Vengeful Frozen Hearts

For the Fanfiction with a Twist Contest!Featuring Snowdrop, Brisk, and Snowglare.
Words:
Coterie: a small group of people with shared interests or tastes, especially one that is exclusive of other people
Kalon: ideal perfect beauty in the physical and moral sense
Benthic: The bottom of a body of water
Odium: general or widespread hatred or disgust directed toward someone as a result of their actions
Heimat: a place that you can call home; a sense of belonging, acceptance, safety, and connection to homeland
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Snowglare simply couldn’t understand.
Her body shook with revulsion, wings gingerly furled to her sides beneath her red cloak, pointed snout curled up in snide and pride. The aura she radiated was powerful; casting away the unworthy glances of the inferior, as she sauntered through crowded streets.
She never enjoyed visiting Possibility; the most popular multi-tribed city on the continent. IceWings were never meant to mingle—much less live—among the lowliness of the other six tribes. It wasn’t right. They were the finest creatures to walk Pyrrhia—a true example of kalon. 
So her unruly, abysmal, good-for-nothing daughter taking up residence in Possibility simply didn’t make any sense.
“The Ice Kingdom never felt like home,” Snowdrop would always exclaim upon the introduction of the topic. “I was never welcomed or happy or accepted there, even with Cornice abolishing the rankings.”
“You only have yourself to blame for that,” Snowglare bit back in reply. “I tried to make you behave like the rest of us, to make you an IceWing our family would be proud of, but you were always rebellious and disobedient. It was your own actions that alienated you from the rest of the tribe!”
“And you!” the younger IceWing would screech, her snout mere inches from her mother’s. “How could I ever stay in a kingdom that encourages my own mother to actively refer to me as some kind of disgrace? For years you were breathing down my neck, condemning me for a life I didn’t want. Is it really that hard to figure out why I’d want to leave? Why I’d want to get away from you?”
She’d then step back, heaving breaths of air in rapid, exasperated puffs. “The only reason I let you anywhere near me is because Brisk adores you. Unlike you, I’m going to let my dragonet make some of her own choices. If spending time with you is one of them, I’m willing to sacrifice my happiness for hers. But of course,” She stood back and turned away to bound up a thick, black staircase, “You wouldn’t know what that’s like, would you?”
Naturally, her words had stung, her bitter resentment paving a path of sadness and hurt into Snowglare’s heart. But she was quick to brush it off, unfazed, IceWing elegancy and coolness still intact. That had always been Snowdrop’s problem, she tutted. Foolishly allowing raw emotion to dictate her actions. Someday it was going to get her killed.
Shaking the memory’s grasp from her mind, she continued forward, the smell of mixing rich tribal spices and roasted meat advancing unceremoniously through her senses, accompanied closely by the gross, arrogant yells of empty-headed merchants. Several dragons rushed past her without warning in a rush to acquire such treats. Ignorant to the nimble IceWing among them, their long tails thawed against her scales and their dirty talons trampled over her own pristine ones. 
How Snowdrop could call such discourteous disorder her “heimat” would forever be beyond her.
Perhaps visiting Snowdrop would be more… tolerable if she wasn’t so insistent on living by Possibility’s only wretched marketplace, Snowglare thought, swallowing a rising growl, as she turned onto the designated street, this one noticeably less populated than the last, but far cleaner and well maintained. 
Along the sides of the street, buildings sat, and unlike the other sand structures found around the city, these were made from sturdy brick and stone. She approached the tallest of the bunch, settling before the door and rapping lightly at the wooden frame. She was left waiting only a few moments before the door creaked open and the prickly, sour-laced glare of her daughter’s face peeked through and scowled at her.
Snowdrop looked relatively the same from the last time she’d visited, although the bags underneath her tired eyes and the stress lines furrowing her forehead were concerningly new. But otherwise, her beauty remained intact, pale blue scales shimmering like icicles and glistening morning dew. Heavy earrings like silver teardrops dragged down her ears. She smelled of an odd mixture of peppermint and cinnamon. Good. If she was going to live in Possibility, she should at least keep up appearances.
“Well?” Snowglare said, voice maintaining a neutral tone despite Snowdrop’s resenting expressions. “Are you going to let me in or not?”
A snarky reply seemed to rest on the tip of her tongue, but she must have thought better of it, for she stepped aside to allow her passage without a word.
