Hvitur - An IceWing Tale

==Note to the Readers==
Hvitur has only one appearance in the entire Wings of Fire series, and that is in the prologue of the the first book, the Dragonet Prophecy. He is the one who influenced the bringing of Glory's egg, by dying...and so he is the dragon who altered destiny and the one who is responsible for everything that happened in all of the books. If he hadn't died - in other words, if he had succeeded in transporting the SkyWing egg - the rainforest would be under NightWing domination, the dragonets could possibly be dead in Queen Scarlet's arena, and everything would have gone spiraling off in a different direction... - Misty
==Chapter One==
It was a regular morning in Queen Glacier's palace.
Well, a regular morning for any typical IceWing.
Not a Seventh Circle messenger who stood outside the gates, eyes wide and mouth agape as he stared at the spiraling towers and gleaming ice statues. 
"So, ya have a message fer Prince Frostweed of the First Circle?" the Fifth Circle guard asked, jolting Hvitur back to reality. "Just lettin' ya know, Frostweed don't like no-good messages." The guard jabbed a hooked claw at Hvitur's chest. "Last time a messenger came with some gloomy news I ne'er saw 'im again."
Hvitur nodded, and trailed a nervous talon down the length of the scroll. It was in a ice-blue sheath, embossed with the name Frostweed. "It's for his seventh hatching day, from his Aunt Firn," he explained.
"Ha!" the guard said, rattling the five silver cricles around his chest, making Hvitur was suddenly concious of his own seven circles. "Ya should hear Prince Frostweed talk about tha' monstress. Hatching day indeed, huh! Frostweed don't tell no one but 'imself that it's his hatching day."
"So...can I go in?" 
"Wha? Oh, very well." The guard grunted, and then stood up, shaking snow off of his scales. "Welcome ta the IceWing palace, messenger!" He flung open the gates.
The effect was dazzling.
A tree that seemed entirely made of ice stood in the center of the courtyard, stretching up to the sky with leafy claws. Regal IceWings with two or one silver disc at their chests strutted across the condensed snow, wings and tails in perfect positions and catching the sunlight. Dragons circled high above, on constant watch for approaching enemies and hunting parties, while even higher up the tallest towers spiralled, ending in dangerous looking points. Sapphires and emerald and amethysts seemed to glitter everywhere on each dragon, and some even had jewels in between their scales.
Before he could even take a step, however, the guard gave him an impatient shove. "Oh, hurry up, will ya? I can't let this here gate hang open while ya sit here goggling. Git goin'!"
"Okay, okay," Hvitur said, rushing past the guard and into the courtyard. 
"Hey! Watch it!" 
"Look out! It's a seven!
"Ach! You're ruining my scales!"
"Who let this disgrace into the queen's palace?"
"Sorry, sorry, sorry!" Hvitur called after the four aristocrats who were reeling away. His face flushed blue as they each gave him an identical stare of disaproval and disdain. "I just have a message for Prince Frostweed, is all!"
"Then get on with it!" the last IceWing hissed, and then he swept majestically into the air. "We don't have time for sevens," he added as a parting shot.
Now that was embarressing, Hvitur thought as he carefully wound his way around the various IceWing officials, all of which glared at him. But I suppose that I am a Seventh Circle dragon and I deserve this. I'm lucky enough to be a messenger. He winced as he remembered how Shard, his older sister, had been stationed at a remote arctic outpost for the remainder of her life. Firn was a positively ancient IceWing who had saved him from this fate because she had needed an honest dragon to carry her letters around the whole Ice Kingdom, and because her 'old wings couldn't take her that far anymore'.
Hvitur took a deep, steadying breath as he walked submissively past the Circles that showed the rankings of all the IceWings. He knew that he would see his name etched at the bottom, and Shard's would be just above his. But he couldn't miss the name Frostweed, glittering at the top of the First Circle. I wish that my name was where his was, Hvitur thought wistfully.
He asked directions to Frostweed's chambers from an elegant guard, who almost didn't answer. When she did, she rattled her one silver circle while giving his seven a pointed stare.
"Highest tower," she said.
"Thank you."
"Thank you, Your Highness."
"But you're not the queen, or the royal family!" Hvitur couldn't help but say. Someone of the royal lineage would never be posted as a guard, even if they were First Circle...!
"But I am much higher up the rankings than you," she said smugly. "And unless you want to get Eighth Circle I suggest you follow my orders and address me as 'Your Highness'."
He didn't even bother to add that there was no Eighth Circle. There was a hidden barb beneath the smugness, as if she were almost coaxing him to retaliate. "Thank you, Your Highness," Hvitur said, bowing low and somewhat exaggeratedly. "I am totally grateful for your sincere directions and I am permanently in your debt."
The look of outrage was almost worth the deep claw scratch he received. Hvitur limped through the palace, trying to contain his laughter. He could almost feel the guard's glare boring into his back, even when he turned a corner and she vanished from sight. 
If the outside of the Ice Palace was beautiful and elegant beyond compare, the interior was even more so. Small snowflakes swirled within the walls, mimicking the weather outside, while staircases and crystallized windows spiralled around him, giving a swan-wing look to the whole decorum. 
Hvitur was about to stop for the hundreth millionth time to admire a statue of some long-lost queen when he heard a loud hiss. 
"And just what took you so long to deliver the message!?"  
Category:Fanfictions
Category:Fanfictions (Incomplete)
Category:Fanfictions (Fanon)
Category:Alternate Universes