Chapter Text
"Ostrich!" Winter called out after her, banging on the now-closed metal doors of the Observatory. The blood drained from his face as panic set in. What were they going to do to her? What if they hurt her—or worse, killed her? Winter barely knew Ostrich, but he knew she meant a lot to Qibli. He was sure Qibli would blame him for losing her. He had, after all, been the only one alone with her. If only he hadn't decided to sleep! (He hadn't slept in two days, but that wasn't important.) Arghhh, he should have been paying attention! Ostrich could be dead, and he was sitting here worrying about Qibli hating him instead of trying to get out.
He took in a few shaky breaths, forcing himself to focus. He lifted his elegant snout toward the skylight above, knowing cloaked dragons were up there, hidden from view, awaiting his futile escape attempts. Small clouds of frostbreath swirled from his nostrils. Winter knew trying was useless, but what other option did he have? Ostrich’s life could be in serious danger, dangling over a thin string above a never-ending abyss. His stoic facade was gone, replaced by an agitated, panicked state of mind. His body reflected his emotions—his spikes bristled along his head, neck, and spine, clinking together as he paced in a circle. His claws scraped against the ground, only fueling his anger. His spiked tail slashed through the air, whistling as if slicing it in two.
The sudden sound of heavy doors slamming open snapped him out of his thoughts. He turned his head so fast it hurt, and the moment he recognized the dragon standing there, he arched his back, baring his teeth with a long, drawn-out hiss.
The SandWing was female and burly, skull tattoos forever imprinted into scales along her neck. Sharp obsidian eyes stared him down like a predator eyeing its prey.
"Awww, my little brother’s pet! Hmm, you're quite a catch..." Rattlesnake said in that same, aggravating sing-song she'd had when Winter had just met her hours before.
Winter gave her a weird look. Who the hell walked up to someone and called them a pet? What a fucking creep.
"What do you want..." he growled, his voice low but clear.
Rattlesnake smirked, tapping her chin for a moment. It took all of Winter’s willpower not to punch her right in the face. Maybe it’d do her some good. She was a lost cause when it came to attractiveness. Winter assumed Qibli's father must have been the good-looking one because all his other family members were straight up ugly, inside and out. Even so, it was crazy to think someone so charming and handsome was related to… whatever they were. Winter wouldn't normally think this way about dragons, but he also knew what they’d done to Qibli. So really, it was perfectly fine. Well justified, even.
"Could you not?" he snapped, his voice dripping with disdain and disgust.
He backed away from her, flaring his wings. If Qibli had acted like this when they first met, he would have been punched. But Rattlesnake was much bigger than him, standing almost a full neck taller. The way she studied him made him nervous, her eyes traveling to places they really shouldn’t be.
"Could you, like, fuck off by chance?"
Her gaze lifted to his as he spoke, narrowing as she flicked her black, forked tongue out.
"Feisty now, are you? That won’t last long," she smirked. There was something sinister about the way she did it that made him recoil. "I’ll give you a choice: comply and do as I say, and it won’t hurt as much. Do the opposite, well… I think you have an idea."
Winter glared at her, his stance shifting into a defensive one in case she tried to attack. He had a faint, dreadful idea of what she wanted, but he needed her to confirm it.
"...What, exactly, are you planning on making me do?"
The smug look on her face only heightened his urge to rip it right out of her skull. And he’d thought Qibli was infuriating.
"Well, Vulture realized quite quickly that my little brother is quite fond of you, and he wants to use that to his advantage in case his current plan fails."
Winter froze. No. He thought to himself. You can’t let them use you. Not against anyone. Especially your… friend.
"How do you plan to do so?" he asked, forcing his voice to remain steady. On the inside, panic was rising. Don’t let her see your fear. That’s what Father would say.
"You see, exiled prince, I’m sure you thought my grandfather was intimidating enough." She chuckled, her black eyes glittering dangerously. "But you don’t know at all what he’s fully capable of. He finds you a particularly interesting character. Yes, he’s been watching Qibli, but he’s also been watching you. Studying you, noting down every little detail he can pick up about you…"
She paused, enjoying the suspense and the way dread slowly changed Winter’s entire body language.
"…And he finds your most striking virtue to be your loyalty. Risking death for your friends and tribe without a moment's hesitation."
Winter blinked, realizing how wide his eyes had been. How had he been spying on Qibli? On him?
"What are you going to do?"
He hated how he sounded—scared. He wasn't supposed to be scared! He was supposed to stand his ground and stay calm. Qibli would be back soon, and he’d help him. He knew he would.
"Have your eggs."
Silence.
Her words didn’t click right away, but when they did, he knew there was no escaping. He felt sick. Bile rose up his throat, threatening to spill onto the floor. This had to be the worst possible scenario.
Using his life to make Qibli obey them sounded so much more preferable now.
Any other dragon might have been able to say, Whatever! Forget the dragonets. But Winter knew a choice like that would haunt him forever. Deep in his mind, he promised himself that if he ever became a father, he would never let history repeat itself. No matter what, he would always love his child. He would give them the childhood and the parent he'd needed so badly it hurt. He already looked like his father, he would never be him though.
There would be no circles or rules dictating his love for them. He would love them even if they were stuck in the seventh circle their entire lives.
"No."
He stood up, working three times as hard to maintain his calm facade. This manipulation tactic was cruel, vile, and disgusting. How could he choose? Between his friend and his own dragonet?
He couldn’t.
The only choice he had was escape. Escape. Escape. Escape. Get out. Find Ostrich and Qibli. Pray they make it out alive.
"You don’t have that choice," she pointed out, roughly gripping his chin in her talons.
Her claws dug in, trying to draw royal blue blood. He snarled and whipped his tail, smashing her in the face so hard it snapped her head to the left.
Her face twisted with ugly rage. Her talons were on his throat before he could blink.
The air was knocked out of his lungs as she slammed him into the ground, making him emit a strange, gasping wheeze.
His oxygen supply was cut off as her talons tightened.
Don’t pass out. Don’t pass out. DON’T. PASS. OUT.
His thoughts were desperate, begging his body to resist the light-headedness drowning his awareness. His vision swam. Black splotches spread across it.
His fighting slowed.
His limbs fell limp.
Darkness swallowed him whole...