A/N: Welcome back, everyone. There's a chapter two now, so I guess I'm continuing this.
The reaction to this story has been a bit mixed so far, and I can't say that I'm too surprised. This isn't exactly what I'd call my typical story, but I guess that's kinda the point. This one isn't supposed to be all sunshine and roses. And if I'm honest, if I wasn't the author I'm not sure what I'd think myself. But of everything said, the general consensus seemed to be a desire for more, and so here it is.
"So, Qibli threw you out?"
Winter posed the question not long after inviting Moon and his son inside, all thoughts of visiting the scavengers gone from his mind. They could take care of themselves, after all. This was a matter that required his personal and constant attention. And it had it.
Moon gave a sigh as she sat his table, a mug of warm milk in her talons that she'd heated herself. On the other side of the room, their dragonet rolled around on the floor, playing with a ball that Winter had no idea where he'd gotten it from. For her part, Moon continued to radiate a kind of tired sadness, but with just a little bit more hope in her now that he'd given his allowance for her to stay in Sanctuary with him.
"Yes. Well…no," Moon answered with a shake of her head, "He wanted to, but he didn't in the end. When he first found out I did have to leave for a while, but Qibli is…well, Qibli. Even despite what happened he wasn't about to just throw a dragoness out on the streets to fend for herself, let alone his mate. Or ex-mate now, I guess."
"Then why did you leave?" Winter asked, even if he was fairly sure he knew the answer from what she'd said before.
The Nightwing took a sip of her drink before answering, closing her eyes and taking a deep breath before she opened her mouth again. "I knew I couldn't stay," she told him, "Not after that. Not even if I wanted to. Things may not have been as good between him and me before, but this broke everything. Even if it were to get better it would never go back to it once was, not with our dragonet there to remind him at every turn of his head. I just…I couldn't bear it. Not for myself, and not for my son."
She lashed her tail and looked down. "As it was, Qibli didn't even say goodbye when I walked away. No, things were over. They were over the second that little dragon hatched."
Winter followed her gaze to his son, still playing with his ball without a care in the world. How can something so wonderful bring so many problems, he wondered. Not that it was the dragonet's fault all this had happened. No, that distinction fell to Winter.
He shook his head. It was all still just sinking in that he had a son. It was as equally terrifying as it was wonderous. But the more he thought about it, the harder everything became now. Having a dragonet meant having obligations. It meant taking time away from other things, from his research, from living his own life. Just this morning Winter woke up knowing what laid ahead for his day and what to expect, now he had no idea what any day in the future would bring.
This dragonet would get in the way of all of that, in the way of everything Winter had tried to build for himself coming to Sanctuary. A part of him yelled that it wasn't worth it, that he should just throw the dragonet and its mother out and move on like he'd been trying to ever since Moon chose a Sandwing over him. But he didn't listen to it. He couldn't. Like it or hate it, he'd brought this responsibility upon himself with his decisions, and he would not shirk it.
He wouldn't be like his own parents.
Glancing down at his own claws, he gave a shaky breath. "I'm sorry, Moon. I didn't mean to put you in that situation. I didn't want for this to happen between you and him."
She closed her eyes and gave a kind of wince. "Winter…don't be. Things had been going downhill long since before that night, and they barely improved at all once I found out I was with egg. Maybe in another life this dragonet could have repaired things between him and me, but there's no use if fantasizing about what might have been. Maybe in the end, this was for the best."
"For the best?" Winter baulked, "How could you say that, Moon? You can't really believe that, can you?"
She closed her eyes and gave a shake of her head as she shrugged her wings halfheartedly. "I don't know, Winter," she said shakily, "I really don't. Part of me wants to believe it is, just so things make a little bit more sense. That this is all for a reason, not just an ugly twist of sadistic fate."
Winter felt compassion begin to flow through him at those words. Speaking now, she looked so small, so innocent. So…broken, almost. He wanted to put his wings around her, to comfort her, but he couldn't. He would not allow himself.
