How Moorhen Became Queen

This story is written and created by Soft Raspberry. Idk why the writing is all weird though. 
How She Became Queen
	She roams around the palace, talons shuffling awkwardly when she sees her siblings. Any time a head pokes out of a doorway, dark, narrowed eyes are pointed at her. Heads snap away and claws are heard scrambling down the hard rock floors.
She didn’t mean to do it.
She and her brother, Swamp, were playing fight in the arena only yesterday, and her sharp claws accidentally slashed against his snout, limbs, and wings, thick red blood pouring out of the wounds.
“Crane! Cattail!” she had shrieked to her servants. They rushed in and asked what had happened.
“We were playing,” Moorhen had explained breathlessly. “I accidentally hurt him.” The healers gave her a skeptical look and hurled Swamp onto their shoulders.
“We’ll take care of him,” they had sighed. They marched back into the palace, and while they were at it, spread a rumor she had killed her brother, or at least wounded him severely.
But she hadn’t.
Her mother clatters noisily, majestically, down the stairs and ignores Moorhen, chattering busily with a small brown dragonet. Diamonds and rubies glitter everywhere on her horns, tail and limbs. Moorhen ducks out of the way and whirls into a room nearby. Queen Mush glances her way just for a moment and frowns, tail lashing just the slightest bit. 
It’s not like she cares about Swamp. 
She leaps out of the window when her mother’s gaze lands back on her servant. She tucks her wings in and dives down to the muddy, swampy lake. Reeds grew and dull lily pads stood on the lake. She could see the bland orange fish flopping around, almost surrendering to the dragons.
Amber is waiting there, staring listlessly into the blurry water. She picks up a clump of mud and it runs through her talons, plopping back into the lake.
“Hi,” Moorhen tries. Amber slowly looks at her.
“You’re our bigwings,” she whispers. “Why would you hurt Swamp?” Moorhen flinches and looks away.
“I didn’t mean to,” she tells her. “Everyone thinks it’s my fault, when it was only an accident.”
“Oh, really, then why are there so many scratches and bruises on him?” Amber scoffs.
“I DIDN’T MEAN TO,” Moorhen nearly shouts. “It was an accident okay? Please take my word. I am your bigwings, right?” she adds with a hopeful smile.  
“Fine,” Amber says, tilting her snout up. Moorhen sighs and stares at the ground. She presses herself down and burrows herself into the thick, gloopy mud.
Amber stands up and leaps into the sky. “Meet you in the palace hunting room,” she calls. Moorhen grins faintly before she stands up, shakes off her wings, and also flies into the hunting room.
The hunting room is a large, muddy room with chickens, pheasants, pigs, and lots of other prey galloping around. It’s a place for dragonets to catch prey without putting a lot of effort into and the royal family to hunt when they don’t feel like going out. There’s a large, brick wall with hay strewn about that encloses the room so prey can’t escape but dragons can hop over easily. Usually it is very noisy, chickens squawking and dragons yelling in triumph when they catch something, and still others angry when a pig slips through their talons. 
But today, it is mostly silent, only her, Amber, and a royal uncle with a stone, serious face, and enormous muscles. Most of the prey is slumbering; the rest sitting like they had resigned to being eaten. 
Another brown dragon stomps in and drops a platter of chickens on the ground, the chickens squabbling around to get off the plate. He hurries back out again and the chickens spot the other dragons. They all back into a corner and huddle there, terrified. 
Moorhen sticks her claws into a nearby pig, then eats it in a few bites. 
“I’m going to go to the healers,” she tells Amber. She walks out of the room, casually, then shoots off to the fresh-smelling room at the end of the hall. 
Swamp was laying on a bed of mushy mud, eyelids drooping. Moorhen let out a gasp of horror, stepping closer to examine him. 
“I’m so, so, sorry,” she cries. He lifts his head and smiles the best he can. 
“I know it was an accident,” he assures her. “Everybody keeps telling me otherwise, but I know it wasn’t on purpose.”
“Good,” she says. “Because I am going to challenge Mother.” Swamp shakes his head sadly.
“You wouldn’t,” he coughs. “Please, no, we can’t lose another sister. You’re our bigwings.” He sniffs like a sad scavenger. 
“No,” she says fiercely. “I need to do this.” She takes his talon into hers. “Mother is gaining power. She’s been queen for 35 years. It’s time.” 
