Foeslayer

I slip out the door in the early light. I have a few minutes before I need to leave for work, and the sky is beautiful; purple-blue and speckled with stars in the aftermath of sunset.

I meet my eyes in the little creek out back, watching my reflection blur and change.

If I tell him, he's going to leave, I just know it.

I look back at Arctic inside, frowning at the fireplace like it's personally done something to offend him.

"Are you going to hunt, or do I have to?" he calls from inside, already sounding impatient.

I'm so tired, and I know he knows it. I work all day, and then I come home to find he hasn't eaten a thing. So then I go hunting, shopping at the market if I'm really out of time. And then I cook, and then I clean, and I let him tell me how he hates my cooking and how the house looks awful, and how my wages are useless, and then I crash into deep, dreamless sleep. And I do it all over again. Seven days a week.

I try to get him to help. He just looks at me, and he doesn't need to say it aloud for me to know what he's thinking: I have better things to do with my time. On the rare occasion he does something useful around the house, it's like he expects a medal. For doing the exact same thing that I do every day; only half as well.

I know what he's doing. Making it so damn hard to ask for his help, it's easier just to do it myself. And I hate that I let him get away with it.

"Foeslayer! Do I have to hunt?!" he shouts.

And soon, we'll have a dragonet. And I'll be all alone in that, too.

He doesn't know about that yet, though.

I close my eyes, letting out a breath. "It's fine," I shout back. "I'll take care of it. Don't worry, love."

***

I sit beside Braveheart on top of a hill, overlooking the fog and the trees. A soft mist falls into my shoulders, and I watch the tiny raindrops roll off my spear. I can hear birds calling, and the distant sound of ocean waves, but I can't actually see the water.

"Okay–you're acting super weird," Braveheart says after a long silence.  It's not exactly the  most riveting job; so I'm grateful to have someone to talk to all day. "Are you and your dreamboat fighting again?" He groans. "Please, please don't tell me you're having another fight. Don't tell me about it, it stresses me out."

"No, I mean–" nothing major. Nothing he wouldn't already know about. "Arctic is kind of... difficult, sometimes, but–"

"He is the most entitled, arrogant dragon I have literally ever met," Braveheart says scathingly. "And I lived with my mother for six years. I mean, I get it–wow, so handsome! But if this is the dragon you're gonna spend your life with, how long is it gonna take for the pretty factor to wear off? You could really do better."

With who? You're the only one of my friends who even talks to me anymore.

"You don't know him like I do," I say fiercely. "He's–he's really sweet, once you get to know him. He's funny, and he loves me too–you just have to look for it."

Braveheart snorts. "Yeah, I'm sure. If you really just look for it–by all the moons, Foeslayer, do you want to be looking for his redeeming qualities for the rest of your life? I mean, if that's your thing, go for it, I guess. But I sure wouldn't."

I furrow my brow. "No, no, you don't get it. He just has a hard time expressing himself." I grip my spear tighter in my talons. "When we're alone, he's totally different." I close my eyes, trying to focus, trying to remember what it was like before it all went wrong. "Every single spell he casts is for me. The first one he ever did–" I point to my earring. "It keeps me safe, no matter the danger."

"Wow. When he finally loses his soul, he'll blame you for it!" Braveheart says, rolling his eyes. "How romantic."

"It was different, in the Ice Kingdom. I think he's just homesick," I say. "In the Ice Palace, we  would sneak out while everyone was asleep, and we'd just talk for hours. He was so brave and exciting and interesting...."

"Are you sure it wasn't just... an exciting situation?" Braveheart squints. "Like–remember Asteroid, from sixth year?"

"I think Arctic and I have a deeper connection than you and Asteroid," I say, rolling my eyes.

"I thought she was bold and exciting and rebellious–but as soon as Mother wasn't in my life, and we didn't have to be a secret? I barely knew her. Most of our relationship really just consisted of coordinating logistics of all those secret meetings and talking about how forbidden our relationship was, but once we didn't have to do that, we realized we didn't really have anything else to talk about. I mean, we barely knew each other! We just kinda... got bored, and drifted apart." he shrugs. "I loved her, I'm glad I knew her. But I couldn't force our relationship to be something it wasn't."

"Well, I've found my dragon, and I'm sticking with him. Unlike you, I can't just drop this relationship whenever I want to. It's him and me against the world." There's something here to save, there has to be.

"Why?" he asks, shrugging. "What's stopping you from dumping him and sending him to fly back home?"

"You have no idea what love is!" I retort. "You've never been in love, not really. But I have, and I'm gonna make this work. I'm gonna–"

I have to make this work, because there's no going back. I have no other option. I can't do this alone.

"Okay, okay," Braveheart says, raising his talons in the air. "If you say so. Fine. Go... get married, and have some dragonets."

I hesitate. "We've already... um... crossed off the second part of that."

He turns to me, wide-eyed. "You're kidding. I mean, I knew you'd lost it the second you brought home and IceWing prince, but–"

"He doesn't know," I say, hushing him, burying my face in my talons. "Nobody does. And I'm terrified that this is when he's gonna realize that this whole–forbidden romance thing–looks a lot prettier on paper than in reality, and gets fed up of this whole ordeal, and runs away. He can't even cook dinner once a week without throwing a tantrum, how on earth is he going to handle a dragonet?"

Braveheart groans. "Well. I am sure glad I'm not you, right now."

"Thanks!" I hiss, shoving him. "I really appreciate that sentiment right now."

"Look, Foeslayer, what do you even have to lose, if he does walk out on you? It's not like he's really contributing..."