"I just…I can't believe this happened," she cried, eyes still shut close, tears beginning to leak down her cheeks and threaten to drop into her drink, "One day everything is normal, the next it's all torn apart. I don't…I don't know what to do, Winter. I wanted to stay with him, but I couldn't. I had to leave…I had to. But I have no idea what to do now, no idea where to turn except to you. Everything's gone wrong, and I don't know how to fix it."
He sighed and swallowed, trying to steel himself but failing. Hesitantly, he reached a claw across the table and set it on hers. He would allow this touch—nothing more.
"Moon," he said softly, and she opened her eyes again and looked at him, "It's…it's okay. We can figure this out. I won't throw you out, Moon. You're safe and our son is safe. For now, that's all that's important."
He meant those words as he said them, knowing full well what he was inviting. He'd said before that what was going to come would be hard. That was an understatement. What would be coming would overhaul his entire life. A son that he now had to worry about and his homeless mother…well, Winter could just about wave goodbye any thoughts of getting his research reports done on time ever again, or ever enjoying a quiet day in solitude.
Yet deep down, there was a larger terror growing inside of him. What he was taking on was not just the responsibility of a kind of caretaker, he was taking on the responsibility of a father.
Winter had no idea how he was supposed to be a father.
The only example he had of one was a dragon he had sworn never to emulate. Narwal had been an objectively awful parent, never once giving him a shred of praise or respect. Narwal had belittled him, scorned him, even tried to have him killed! He'd raised Winter with spite and hatred, and embedded him with attitudes that were the reason the dragoness before him had turned him away for a better dragon. He could hardly blame her.
He looked at his dragonet and swallowed. What if he became just like his own parents? What if he messed up and pushed his son away like he had his mother? What if they became like Arctic and Foeslayer, bringing a monster into being?
"Winter…" he heard Moon whine, and he grimaced as he remembered she could read his mind. He was trying to be comforting right now, not causing her more grief.
He shook his head. "I'm sorry…I…I just don't where to start," he told her, "I'm…" he trailed off. Scared, he thought, finishing it in his mind, but he couldn't bring himself to voice it. Icewings weren't supposed to get scared of anything.
"I know," Moon looked down at where his claw still sat on hers. "I am too."
Winter took a shaky breath and slowly pulled his claw away, back to himself, doing his best to keep it from trembling. Trying his best to keep control. He had to be strong; he could not allow himself to break again. He would not repeat that night so soon.
Instead, he focused back on his son, who by now had grown tired of the ball and was exploring the floor of Winter's home, investigating every little corner and crevice with wide eyes and shaky legs. He was only a few days old, that Winter could tell, but already he was walking on all four claws with confidence. Yes, dragonets grew and matured rather quickly, which was nice. He'd observed scavenger offspring taking years to develop. In fact, the first scavenger baby that had been born in Sanctuary was nearly a year old and barely walked at all! By that time, Winter would have already started his military training in the Ice Kingdom.
It was no wonder scavengers, for how smart they seemed, never became the dominate species. All their young probably got picked off by every predator in Pyrrhia. From what he'd seen, Winter was almost surprised they could even survive in the wild.
He wondered how his son would react to meeting that young scavenger. The thought of the dragonet seeing them and getting excited and wanting to learn more and help and take after him made Winter smile a little.
Moonwatcher, too, seemed to become distracted from her thoughts as she followed Winter's gaze to their son. She gave a small giggle as he tripped over a small inkwell that had been discarded and set on the ground, then again as he growled and batted at it.
"Do you remember when you hatched?" Winter asked her, his mind now on such things.
"When I hatched?" Moon asked, "No, not really. I have the vaguest impression of hearing my mother's thoughts, of hearing love and warmth, but I can't really remember anything else. Why?"