Amber walks in. “Yeah. If Moorhen doesn’t do it now, it’ll never happen.” She sits down on the bed and sinks into the gloppy surface. 
“Okay, it’s settled,” Moorhen says, trying not to laugh. “Tonight, when Mother sits on her throne and eats all those chickens,” here she scrunches up her snout, “and bosses all those servants around.” Amber stifles a giggle, and Swamp grins. She rests one claw on Amber’s and clutches Swamp’s harder. “I’m ready.” 
. . . 
Queen Mush is sitting on the throne, muscles bulging even more than the last time Moorhen saw her. Her face is solid stone, glaring at all her subjects. 
Moorhen bows instinctively. 
“What are you doing here?” Mush roars. Her claws press harder into the wood of the throne and scrape it with a horrid sound. 
Moorhen makes sure everyone is looking at her. “Queen Mush of the MudWings,” she says, snout tilted up. “I challenge you for the throne of the MudWings.” 
Mush snorts, then rises up to her full height. “You think you will be able to win,” she snarls. “But you’re as weak as a caterpillar.” 
“GUARDS! GET DOWN HERE AND LET'S DO THE CHALLENGE,” Mush hollers to the level above them. 
She doesn’t sound very worried, Moorhen fretts.  
Amber rushes in and takes Moorhen’s talon in hers, tears streaming down her snout. “Be safe,” she says. 
Mush takes all her diamonds and rubies off one by one, placing them in a crusty clay bowl on the edge of the throne. Without looking at Moorhen, she smoothly walks outside to the arena. 
“I will,” Moorhen tells her. “I will.” She hesitantly follows Mush out to the arena. Her tail is drooping and her muscles feel weak, just like her mother said. 
Don’t let her get to you. 
It seems as if the whole kingdom is waiting for Moorhen to die right under her mother’s claws. The arena was packed wall to wall, the mud seats crackling as if they might break down at any moment. On the top of the arena, merchants are holding pigs and pheasants, calling out to anybody who’s hungry. MudWings sitting there are holding small pigs already, and even a few SandWings watching from the top. 
Mush flicks her tail and several burly MudWings bang on wooden drums, plopped on the outer edge of the dirt arena. She looks very imposing and ever ready to kill her. 
An announcer by the name of Muck clears his throat until the audience falls silent. “First,” he booms, pointing at Queen Mush, “is Queen Mush of the MudWings!” An instant roar and cheer erupts from the crowd, and many nod their heads and do mini bows. So. Obviously they like her. “Next, we have the challenger, Princess Moorhen!!” A new, fresh rally explodes, possibly even bigger than the last. “Let us see the fight! Queen Mush and Princess Moorhen, go at it!” 
Mush flexes her claws and leaps at Moorhen, grinning evilly. Moorhen easily ducks out of the way and smacks her mother with her tail, earning a ferocious roar and a growl from behind her. She whips around and her mother is crouched low, holding a bloody snout.
“You think you’re going to win,” she snarls. 
“I do,” Moorhen replies simply. She jumps on Mush’s back and sinks her claws into the scar from when a SkyWing attacked her. Mush howls, wriggling to get away. Moorhen looks up and sees Amber holding Swamp and smiling. 
She pries her claws out and slashes them across her snout and tail. She bites Mush’s weak spot on her tail and then finally backs away, watching her struggling mother thrash around. She makes one final limp move and then finally flops to the ground. 
A MudWing starts clapping.
Then more MudWings. 
Then the whole crowd, even the dazed SandWings, starts clapping for her. 
She smiles. 
Amber flies down to her, grinning, and takes her hand and shoves it into the air. 
“This is our new queen,” Amber bellows. “This is who we will follow. Queen Moorhen!” A skinny MudWing skids to a stop in front of Moorhen, eyes shining with hope and curiosity. He was about her age, possibly a year or two older. He fiddles with a piece of dried reed and tips his head up to her. 
“Queen Moorhen,” he says. “Fissure.” He bows and then smiles and blushes in an incredibly cute way. 
Please do NOT tell me you like him. 
Amber giggles at them and whooshes away, presumably to get Swamp. Fissure glances at her one last time before turning around and bounding away. 
“Wait!” She calls to him. “Come back!” He flies back with an enormous and very silly grin on his face. “Would you like to join me for dinner tonight?”  
“Sure,” he says, and twines his tail around hers.
The end.
Category:Fanfictions
Category:Fanfictions (Completed)