CONTENT WARNING: Mentions of murder and genocide, coercion

Cold air. It filled Tomten’s lungs and soothingly caressed his wings, a comforting constant when everything else was chaos. Did it make him a coward to want to run? Did it make him evil to want to see the throne emptied this year?

No. Not if the person on the throne was trying to pass such a vile bill. One that called for the blood of innocent dragons just because they existed in the first place. It sickened every scale, made him want to shred the paper with his serrated talons and freeze the shreds in a block of ice. Made him want to grab his beloved granddaughter and flee as far away from the kingdom as he could possibly get them.

What kind of queen killed dragons simply for having parents from different tribes?

The bill, written in scrawling, difficult-to-read handwriting, was one of many things that made Tomten stop and think. He paused often to smell the roses or reminisce over the past when and where he could, but legal matters always forced him to reach a special sort of standstill, often one of dismay and horror. It was laws like this one that made him wonder about life beyond the kingdom walls, vast landscapes populated by legends of marauders and little townships that the queen liked to insist did not exist. He often dreamed of taking flight and winging his way as far north as possible, all the way to the furthermost edge of what used to be the Ice Kingdom, leaving this special hell in his tailwinds and never looking back. How lovely would it be to live out his old age in a quiet little cottage in the snow overlooking the icy ocean, free of the guilt and pressure of reviewing life-changing laws that the queen wished to pass. Free of tyranny, free of blood on his talons, free of the looming threat to himself and everyone else that he loved.

If it wouldn’t get his tongue cut out for it, he would’ve spoken up and called the queen by what she was. Unfortunately, as things stood, one wrong move could result in the demise of his beloved granddaughter. As much as his heart ached for all the dragons that this bill would destroy and kill, Tomten was unable to do anything for as long as Vesi’s life was on the line.

What a special kind of shame.

The elderly IceWing tucked his wings closer to his body, willing himself to take a few deep breaths in an attempt to clear his head. It helped, even if only a little. Relinquish control, pray for their souls. Nothing more can be done.

Another deep, slow breath.

It’ll all be over soon.

He knew altruism would do nothing in this kingdom, not under Zero’s tyranny. Once she set her mind to something, it was impossible to get her to backpedal – Tomten had learned that from experience. The situation was as ugly as a rotting animal, putrid and unpleasant to touch. All that was in his power was to hope. Hope that something shifted, that something would change. Hope that his fellow courtiers might take matters into their own talons (he’d heard the way they talked) and do something about the situation. Hope that her sickness sped up its process somehow.

He was a peaceful old man most of the time. Loving and empathetic, patient and wise, but desperate times sometimes called for desperate measures. Tomten would not strike her down on his own, but he would do whatever it took to support those who might in his stead. He hoped they knew that. He hoped they knew that he was on their side, that he’d do anything to eliminate the threat to his Vesi.

Well, almost anything, at least.

---

Talons clicking against the marble flooring of the palace, Tomten navigated his way through the columns and corridors with a practiced sort of grace, one developed by the time he’d spent serving the queen and likewise the kingdom. Like well-worn migration patterns, the flooring felt familiar under his talons – almost comforting in the face of the dark clouds of emotion that often hung around the palace, namely in the form of stress. Today’s tension was so palpable that it may as well have been a storm.

Pink flashed in the corner of his vision as he turned down one of the hallways on his way to the throne room. The jingling of bells indicated Marmoset’s rapid approach, this time forming a worrisome harmony with the sounds of crying. He watched as they ran past him, flashes of blue streaming across their color-changing scales before disappearing back into their distinct shade of red-magenta as though the RainWing were actively fighting back the tears. In fact, they probably were.

Poor Marmoset… I hope they’ll be alright. Maybe I ought to check in later, the older dragon noted in the silence of his mind, trying temporarily to push back his other worries for a moment. As the court jester, it was no secret that they were often subject to the most direct pain and torment from the queen, including copious amounts of verbal abuse and even the occasional threat, even if they rarely ever spoke of it. Anyone who knew them knew that they were keeping up a frantic act, day in and day out. Chipper most of the time, friendly and helpful, but deafeningly quiet the second meeting time came and Queen Zero became the topic of conversation. Tomten could tell they were biting back messy, emotional words and several very important opinions. They were a bright, loud dragon who was going quiet because they’d forgotten how to truly speak their mind. It had, in short, been trained right out of them.

Steeling his nerves now, Tomten paused in front of the throne room door, standing up tall and shaking out his icy spines to make himself appear more relaxed and confident than he really was. A proud IceWing held their numerous spikes out at a semi-relaxed angle, not so puffed up as to look terrified or angry, but not so flattened down as to look submissive or worried. It was an important part of presentation, especially before the Queen. 