"No reason," Winter said, "I just…Swallow says he can remember when he hatched. He—oh, sorry, Swallow's my assistant with my research," he caught himself at her questioning look, "You'll have to meet him. But anyway, he said that most Skywings can remember it quite well. I wondered if Nightwings are the same."
Moon shrugged her wings, "Not that I know of," she responded, "And in his case…well, I think I'd rather him not remember, all things considered."
"Oh," Winter gave a breath, the sudden rise in his mood gone again, "Yeah…"
They watched the dragonet continue to wander around for a little bit until he bumped up against Winter's side. Gently and delicately, Winter wrapped his tail around his son in a little embrace, pulling him closer. The dragonet gave a tiny squeak but didn't protest, rather snuggling into Winter's cold scales.
"I guess I should ask," Winter said, looking down at him, "What's our son's name?"
Moon gave a small shake of her head. "I haven't given him one yet. Qibli and I only ever discussed Sandwing and Nightwing names, and a mix of both of them. We were going to wait to see his scales before deciding on anything. With everything that happened, I didn't think it was right to give him a name without talking to you first."
Tapping his claws, Winter nodded. "I…guess that makes sense," Winter told her, "Although you could probably have just given him a Nightwing name with how black most of his scales are. What do you have in mind?"
"I'm not too familiar with Icewing naming," Moon admitted, "You are. If you have any ideas…"
"Well…let's get a closer look at him," Winter reached down and gently picked up his son who had somehow fallen asleep within the coils of his tail in the few moments he'd been there. The dragonet blinked in surprises as he was lifted from his spot and set on the table. Winter got a very close look now at his son's scales, yet to harden, a brilliant kind of sheen on them without a blemish. The silvery-white stripe running from his eyes to his tail seemed to gleam brightly as Winter looked at it. He gingerly reached out a claw and his son met it, tiny not-yet-sharp talons resting on his own.
His son was beautiful, wonderful.
Then the dragonets face scrunched up a tiny bit, his nostrils giving a wrinkle. Looking away, his son gave a small sneeze, a tiny little "a-choo" hardly louder than the sound of a falling bone. Yet it was what came out that was surprising: a tiny streak of white that left an icy residue where it hit the table. Frostbreath.
Winter couldn't restrain a small smile. "I guess he doesn't take after his mother completely," he said, nuzzling his son a little bit. While the exterior still primarily suggested Nightwing, there was Icewing on the inside.
"I noticed that," Moon said, a similar smile on her face and in her eyes, "He's cold. His scales, I mean. They're as cold as an Icewin—hey!" she suddenly explained, "Coldshock!"
"Coldshock?" Winter questioned, "What do you…"
"His name," Moon clarified, "Coldshock. He's cold like an Icewing and, well, he was quite the shock when he hatched." He words grew a little bit more somber towards the finish, but Winter could hear the excitement in her voice.
"Coldshock," Winter repeated, "I…I like it. It's not very Nightwing, though."
"It doesn't need to be," Moon said, "It's more important that it fits him, anyway."
Winter gave a hum of acceptance and looked back over his dragonet again, who was looking back and forth between them as they spoke, as if uncertain as to which one he should pay closer attention to. "His silver scales are like a little strike of lightning, too," he observed, "So it works for that as well."
Moon stood up from her seat at the table and walked around it to where their son sat. She sat next to him, and he tensed as her wing brushed his, only relaxing when he saw her focus was completely on the dragonet—not him—which she leaned into and nuzzled affectionately.
"I think it's a perfect name," she stated, and their son cooed in agreement. If Winter wasn't already sold on it before, he was now.
Coldshock, he thought, My son. It was funny how so soon after his world had been flipped upside down, he would willing give that entire world to the dragonet that flipped it.
Moonwatcher sighed as she watched Winter play with her son, scraping his talons lightly along the tabletop as Coldshock jumped and batted at them, pursuing them like miniature prey. For perhaps the first time today the Icewing's mind was light and jovial, enjoying the moment, and she in turn could finally relax a little. Maybe, just maybe, everything would be okay.