"Stop it!" I say, no teasing left in my voice. "You don't understand. It's going to be hard, and I know that, but he's my family now, because I don't have anything else, and–"

"Foeslayer," Braveheart shouts. "Do you know how many dragons are going to die because of you? We don't all have protection earrings! We're gonna give up our lives so you and your mediocre boyfriend can horribly damage your children with the guilt that their existence sparked a war and spin around your weird, toxic cycle for the rest of your lives?!"                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                       

"It's not–it's more complicated then that. I'm not letting other dragons clean up my mess. I'm a soldier, too!"

Braveheart shakes his head. "It's not the same, Foeslayer. I don't have a protection earring. I could die for this. I mean, honestly–how self-absorbed can you get?!"

Tears sting at my eyes. "We never wanted to hurt anyone. I didn't choose this."

Braveheart softens. "I know," Foeslayer, he says pitifully. "It's not fair. But at some point, you're gonna have to start living in the real world. And if you don't, it's gonna catch up to you."

He shakes his head.

And we stand there, looking out over the trees.

We sit in silence. We can't exactly storm off on each other. So instead, I think, and I think, and I think some more.

I know what I have to do.

***

I rush in through the door, the sun starting to rise. I'm tired and frantic and this is what I have to do. This is what's going to make it right.

"Foeslayer?" Arctic asks, confused. "What–"

"Marry me," I say, breathlessly, pulling him close. "Marry me, Prince Arctic."

He freezes. "What?!" I say, laughing nervously. "You're the only one who gets to do big, dramatic gestures?"

"Foe–" he starts. I cut him off, too scared to hear what he might say next.

"Just hear me out. I know I don't even have rings." Can he hear how fast I'm breathing; can he sense the racing of my pulse? "I know we don't have anything right now, I know it's not what either of us are used to–but come on. We'll figure it out; we don't really need a big party if we've got each other. You're already my universe, this is just... signing it on paper. We can have all of your customs if you like, I don't care, I never thought I'd get married anyway." I cup his face in my talons. "We can spend the rest of our lives. Together."

And then, he can't leave me to deal with this alone.

And he grins, a smile breaking out across his snout like melting ice in spring. "Yes," he says finally. "Yes. I'll do it. You and me."

I let out a breath. He did it. He said yes.

Thank the moons.

He seems to hesitate, then grabs onto my talon. I flinch, startled. "What are you doing?" I ask, perplexed.

"We need engagement rings," he says. He grabs my necklace.

"I enchant this to turn into two engagement rings, as per IceWing custom," he says. He's shaking a little, and there's something in his eyes I can't place.

"Arctic," I say softly. "We don't need any of that. It's okay." I liked that necklace. My mother gave it to me for my third hatching day.

"Of course we do," he says. "My soul, it's yours. All of it."

He shouldn't be using his magic, He's damaged enough already.

I bite my tongue, not wanting to ruin the moment.

***

We talk late into the day about plans for the wedding, by the embers of the fire. He always keeps me up too late, and it's messing up my sleep cycle. I'll bring it up another time.

He wants to use his magic to make it a little nicer, since we don't have any spare funds to draw from. Says the vows need to be proper, like in the Ice Kingdom.

If that's what will make him happy, then I'm willing to tolerate it. Minus the magic. If Vigilance sees him throwing around his power, it's only going to add to her ambitions.

Will our dragonet be an animus too?

Will he want them to grow up like IceWings? If he does, he's gonna have a hard time trying to make that happen in the Night Kingdom.

"Foeslayer," Arctic asks. "Hello?" he waves a talon in front of my face.

I blink. "Sorry," I laugh. "Tired. Hey, um—I wanted to ask you something."

"What?" he asks. He looks concerned.

"No, no, it's not bad. I just... well, before we get married," I say teasingly. "How do you feel about dragonets? I mean, you know, not now. But... someday." I laugh nervously.

I can hear my heart racing. He talked about having daughters with Snowflake, didn't he?

"I used to think I'd be a great father. When I was younger." He looks away, shaking his head. "I was stupid, and naive back then. They'd probably turn out just like us."

"B-but—I mean, Arctic, come on, our dragonets would be awesome!" I say, sidestepping that comment, trying not to indulge him in his pity party. "We're gonna have a great life, once we get married and figure this all out."

"What life could they ever have? Both of their tribes would be at war over their very existence. That's just cruel, Foeslayer." He looks away, and I can see him giving up on another piece of our future. I can see it in his eyes.

"Or–maybe they would be really awesome," I say, trying to smile. "Maybe they would have your smile, and my eyes! Why make this huge decision based off of–"

"I would be a terrible father," he bellows. "I don't want dragonets, Foeslayer! I don't want little–screaming, crying, constantly-demanding, ever-disappointing nuisances!" he hesitates. "Why do you care so much about this anyway?"

"I just always imagined being a mom, someday," I say, shrugging helplessly. It's not entirely false–I just didn't picture it happening so quickly. "And I think you're being stupid. Why does it matter, if dragons would be weird about them being hybrids? Why should we care what they think of us?"

"Why can't you let this go?" he asks. "You're–we're not–"

My heart skips. It doesn't feel fun anymore, like butterflies and fireworks. It feels like looking off the edge of a cliff with your wings bound.

I shake my head. "No. No. It's... nothing." I push myself up. "I need to get some air. I'll see you in the later, Arctic."

"Fine. See if I care," he mutters. "I probably won't be sleeping anyway."

I'm strong. I'm smart. It's not gonna be easy, but I can handle it.

I am going to love this dragonet with all that I have. With or without him.