With a tight, thin-lipped smile, Snowglare slipped past her and into her home, the impudent scent of wax candles immediately assaulting her. Glass cases upon small podiums were scattered across the room, decorating the first floor of the building and keeping the gemstone contents inside secure and safe. She eyed them disapprovingly. She’d had hope that Snowdrop would follow in the family’s footsteps and take up studying law to eventually become a prosecutor like herself, punishing the guilty and upholding the law.
It was foolish, of course, to think that Snowdrop would even contemplate doing anything she wanted, especially considering her interests were attracted elsewhere. From even her dragonethood, she was always fascinated with mining and collecting jewels and crystals. It had left Snowglare mortified. Only IceWings in the lowest of circles worked such ghastly positions. 
Which is why she forced her attend law school anyway. A completely unsuccessful attempt to drive out the idea, as upon Snowdrop’s move to Possibility, she abandoned her studies and became a professional cook and gemstone collector instead. Her family had been rightly disappointed. Snowdrop was the first in decades to divert from their preassigned path; her act of defiance and blatant disregard for their traditions would not be forgotten.
Snowglare had withered with shame after her family had dispersed. They were not silent on the matter of her inability to raise a proper IceWing—Snowdrop’s insolence was just as much as her mother’s fault as it was hers—their newfound odium towards her was clear. They barked cold remarks about humiliation being brought up their household, berating her for not disposing of the flawed nuisance while she was still young. Upon the immediate realization of her defectiveness, the expectation was that she left her out in the middle of the arctic to die. 
But she couldn’t bring herself to do it. She thought that she could still fix her, that she could prove that she hadn’t failed. With a few more years of strict teachings, Snowdrop would rise elegantly through the rankings, take her rightful place in the First Circle, and become a brilliant, law-abiding member of IceWing society.
(Of course, the former had been the plan before Cornice unceremoniously disregarded years upon years of precious history and decided IceWings were well off without any measly rankings or circles. Even several years later, Snowglare still fumed at the memory. It was simply so disrespectful.)
She was wrong, and at times, she regretted not doing so when the opportunity had presented itself. At least then she’d be saved so much future embarrassment and disappointment.
But now she had a second chance. Brisk was everything she’d wanted Snowdrop to be; obedient, pretty, and easy to control. She always did what Snowglare asked of her, wishing to be a perfect IceWing, like her grandmother. She didn’t complain about the future she already had laid out for her (despite Snowdrop’s insistence that she could whatever she wanted when she grew up), or freely broadcast every emotion across her scales, or treat the other tribes with respect they didn’t deserve. No, she listened carefully to each of her lessons, taking notes and studying hard, and held herself proudly, boasting about her heritage and only associating herself with other IceWings.
Snowglare couldn’t be happier. If she continued her success with Brisk’s upbringing, her family would surely forgive her. Her mistakes with Snowdrop could be overlooked. While no doubt they’d be reluctant about it, they would ultimately Snowdrop had just been a simple, while still abominable, mistake—a mere hiccup in the road.
“Brisk is upstairs,” Snowdrop informed her, returning shortly after. Unlike her expression, her voice held no anger, leaving only room for expressionless disinterest. She padded towards her desk at the back of the room, presumably to resume reading over and filing out the several sheets littered across the wooden surface.“She’s been waiting for you all day.”
Snowglare did not reward that with a response she was expecting. “I would like Brisk to accompany me back to the Ice Kingdom,” she said, almost absentmindedly, dragging her gaze away from her daughter’s sheltered treasures. She stared holes into her skull. 
Snowdrop froze, emotions visibly warping from fury and loathing to shock and bewilderment. For several delicate moments, she didn’t respond, leaving Snowglare to tap a claw impatiently against the carpeted floors and allow her the time to process her request. 
“Absolutely not,” she finally snarled, rage returning with a vengeance as she withdrew from her paperwork to glare pointedly at her. “I don’t want Brisk anywhere near that awful place.”
 
Snowglare cocked her head. “Possibility isn’t exactly a great place right now either,” the older IceWing countered passively. “Wasn’t it just a week ago when that infamous hybrid terrorist coterie set several lodges ablaze and killed and maimed who knows how many dragons? The Ice Kingdom has never had to deal with such problems.”
