Chapter Text
Foeslayer lay in her bed, on her side of the bedroom. Her husband, Arctic, lay in his bed on his side. Both pretended to sleep, but neither could—not after yet another fight. Arctic felt nothing but pure anger toward her. While Foeslayer was angry, confused, and guilt-ridden. She wished she had realized sooner that her children were there. She hadn’t known they were in the house when the fight started. And now she felt horrible, but she was also angry at Arctic and confused about him at the same time. Everything had gone downhill since they tried to flee the Ice Kingdom. If only she'd tried harder to stop him, made him keep flying, no looking back… the whole thing had only made her mother hate her more because it was her fault her mother had been demoted, her fault there was now a war between the IceWings and NightWings, everything was her fault.
She sighed, curling into a ball. How was she going to sleep if her brain wouldn't stop thinking? She hated how heavy the air in their bedroom felt, as if her chest were being squeezed by the bitterness in the air. She knew Arctic’s issues all came down to one thing: his stupid magic. It had damaged him. Six years had gone by, and she couldn't remember him smiling even once. He could only be angry at everyone, and sometimes it drove her insane. What was she going to do with him?
She heard him growl and shift. She tried not to sigh again. How could she possibly deal with him moping and groaning and starting fights with her every day? She finally got up, quietly leaving their bedroom, shutting the door behind her. She walked into the living room area, the sun high in the sky when she pulled back the curtains to look. She stood there for a moment, gazing around at their house, at the painting over the fireplace that Whiteout had done… they looked so… perfect… completely opposite of what their family was really like. She stared at the painting for a while, studying the way Whiteout had painted Arctic, a smile she never saw on his face anymore.
She wanted to see him smile again, but every day he was growling and grumpy about something new.
“Mother?” Darkstalker’s voice asked, making her jump.
“Oh, hello, dear…” She smiled at him tiredly, spreading her wing open for him to snuggle into her side.
They sat there for a few silent moments, looking at the painting.
"He's probably never going to change, you know," Darkstalker suddenly said, answering her thoughts and breaking the silence.
Foeslayer sighed, "I can't lose hope yet..."
I still love him; no matter what, I’ll always love him… she thought to herself, knowing Darkstalker could hear her thoughts. She just didn't have the energy to care.
"I'm sorry about the fight earlier… I can't believe I didn't realize you were both here," Foeslayer whispered, her wings hunched in guilt. She could feel Darkstalker’s eyes staring at the side of her head, but she didn't acknowledge it.
"...It's okay, Mother," he finally answered, snuggling closer to her warmth. "I blame most of it on Father anyway."
She winced at that. "Don't be too hard on him, dear. He made a mistake, but he was doing it to protect me. And what he did… I know it haunts him. Because it haunts me as well."
Darkstalker stayed silent at that, thinking.
Foeslayer’s gaze drifted down to the fireplace, a still faint glow in the burnt wood that had been lit a few hours ago.
Suddenly, an idea popped into her head. She hadn't been exactly trying to find a solution to Arctic’s problems, or even tried to bring things up in a civil manner. Maybe he just needs someone to truly be there for him. I know his magic damaged him, so maybe I should try to… reverse it by loving him to death, she thought to herself.
Maybe it would work. Maybe, just maybe… she'd get back the Arctic she'd first fallen in love with… just maybe.