Life as a Dragon (in the WoF universe)

Hold Your Tongue

The Ice Kingdom was a land of snow and ice and the dragons within it were as cold as the land they lived in and as closed off with their emotions as the kingdom's borders.

Lemming folded her wings, straightening. Her younger sister, Marmot, stood in perfect form next to her, and Lemming quickly tried to fix the position of her talons before her mother noticed. The two silver chains around Mother's neck jingled together as she inspected her dragonets. "Lemming," Mother scolded. "Your wings are in too much." Mother took Lemming's wing and adjusted it. The white scales were smooth and polished. "Well, at least you're clean this time," she huffed, turning away at last.

Marmot stood in perfect position, her pale blue eyes blank and unreadable. Lemming hurried to arrange her own face into a mask. "Marmot is in a perfect stance. Lemming, you are nearly seven and you're still in the third circle. Because of your disrespect!" She huffed out a breath of frozen crystals. "Really!"

Lemming clenched her jaw, forcing herself not to be goaded. She respected authority! She really did. But sometimes dragons were wrong and needed to be corrected! Queen Ivory had no right to make her tribe not be able to voice their opinions. But she did. She ruled with an iron-talon, executing anyone who stepped from line. Her aunt, Queen Bearberry, who had been queen before Ivory, had left the tribe fragile and Ivory was doing her best to rule the tribe and keep it together. Or at least Lemming thought she was.

She touched the three circles around her neck, then snapped her talons down when her mother slapped at them. "Here, put these on," Mother said, handing two diamond cluster earrings to Lemming, and then a silver choker with a small diamond jewel attached to the front that would press uncomfortably to her scales. But she dutifully put them on, knowing the consequence would be something much worse. "Go outside and polish your scales again, Lemming. I'll be right there. Marmot, you be safe, alright?"

Marmot nodded politely, her pale blue scales shining like sapphires in the moonlight. "I will, Mother," Marmot said firmly, her wings shifting ever so slightly.

Mother nodded. Mother flicked her tail at Lemming, and swept out of their palace rooms. Lemming shuffled her talons before following her mother into the hall. They were going to a political dinner. Mother was one of Queen Ivory's advisors, and had to be present at dinners like this. Mother was dragging Lemming along for this torture she would surely get in trouble at because she needed to be tested. She was almost seven now, after all.

The palace walls had slow flurries of snow, crystals hanging in the walls catching and throwing light. The palace was bustling with IceWings, and Lemming had to evaluate each and everyone of them to see if she should bow or stand straighter and expect a bow. It was annoying and pointless and irritating and only Mother's sharp, angry looks kept her from saying anything. How am I going to survive this dinner without completely disgracing myself? She knew she would have to hold her tongue, not speak unless spoken to, keep her emotions under lock and key. Whatever happened at this meeting, she promised herself, she would NOT say or do anything.

"Seal, Council Member, Second Circle," A guard announced as Lemming's mother stepped into the room and bowed to the queen. Lemming followed, forcing her limbs to fold properly into the right position. "Lemming, Dragonet, Third Circle. Here for Testing." Lemming glanced out of the corner of her eye at the guard. Her friend, Tern. Tern's silvery blue scales were polished, as was the plated chestplate and helmet she wore. She had just passed her seventh birthday, and received her position as a guard. Lemming didn't want to be a guard, forced to listen to debates and the queen. She was interested in healing, or maybe being a council member like her mother.

"Rise, my loyal subjects and take your places at my table," Queen Ivory commanded, claws tap tap tapping on the ice table. Lemming stood, following her mother. Her mother shoved her lightly, glaring at the far end where five other six year old dragonets stood. Lemming only recognized two of them: her best friend, Shiver and her other friend, Wolverine. She stopped and turned, heading over. She stepped next to Shiver, pleased to be next to her friend. Shiver was also good at helping Lemming keep her impulses in check. If she couldn't stop herself, maybe Shiver would be able to.