Archive of Our Own ^beta

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.

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The kids were at school tonight, so Foeslayer figured it was the best time to try and talk to Arctic, just in case they got into a fight. She had two plans: Plan A was to attempt to talk to him, and if that didn't work, she hoped maybe physical affection and silence would. He was already grumbling about something as he shuffled around the kitchen, already getting on her nerves as always.

“Arctic?” Foeslayer asked carefully, poking her head into the kitchen.

He paused for a moment, shooting her a side-eye before continuing whatever he was doing. Her brows furrowed as she thought about what to say next. What could she say that wouldn't immediately make him set him off by accident?

“What are you doing?” She tried, keeping her tone calm and even as she walked over to him. Foeslayer could feel him tense as she brushed her wing against his.

“What do you want?” Arctic snapped, pulling his wing away from hers, his frown deepening.

She bit back a sigh and said, “I just want to know what you're doing.” She stopped herself as she reached to twine her tail with his, knowing he'd probably just pull away anyway.

“Hm.”

She peeked over his shoulder. In his talons was the same armband he'd once used to make himself invisible and pass through walls—back when he was the Arctic who had loved her, who had done it all for her. Did he even still love her now?

That question often hung over her head, making her feel hollow and empty inside. But if he didn't love her, wouldn't he have just left her? Gone back to the Ice Kingdom, since it was so obviously miserable for him here? That thought made the weight on her chest feel a little lighter—maybe a small part of him still loved her.

Foeslayer sat there for a moment, watching him fiddle with the armband. She was surprised he hadn’t pushed her away yet. A huge improvement from last time. But of course, it couldn't last forever. He growled suddenly, dropping the armband. He pulled himself away from her roughly and stormed off into their bedroom.

She sighed, now what could have possibly happened this time?”

Foeslayer picked up the armband, wondering what it could possibly have done to piss him off… it might be because he was thinking about how this little accessory could have prevented the spears stabbing into those IceWings, or maybe even setting Snowflake on fire… Foeslayer thought, her wings drooping. He hadn’t been thinking—he had just wanted to protect her.

She gently set the armband back down on the counter, looking at it sadly. If only… they would have been fine. He would still have been her Arctic, not hating everyone, not always so angry, not always pushing her away. There were so many ways they could have avoided this, but of course, the world had been against them from the start. Was this really their fate? Torn apart and always fighting?

She walked over to their bedroom door and opened it slowly, and of course, he was right where she knew he would be—at his bedside table, fiddling with something.

Foeslayer didn’t say anything as she made her way over to him. Not as she sat down next to him, and not as she twined her tail with his.

“You didn’t mean to do it,” she finally said.

Arctic froze for a moment, his jaw clenching. Then he growled and tensed up again. Not saying a word, “You were just trying to protect me. I know for a fact you would never have done it otherwise. It was an accident…”

Foeslayer whispered, watching the way his spikes bristled, how he dug his claws into the wood of the little tabel. But he never pulled his tail away from hers.

“If I hadn’t been such an idiot, no one would’ve ended up dead,” Arctic finally answered, his tone bitter.

“But you're just letting yourself rot in the guilt and pushing every—”

“So I'm just supposed to forgive myself? What don’t you see? I'm terrible! I was being stupid!” he snapped, pulling himself away from her, his tail lashing. “Nothing I do will get rid of the guilt of killing them. Nothing.”

Foeslayer hesitated, pulling her talon back toward her chest before she could set it on his shoulder. Who wouldn’t be haunted by something like that? She couldn’t blame him for not forgiving himself, but he was letting the guilt hang over his head, and it was hurting him, her, and their kids.

Maybe what he really needed was something to distraction, have him focusing on something else.

Foeslayer let the silence drag on for a long moment. Cautiously reaching out and brushing her wing with his.

“Maybe… maybe it won’t hurt if we go on a little evening stroll? Clear your head. What do you say?” She offered, placing her talon over his.

He glanced at her for a moment. He looked… sad, and she couldn’t decide if that was worse or better than him being angry instead.

“... I guess,” Arctic finally grumbled.

Foeslayer tried not to look as thrilled as she felt, he was finally opening up. Letting her back in, she wanted to hug him, but assumed it was too soon for that much affection.

