, "You can do it."

As if urged on by the Sandwing's words, a louder crack rang out and a small circle of the shell popped out and landed on the bedding below. A black snout appeared, and Moonwatcher got her first true look at her son, as difficult as it was to make out among the shadows of the night. Her heart beat faster as she watched him go, love already filling her heart for this young mind.

The snout disappeared for a moment, but a small claw appeared at the hole and gripped the edge. It gave a short tug and some more of the shell gave way. Moon reached forward a claw of her own to help her dragonet, but stopped herself; she'd just told Qibli that their son could do it, and he would.

The claw went back in, and the snout reappeared. With a big push, much of the shell around the hole was pushed aside, and this time the entire head made its way out. The dragonet blinked, getting its first look at the new world, and gave a small squawk.

He has my eyes, Moon thought, looking at them. Emerald eyes contrasted against the black scales, and from what she could tell so far, her son had taken more from his mother. All the scales she could see on his head were black, just like hers. Well, almost all of them. Moonwatcher's gaze went to just behind his green eyes and saw little flashes of silver.

He's like me! She thought with excitement. She'd wondered before if it was wise to hatch the eggs under the light of the moons—even still at times her own gifts felt more like a curse than a blessing—but Qibli convinced her it was for the better. He said it should be up to fate to decide whether he inherited his mother's power, and that it wasn't their right to deny it. She'd agreed, even if she still worried over it, but now it suddenly felt so right for her dragonet to be like her.

The little dragon's claws appeared again and gripped the side of the egg, now enough room to reach while its head was still out. Wriggling, it made a bit more room and stuck its head out farther, its neck and the very top of its chest and shoulders now exposed. It looked around more, and as Moon listened to its inquisitive mind race as it processed everything, she got another look at the scales behind his eyes.

The smile on her face fell, but only a little. That's…odd, she thought. The silvery scales weren't limited to two teardrop ones right behind his eyes. No, in fact, that was only where they started. Beginning there, two thin stripes of silver ran down his neck, disappearing down into the shell.

The dragonet squeaked as it shifted in the egg, causing it to fall over on its side. Disoriented, the small creature shook its body to try to get free, and it found that it could. The shell was now thoroughly broken in several points, and he was able to crawl out of it. Taking small, tiny steps that were less of steps and more just dragging its body, it slowly got its shoulders out of the egg, followed by immediately by its wings. Halfway out, it paused for a brief respite, then with a kick of its blacklegs lunged forwards and pushed the shell back, finally removing itself in full from what had trapped it for so long.

He lay there for a minute, no doubt tired, then picked his head up and looked around with large eyes, taking everything in. When his gaze fell on her, Moonwatcher could take it no longer. She took a step up to his small bed and nuzzled him—nuzzled her son—taking in his scent and giving him the affection of a mother. Immediately she began to clean him, her tongue licking him free of the remains of the egg as he purred and leaned into her gentle caresses. He gave a warbling kind of cry and she returned it with a small rumble in her own throat, wordlessly telling her son that everything was all right, that she was here for him, and that she always would be.

Still full of joy and pride and too many other emotions to list, she turned back and looked at Qibli, the biggest smile on her face that she'd ever worn. Here was their son! Here was the dragonet they'd brought into this world. Surely this was the greatest of all days!

But Qibli wasn't smiling anymore. The look on his face was a blank one, one of disbelief. But not of the kind of joyous disbelief that Moon would have expected. His face was more akin to one of seeing a tragedy that he wished had never happened but was forced to witness. She thought it extremely odd.

Then she heard his mind.

He doesn't look part Sandwing.

She looked back at the dragonet, it's head down for now and already beginning to take a nap. Her eyes roamed it, and she noticed several things for the first time. The first was that the silvery stripes along its back ran the length of its body, to the end of its tail. The second was that, aside from those two stripes on either side of it, all other scales were black. In almost all respects, her son looked like a Nightwing. What differences were there was nothing too major. There were several more horns on his head than she had, those directly behind his head a bit longer. He looked a bit more lithe than she did, which wasn't too surprising. In fact, as she looked him up and down, the single biggest thing that distinguished him as being a hybrid was the silvery—actually, almost pure white, but glittering—scales along his back. It was odd, to be sure, but what did she have to expect from a hybrid?

She was satisfied that nothing was too unusual and was about to say as much but stopped before she could open her mouth.

His tail… she heard Qibli think, and when she followed his gaze to the end of it she saw what he meant, and her own heart suddenly fell in her chest.

Only one tribe of dragons had a tail like that.