Which was no small relief. Moon really had no idea what to expect when she brought her son to Winter. Part of her was certain he'd turn her away the second that he knew he had a dragonet. Yet another part of her knew that he wouldn't. Winter wasn't that kind of dragon. He could be harsh or severe at times, needlessly so, but he always had an incredible capacity for compassion, to see much more than just himself.
And now, she could tell, he had that compassion for his son. He loved Coldshock, just as much as she did. Yet, as the same time, he was afraid and terrified of what he'd bring…just like Moon was.
Moon had expected this to be the hard part, getting Winter to help her without sending her away. In fact, just bringing herself to his doorstep was a trial. But now, the most difficult part seemed to still be ahead. She now had a place to settle and try to raise her son but…how was she supposed to raise her son like this? How could she be the mother she wanted to be for him without a true home to raise him in. She'd always known that with Qibli there would be stability, familiarity, a home with two parents where her son would always be supported. But now, away from all of that, what could she expect? Nothing would be how she imagined it to be, even with Winter present.
Of course, similar thoughts had been going through Winter's head as well. He seemed as confused and concerned as her about what the future would bring. If she had no idea how to raise Coldshock in a situation like this, then he was completely at a loss. He hadn't even had any time to prepare himself for it, and she could hear the brief moments of terror in his head when he thought about what was to come. She knew that sooner or later (probably sooner), there would be a long and very difficult talk about what would be happening now.
But that could wait, for the moment at least. Right now she was content to watch Winter interact with his son, forming the kind of bond with him that she already had. It was interesting; she'd always imagined Qibli being the one that would be doing this with him, yet somehow seeing Winter there with the dragonet that she'd helped bring into the world felt so right. Like it should have been him all along. In fact, all things considered, maybe it really should have been hi—
No, don't think about that, She yelled at herself mentally, You had good years with Qibli. You cared for him and him for you. Don't throw all that away just because of how things ended.
She shook her head and stood up from her seat, putting a little of space between them before she stretched her wings. She gave a small twitch of her tail as both Winter and Coldshock turned and looked at her, and she shifted nervously on her feet.
"I know it's still early," she told Winter, "But I think I'd like to get some sleep, if it's alright with you. We can…we can talk more in the morning."
Winter nodded. We certainly will… he thought a little ominously, but he didn't voice it. "I'll show you around Sanctuary in the morning," he told her, "Until then…I guess you can stay in my guest room until we can find you a more permanent place. I know they just built a few huts across town for expansion, and you may be able to get one."
Moon blinked and shifted on her talons. "Across town?" she asked, "I thought…I thought we could stay here…"
With of shake of his head that was a little too vehement, Winter looked almost appalled by the idea. "No. Absolutely not. I mean, you can stay here for as long as you need, but you can't live here. I can't…" he trailed off, but his mind continued. I can't let her stay here. I can't let her be this close! What if I mess up again? What if I can't help myself? As much as I want her to, she can't!
Confused, Moon couldn't help but try to dig deeper into the frantic thoughts racing through his mind. He seemed terrified to be near her, although she couldn't quite understand why. She'd noticed this before, as well, like every move he made towards her was carefully measured and gently made, as though either she or he was fragile glass that could break at any moment.
"It's alright," she finally said, getting no more answers from his thoughts, "We don't have to stay here if you don't want us. We can live elsewhere in Sanctuary if you want us to."
"I don't want you to have to," Winter admitted with a growl, "I'd like for you to stay, Moon, if you wanted to…but I can't. Not now…I just can't."
She almost asked "why" but caught herself. Whatever was happening in his mind was causing Winter a great deal of distress, she could see that. With everything that happened today, it wasn't wise to push things too fast. He would tell her when he was ready, or she would find out later.