“Okay,” Foeslayer nodded, leading the way through the hall to the blue front door.

As it swung open, moonlight flooded through. Tonight, one moon was full, another a half-moon, and the other a crescent. She smiled, turning back to look at him as he followed her out, admiring the way his scales shone—like a hundred diamonds and sapphires.

Foeslayer smiled at him, wishing she could will him to smile back at her. But he didn’t. Instead, he spread his wings and took off, only turning back to make sure she was following.

She leapt into the air after him, feeling the cool night air whirl around her and pull her up toward the starry night sky.

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Foeslayer landed beside him in the thick grove of trees. Arctic had his wings slightly spread instead of tucked against his side, probably enjoying the cool ocean breeze on his icy scales. Maybe that felt nice. She knew he didn't like the heat; he was always walking around the house, grumbling about it.

She stood there for a moment, watching him. The moon was peeking through the branches and leaves, hitting his scales and making them glitter like thousands of diamonds. Foeslayer stared longer than she'd meant to but quickly averted her gaze when he turned toward her with a slight frown.

"Why did you want me to come here again?" he asked. She tried to ignore his tone and focused on the question instead.

"It's more open, and cooler since it's not as cramped with a bunch of warm-bodied dragons," she explained, spreading her wings to gesture around them.

"It's still cramped with trees," Arctic pointed out.

Foeslayer had to bite her tongue to keep from rolling her eyes at him. Come on, you just gotta ignore it, for his sake. You're here to help Arctic, not have another fight.

She took a deep breath, ever so lightly nudging her tail against his. "Come on…" she whispered softly, looking straight into his beautiful blue eyes, her own softening a little.

She slid away from him, taking the lead through the dark, moonlit forest. She could hear the soft sound of Arctic's talon steps as he followed. She could already hear the faint sound of the stream ahead, with its tiny waterfall where she and her friends used to sneak away.

She remembered wanting to show Arctic all of this, all the things she grew up with and how beautiful they were. But that was before they had even thought of trying to run away, before it all. She wanted to make him laugh again—oh, wow, he was so cute when he laughed. Thinking about all the things she couldn't or hadn't done with him made her eyes well up. She quickly wiped her eyes and focused on the sound of the nearing stream.

Once it came into view, Arctic paused, glaring at the stream as if it had insulted him. Foeslayer was going to say that to him but decided against it, knowing it might just set him off.

She waded into the stream, gesturing at him with her tail to come in. She could hear him grumble a little, but he followed her in anyway.

"I've wanted to show you this for a long time," Foeslayer said, glancing back to gauge his expression. He was looking around, but not frowning as much as before. That was good, right?

She wanted to test something, to see how he'd react. She swished her tail through the water, splashing him a little. He made a really weird face at her, and she burst into laughter.

"Oh my gosh, what're you doing with your face?" she said between wheezes, her side already aching from laughing so hard.

"What face?" he asked. He looked genuinely confused, and oh, how she wished she could have shown him the look on his face.

"What?" Arctic asked again, his confusion making the whole thing even funnier.

"You made a really weird face at me," she managed to say before giggles overtook her again.

He frowned at her, although it was more of a pout than a frown. "Hmph." He threw out his wings and splashed her with a bunch of water.

"Hey!" Foeslayer said, but she only laughed harder. It was working! It was really working!

"I made no such face at you," he grumbled.

"Well, actually, you did."

"Did not!" he said, his eyes wide as he huffed. Oh, he had no idea how cute he looked right now.

"Okay, okay, believe that," she said with a roll of her eyes.

She got out of the water and shook out her wings, accidentally (and partly on purpose) spraying Arctic with it.

"Hey!" He covered himself with his wings, but before his expression disappeared, she caught it—a tiny, really, really small smile.

Foeslayer felt her heart skip a beat, and she stared at him for a moment as he got out and shook himself off like she had. He hadn't smiled in so long… at least four years by now. That made her want to wrap him up in her wings and never let go. But it also made her tear up a little.

Instead of doing either, she just smiled back at him. Her plan was working. Everything was going to be okay. The Arctic she'd first fallen in love with was slowly coming back. She just had to help him, one step at a time. That’s what it would take.