It didn't end bluntly, like most tribes. Which was fine, because it was perfectly possible a Nightwing/Sandwing hybrid would have a Sandwing's tail. But the tail wasn't barbed, either. Instead, it was full of dozens of little spikes protruding from it like miniature knives or icicles.

It was the tail of an Icewing.

No, Moon thought in disbelief, It can't be! I…we…this shouldn't have happened! But the more she looked at her son, the clearer it was. Those silvery white scales weren't there because he was a mind reader or seer (even if he still might be). The extra horns on his head, the body structure, and the tail all spoke to one undeniable fact.

Her son wasn't part Sandwing. Her son was half Icewing.

She swallowed, all the joy and excitement of the moment gone in an instant. But…but… she thought, her mind struggling to accept what her eyes were seeing, It was only once. One single night. It couldn't have done this…could it? How? Why?

She felt like putting her face in her claws, but she was frozen. Paralyzed. She couldn't move; she could hardly breathe. Everything was falling apart before her eyes in an instant. Today was supposed to be the happiest one of her life, but she knew that it wouldn't be. Not anymore.

Three moons, she thought, feeling sick to her stomach, What do I do now? It was clear that she couldn't try to pass her dragonet off as Qibli's; he was far too smart for that. He'd never buy it. That this dragonet was not his son was obvious, and it only took him a few short moments longer than she had to put the pieces together and realize what had happened.

Fury, anger, rage…a swirl of negative thoughts and emotions exploded in Qibli's head, hurting her mind at their intensity. Moon desperately tried to think of the sound of rain falling, trying to drown out the noise she heard. Qibli was always good at putting puzzles together, and she could tell that he knew what had happened, or at least highly suspected it. The timeline fit, the appearance of the dragonet fit…there was only one way she could have laid an egg with a half-Icewing inside, after all.

To his credit, however, the Sandwing held the emotions in, even as his body tensed up and his muscles stiffened. She could hear his deep, shaky breaths over her own as his gaze remained on their—no, her—dragonet.

"Qibli…" she started to say, but words died in her throat. How could she try to defend herself? How could she even begin to explain what had happened? All the trust she'd betrayed, all the unsaid lies that were now laid bare…she felt the shame well in her.

This was supposed to fix things, she thought, near tears, as her dragonet raised his head back up and looked at them questioningly, almost as if it could sense the tension in the room, Not make things worse. Not destroy everything.

Qibli's eyes finally moved away from the dragonet and to her. The look in them nearly broke Moon. There wasn't much of the anger from just a few seconds earlier, just such intense disappointment and sadness. He knew what she'd done. Maybe he even understood. But her betrayal was unforgiveable: a cardinal sin. All it took was one look into those eyes and she knew in an instant that everything was over.

Wordlessly, he stretched out a wing. She didn't need to look where it was going to know what he wanted. She didn't need to see what he drew her attention to, but she followed his wingtips with her eyes anyway.

He was pointing towards the door.

To Winter, today was looking like a good day.

All his usual reports were already done for the week, he'd finished up a lengthy paper that he'd been working on over the past month, and all he had to do for the rest of the day was idly observe and take notes on the scavengers living down in Sanctuary. His assistant, Swallow, was off doing his own thing in town, meaning Winter was all alone in his observations. While it was nice to have company at times, he also liked being alone just as much at other times, just him and his thoughts. Today was one of those days where that would happen, and he was looking forward to it.

He gave a yawn and stretched himself out in his hut, getting ready to fly out to his observatory/outpost where he normally watched the scavengers from. It was just a little past noon and most days he'd already be there, but the past night and the morning had been taken up finishing that long paper and he was still a bit tired from it. Perhaps he'd take a nap when he got there, assuming the scavengers weren't doing anything particularly interesting.

Grabbing a few small, blank scrolls, he prepared his satchel for the flight. He usually kept enough scrolls and ink there, but he was pretty sure his supplies were beginning to run low. At any rate, it never hurt to have more. Some days he could fill several scrolls with records of the scavenger's activities, although those days had mostly been back when he first got things up and running. Scavengers seemed to be creatures of habit, and by now he'd seen most of their normal activities. Some things still surprised him, though, so it was better to be safe.

He checked his satchel again to make sure he had everything he needed, then ruffled his wings a bit as he opened his door and stepped outside.

…And nearly ran into a Nightwing dragoness that had her claw up, a half-second away from rapping on his door.

He took a step back, startled, then his eyes widened as he recognized the oh so familiar black scales, with silver teardrop scales behind beautiful emerald eyes.