He wished he could remember who it was that made the joke about Queen Zero being able to smell fear during a meeting once. He would’ve liked to commend them for being correct. He often seriously wondered if she carried the NightWing power of mind reading in some capacity.

It’s doubtful, Tomten told himself, watching as Sturgeon finally pushed open the heavy golden doors, offset by dark wood. Slipping inside, he angled his head up to face the throne with a calm elegance, adjusting the bag that hung from his shoulder, containing the information written for the new law. He’d written a few suggestions for corrections in there, but had already greenlit it at this point, knowing that Zero was incredibly unlikely to change her mind and alter them in any way.

Zero, with her pure white scales that shimmered with rainbow tones, and her flicking antennae and delicate frills, multiple dark pairs of wings speckled with bioluminescent stars fanning out behind her back and wicked-looking stinger resting serenely within the coils of her tail. The expression on her face spoke loud and clear of her terrible mood. Best to get in and out quickly. Just looking at her made Tomten simmer with some kind of repressed rage that he buried deep beneath walls of ice in his mind, red-hot against white like blood upon snow.

How dare such an artificial dragon threaten the lives of innocent civilians who were formed of love and flesh and blood? How dare she use her purpose and her power to cause others pain? How DARE she threaten HIS FAMILY. HIS GRANDDAUGHTER.

If Tomten were a different dragon, he would’ve killed her right then and there, but he was made of love. He would never in a billion years stoop down to her hateful level. In fact, he’d probably rather die.

“I’ve reviewed the bill, Your Majesty. Aside from a few minor suggestions, I believe it to be well-rounded and ready to be put into action,” Tomten began, practically lying through his teeth. In reality, he wanted nothing more than to have one of his fire-breathing coworkers incinerate it when nobody else was looking. Alas, that was not an option on his table.

Luckily for him, it was enough to avoid her ire. Her previous snarl slowly relaxed upon seeing his familiar white scales, a quiet, pale grey almost like marble. “Ah, Tomten! That’s wonderful. Bring them here.”

It was like the flipping of a switch. Moments like these were what made Tomten realize that Zero was still a relatively young queen, despite her malevolent nature. It reminded him of a dragonet throwing a tantrum, frankly. Wordlessly, so as not to ruin the temporary peace, he slung the bag from his shoulder and gently pulled out the scroll, passing it forward to her. She took it with an almost enthusiastic sort of gratitude.

Tomten hated her two-faced nature. Fortunately, he didn’t need to be around it for long. Queen Zero was a quick reader, something that had come from years of training ever since she was a tiny dragonet. One of the few good things about her, if you asked him what his true thoughts on her were.

“This looks wonderful,” Zero spoke after a moment, allowing a smile to grace her snout while her antennae flicked with smug relaxation. “I’m glad you agree on this law. I was afraid I might have to… persuade you.”

Ignore that, Tomten hissed to himself, softly taking the time to speak. “I’m glad, Your Majesty,” he spoke with a forced smile, fluidly moving into a deep bow despite his old age. His bones and joints always seemed to know how to do that, regardless of the situation or how much they ached when he tried to do other things. “It’s an honor to have pleased you.”

Zero giggled at that, rattling some of the spikes along her body as she moved with mirthful laughter. “You and I make a splendid team, Tomten. Thank you so much for your hard work here. I’ll send this to Vesi to announce as soon as possible.”

Tomten couldn’t tell if he wanted to bristle or sag in response to that. The downside of her liking his work was that he couldn’t buy anyone any more time before the inevitable struck. It was completely out of his talons now, and he knew he could only hope that those affected by the law would have the chance to flee the kingdom before the horror of fresh blood on the cobblestone streets could begin. If he could, he would’ve packed his things and left with them, but people were counting on him here. Vesi, Marmoset, Condor… the whole team, really. He swore he could see it in their eyes, and he knew for certain that Marmoset felt he should be the one to lead them. Sure, altruism would get him nowhere in this gilded hellscape, but it would keep the fire alive long enough for someone else to end the terror and the pain. He would lead his companions until they could stand on their own and turn the tides. “We do,” he rumbled gently with false pride coating his voice, “And thank you.”

Shortly thereafter, the old dragon politely excused himself from the Queen’s presence and made the move to slink off somewhere quiet. He could use a walk, and a nap. Something to take his mind off the guilt, the fear, and the broiling anger in his chest. It was out of his talons now, out of his control. 

It was out of control. 

It was all out of control.

It’s all out of control. I’m sorry.