Pulling herself up from her chair, Snowdrop scoffed at that. “I’m sorry, are we talking about the same kingdom? The one that underwent three historical civil wars because dragons like you are too haughty and proud to consider change?” She walked around the desk to stand before her, teeth bared in a twisted, ugly snarl. “As long as I am alive, Brisk is never setting foot there. Why can’t you just accept that this is our home now?”
“I’m not exactly seeing the problem here. It will only be for a few weeks. Brisk needs to become more integrated with our culture if—”
But Snowdrop wasn’t listening, or if she was, she certainly didn’t care enough to let her finish. “I shouldn’t be surprised that the only thing you care about are your stupid traditions,” she hissed. Her voice was cracking with emotion, every stress and fear she fought to withhold tumbling into her tone. “Brisk is devastated. You know this. Her father has disappeared to moons know where. His body could be at the benthic of some ocean and he didn’t even say goodbye, but you don’t care because obviously impressing your prudish family is so much more important than comforting your own granddaughter.”
A bitter bout of laughter erupted from her throat. “You don’t deserve her. She looks up to someone like you and you can’t even bring yourself to show you actually care about her at all. You have to stop acting like she’s some trophy you can put on a shelf. She’s so much more than that.”
Snowglare’s glare was hard. “I am not—”
“Yes you are,” Snowdrop interrupted again. “I don’t expect you to ever admit it, but it doesn’t make it any less true. The only reason she’s in your life is because you want to force her into a neat little present and get back into the family’s good graces. Contrary to popular belief, I’m not stupid, Snowglare.” At that, she turned and stomped back to her desk, heated rambling coming to a close.
Snowglare took several minutes to compose herself and go over her words. It didn’t take her long to completely disregard them, however. She did care about Brisk in the sense that her success benefited the both of them greatly. Did she feel sentimental attachment towards the dragonet? Not particularly, but that wasn’t her fault. IceWings weren’t supposed to feel sentimental attachment towards anyone. It was a weakness and enemies would be eminently prone to exploit it. It was common sense and she couldn’t understand why Snowdrop found that so difficult to comprehend. 
Such is the way of life, I suppose.
“At least I’ll raise her to be more of a proper IceWing than you’ll ever be,” Snowglare all but scoffed dismissively. “At least she’ll be something our family can be proud of. Under my care, she’ll be blossom into a beautiful, successful IceWing. You should be glad I’m taking time out of my day to do this for her.”
Snowdrop frowned. “Fine. Just go away if you’re going to remain an unsympathetic prat and not going to even try to see things from my point of view.” With a sigh, paired with a sad shake of her head, she picked up her quill and immersed herself in her work once more, ignoring Snowglare’s disappointed, judgmental stares.
Snowglare flared her wings and stormed up the steps to the building’s upper floors. The stench of candles was stronger than before, and with repugnance, she was reminded vaguely of peaches. She wrinkled her snout and pinched the bridge of nose, intent of locating Brisk.
It seemed Brisk found her first, however. Upon her completion of ascending the flight of stairs, the dragonet was slipping from her room, purple leopard-spotted face contorted with deep thought. At the sight of her, her expression settled into respect and she dipped her head low in greeting, as an IceWing should be taught. 
Good, she thought, regaining comfort by the gesture. A ghost of a smile separated her lips. 
Until she excused herself and descended the stairs. Snowglare narrowed her eyes. Perhaps if it had been anyone else, they would have missed the skip in her steps or the twinkle in her eyes, unfortunate semblances of the hyper, high-on-emotions dragonet she used to be.
Brisk had mentioned that she’d been spending more time with Snowdrop after the disappearance of her father; they’d played board games and took long walks through the city and frequently travelled to the other kingdoms to further broaden Snowdrop’s collection.
She must be rubbing off on her, she mused, the thought bringing her some dismay. She couldn’t have Snowdrop undo all her progress. Not after coming so far. Brisk was the only one standing between her and possible disownment by their family. If her hard work began to decay…
I’ll just have to fix it. Work harder. I won’t let Snowdrop take this opportunity away from me, especially since it’s her fault. I can do this.
Everything’s going to be fine.
Category:Fanfictions
Category:Fanfictions (Incomplete)
Category:Fanfictions (Fanon)
Category:Content (Snowglyphss)