"Moon?" he asked in confusion and disbelief. "What are you doing here? I thought…" his mind raced and he remembered exactly why it was even more unexpected. "You should be the Sand Kingdom!" he exclaimed worriedly, "Isn't your egg about to hatch?" If he was right—which has pretty sure he was—this was the last place she should be.

She seemed to deflate a little bit, which was a bit worrying as he noticed just how tired and exhausted she already looked. "It…did," she said simply.

He was suddenly a lot more confused. "Then why are you here?" he asked, "Shouldn't you be with Qibli if it just hatched? Why would you come here?"

"Winter…" Moon said, with a sigh, "I…I…" she looked down at her claws, and Winter suddenly realized something was very, very wrong, and he in turn became very, very worried.

"What happened?" he questioned, trying his hardest not to press. A hundred possible scenarios ran through his mind. Had her dragonet died during the hatching? Had something else happened to it? Was there some disaster in the Sand Kingdom that he hadn't heard about that caused her to flee? In none of those, though, could he figure out why she'd sought him out.

She looked away from her claws and to a basket beside her that he noticed for the first time. It was a small to medium sized wicker basket, worn from travel. A soft looking blanket concealed its contents. He narrowed his eyes at it; it was clear Moon had brought it with her, but he had no idea why.

"Something wonderful," she said in answer to his question, even though as she said it, she didn't sound amazed or even thrilled at it. As though she was trying to convince herself that it was.

He shook his head. "Moon…I don't…"

A small squawking noise distracted him, and the basket shook. He knew in an instant that there was something alive in there, and considering that Moon had a newly hatched dragonet it didn't take him long to realize what it was. Yet he still couldn't figure out why she was here. It didn't seem to be a purely social call; if it was, he was sure Qibli would be here to, but the Sandwing was notably absent.

The blanket got moved to the side, and the head of a tiny dragonet popped out. Wide emerald eyes looked curiously around until they landed on its mother, and it gave several loud cries. Moon immediately turned her head down to it and touched snouts, calming it in an instant. It shuffled around a little bit more, pulling the blanket farther back and revealing itself in near entirety.

Winter looked at the dragonet curiously as its mother tended to it. At first glance, it could have been mistaken for a plain Nightwing if not for two lines of silver scales along its back. He could definitely see Moonwatcher in it, though. Its eyes were hers, if nothing else. But as he looked even closer, something seemed a little…off.

He took a step closer and Moon's gaze shifted to him. "Winter," she said, "I…I'm not sure how to tell you this…" She looked ashamed, guilty, excited, and sad all at the same time.

He reached his snout up to almost directly over the wicker basket, and the dragonet looked at him with bright eyes. It gave a small coo at him and lashed its tail and shook its little wings. All the while, Winter's eyes roamed over it. He'd expected to see a bit of brown or pale yellow scales mixed in somewhere; the colors of a Sandwing. But he saw none. In fact, with the white scales the dragonet looked almost like…

Almost like part Icewing.

He slowly turned his head to look at Moon, who had trailed off when she saw him looking at her dragonet. There was fear and apprehension in her eyes as she opened her mouth but said nothing. He didn't either, but he knew he didn't have to. He hadn't worn his skyfire in a long time and she could easily hear his thoughts. She knew exactly what he was thinking.

"Is this…" he asked, even though there was no need; her eyes said it all.

She nodded. "Winter, I'd like you to meet your son."

His son.

His son?

His SON!

In an instant, his heart leapt in his chest as he immediately turned his gaze back onto the small dragonet before him. It was suddenly all clear to see. The silver-white scales along his back, the long horns, and the spiked tail all showed through Icewing heritage. And while the dragonet clearly took more from its mother, he could suddenly see plenty of himself in it. Tiny serrated claws slowly sheathed and unsheathed as it looked at him, and he gave a few small half-shakes of its tail as it cocked it head at him and gave a small cry. Those few actions reminded Winter of exactly what he often did.

Slowly, carefully, he bent his head down towards him and, like Moon had done just a few moments earlier, touched his snout to his son's. An almost electric-like feeling ran down his scales as he nudged him affectionately, giving the top of his head a small lick. He'd just met this dragonet, and already he loved it.

Then he paused, realization waving over him.

He had a son. He had a son…with Moonwatcher. In the moment of meeting him his brain hadn't quite made that connection yet, but suddenly the implications of everything hit him like a hurricane force wind.

"Three moons, Moon," he breathed, barely more than a whisper, "We…I…I didn't think this would happen. I…I don't know what to say."