Winter gave Coldshock a little nuzzle then stood up from where he had been seated. "I'll get your room ready, then," he told her, "I wasn't exactly expecting visitors today."
Moon chuckled just a little bit at that as Winter turned and disappeared into what she assumed was the guest room. Really, it only looked like there were around four rooms in his hut, counting the living room she was in now. Through an open door she could see what she assumed was Winter's room, and a closed door to the right of it was closed. Moon hadn't gotten a good look at the outside of the hut, so she wasn't sure if it was a closet or a room, but she had to guess it was his office. Altogether, the place was small but cozy, ideal for a single dragon or a small family.
Her attention was drawn away from the house as Coldshock stretched himself out and gave a small leap from the table onto the ground—she couldn't tell if tried to use his wings at all, even if it was still too early for him to start flying—and followed Winter into the room. Alone once more, she sat back on her haunches and gave a sigh.
Where do we go from here? she thought to herself, letting her wings slump gently against her sides as she looked down at her claws. Despite Winter promising not to throw her and Coldshock out, that seemed like what he was intending to do. He'd help, yes, and they'd be close but…that wasn't what she'd wanted. She'd wanted…well…
If she was honest with herself, Moon didn't know what she wanted.
She wanted her son to have a father, that was one thing she was certain of. And she wanted to give him some sort of a normal home—something she'd never really had herself. If Winter's thoughts and reactions were any indication, he already cared for Coldshock like she did and wanted to be a part of his life, but the question was how?
How could they come together when they forced each other apart?
"Your room's ready."
Winter's voice dragged her out of her thoughts. She looked up to see Coldshock perched on his shoulder like some sort of bird, looking happy as he surveyed his surroundings from a new height. He began to crawl up Winter's neck, slowly, until Winter gently lowered it towards the ground so that he was suddenly going lower instead of higher. With a squeak of almost disappointment, Coldshock hopped off and ran over to Moon, rubbing his head against her forearm as he looked back at his father.
"Where will he sleep?" she asked Winter, who responded with a shrug of his wings.
"With you, I imagine," he said, "All I have for your bed is a simple cushion, but it should be large enough for both of you to find a spot. Of course, if you think I should…" he glanced towards his own room without completely finishing the offer.
"Thanks, but I don't think that will be necessary," Moon told him, "I think he'll be fine with me. He's slept the last few nights in that basket I brought him in, so I doubt it will be any worse for him."
Winter gave a nod. "Well, if you need anything else I'll probably be up for a little while still. I should go through some of my notes, since I didn't make it to my Sanctuary today."
"Your Sanctuary?" Moon asked before remembering, "Oh, yes! Your scavengers. I'd almost forgotten about them. You'll have to take me and Coldshock to see them sometime."
"Tomorrow," he promised, "Now, get some sleep. You do look tired, and I think it will do both of us some good."
She stood up and lowered a wing, gently pushing and guiding Coldshock with her towards the room, but she paused for a moment in front of Winter.
"Winter," she told the Icewing, "Thank you." She stepped forward and reached out a wing to brush his and a claw to set on his, just as a little show of thanks.
…And Winter jumped back from her as though she had just attacked him.
"Don't touch me!" he growled, as her eyes widened in confusion.
"Winter? I…"
"Don't," he repeated, his voice firm. I cannot break again! his mind screamed, I will not break!
She wilted, much of that relief from earlier gone. Was this really what he thought of her? Was he really so shaken by that night that her very touch would cause him to recoil so? She wasn't proud of what had happened, but was it really enough to warrant this reaction now?
Maybe it was.
"I'm sorry," was all she could say. "Winter…I really am."
He closed his eyes tight and looked away from her. "Good night, Moon."
She spent most of it lying awake in worry and guilt; it was not a good night at all.
A/N: As I said before, this one is more of a side project to be worked on aside some of my other stuff. I'll work on it when I can, but don't expect as frequent of updates as my other stuff or a consistent schedule.