He looked at her and swallowed, at a loss for words. Part of him would have said such a thing was impossible, but for the fact that he knew that it was. He wasn't proud of what had happened, and he didn't think she was either, but never had he expected that something like this would come of it. After all, what was one time when she had a loving mate who cared for her regularly?

She shook her head. "I didn't either," she told him, "I never even thought—not even in visions of my son—that it would be this way. But it is."

He looked back down at the dragonet in the basket. Its eyes were still on him, watching him, as though he knew exactly who he was and what was happening. Winter wondered if he had the same gifts as his mother and if he was reading his mind. He had silver scales behind his eyes, after all, even if he had a lot more than his mother.

His son was beautiful, wonderful…Winter just wished that he could have just come about some other way. Winter had never given fatherhood too much thought, but he had always expected that'd he'd have a dragonet eventually, once he found the right mate (of course, the one he had always wanted was right here), but he never had expected it to happen like this. He never had anticipated that it would be a result of such a mistake.

Things suddenly made a whole lot more sense: why Moon was here, all alone. Why she looked so tired, like she'd been beaten down by something. She had been. He'd put this upon her—knowingly or not didn't matter—and she was bearing all the consequences of it. She probably felt all the guilt and shame that he was still trying to get over.

"Moon, I'm…I'm sorry," he said, finally finding words again, "I didn't mean for this to happen. I didn't—"

"That's not important right now, Winter," she cut him off, silencing him even though her voice was quieter than his. She nodded down to their dragonet. "He is."

The dragonet in question leaned back of its hind legs, putting its front claws on the side of the basket as it looked out at the new sights around it. It craned its neck to see farther and leaned forward, and at once the basket toppled over, sending him tumbling out with a loud squeak. He lay there on the ground for a moment, stunned, then whipped himself around and gave high pitched growl at the basket, as though blaming it for falling over and threating it if it ever did so again.

Winter didn't feel like laughing, but a very small one escaped his mouth as he watched his son. Moon looked amused to; the first smile he'd seen since she'd arrived was on her face. He began to reach out a wing to put around her, but stopped himself. He couldn't start anything like that, not right now. He wouldn't, he couldn't, allow himself to lose control like the last time he'd seen her. Even the sight of her was enough to make him start.

He looked at her and gave a shaky breath, not sure what to ask, but asking something anyway. "What…what happens now?"

Moonwatcher's eyes went down, and she put her claws together in front of her, nervously rubbing her talons. "I'm not sure," she admitted, "I had hoped that, well…" she trailed off, obviously reluctant to finish.

"Go on," he urged her, part of him both wishing and dreading that she was thinking what he thought he was.

"Maybe it's because I never had a father to look up to, myself," she said, "But I've always thought that a dragonet deserved to be raised by both its mother and its father," she looked back down at their son, now biting the basket and shaking his head, trying to rip out a small piece of it, "I want my son to be raised by both his parents, Winter. I…I'd like to stay here—for now at least. I don't know if you feel the same way, but…I'd like to try. I want to give him that."

Winter nodded slowly. She'd said exactly what'd he longed for, and exactly what he'd feared. "I agree," he said simply, and Moonwatcher suddenly gave a sigh and relaxed, drooping her wings and neck down as if a massive weight had been taken off her.

"Thank you," she cried, literally, as tears began to slide down her cheeks. Almost against his better judgement, Winter found himself setting a claw on hers, trying to comfort her. He'd been the one to get them into this; he was not about to leave her to bear it alone.

"It's going to be hard," he told her.

"I know," she said with a nod.

"Very hard."

"I know."

As he watched his son succeed in ripping out a small chunk of the wicket basket and begin playing with it, Winter couldn't help but marvel at it, at everything. This morning had been like most any other day, no sign of a life-changing event on the horizon. Now, all at once, everything had been flipped upside down. He was a father, now, and he realized that he had no idea how to start being one worthy of the new life before him.

But he would try. He would try as hard as he could. For the sake of his son, and of the Nightwing he loved beside him.

A/N: So, I wrote this not sure whether to post it, and I eventually decided to. I have some ideas for more, but I thought I'd get your guy's opinions before continuing, to see if ya'll are interested. Let me know if you are. If I do continue, I have to be up front that this will likely be a slower updating story, as I don't want it to get in the way of my other projects. That said, I look forward to hearing what you think!

Also...Happy Father's Day, I guess. I didn't really plan for the timing to work out this way, but it did anyway. I guess this fits the day, but not quite in the way anyone would expect. Ah well, it is what it is.