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It had been just over a week since Darkstalker had been defeated and Turtle had been abruptly forced to reconcile with the changes he’d felt during that short but stressful week. Changes such as going from the daily activities of Hm, let’s see which royals dislike each other to his friends saying Come kill a queen with me, Turtle! and You’re the only one who can go up against the big villain of the whole story, Turtle! He’d quickly gone from spying and fading into the background at the SeaWing palace to… well, doing the same to Darkstalker, but with MUCH higher stakes.
And then being eventually found out, losing his animus powers, getting a crush, having his sister psychologically manipulate that crush with her magic, then trying to single-handedly fix his sister’s selfishness (and homicidal tendencies)...
It was kind of a lot. Turtle figured he wasn’t being too dramatic in thinking that.
It seemed impossible that one single week at a new dragon school could throw his ENTIRE life off-balance, but a terrifying ancient dragon with the literal power to drag you out of hiding will do that to you. Especially if you’re a prince who has mastered the art of hiding.
Turtle wasn’t exactly sure it was bad that he’d stopped fading into the shadows as much, but it still felt… odd, this new openness that his friends encouraged all the time. He felt uneasy every time he fought against his old instincts which told him to hide, hide, hide.
He wanted to be brave like all of his friends in the Jade winglet, but he wasn’t. Not yet.
It had been just over a week since this probably necessary but uncomfortable shift had started happening, and sometimes it was like his own scales didn’t fit right anymore.
That was part of the reason he’d started writing again, Turtle knew. It wasn’t so much a conscious plan to get back into it—like Qibli had kindly (and maybe pityingly) advised him to do—as a sudden NEED to return to a part of his past that he remembered loving. Maybe he needed to remember what it felt like to be himself, full of big dreams, before his guilt forced him to keep his head down.
So yes, Turtle had been writing somewhat obsessively for the past week. It helped that the school was still slightly in disarray, with students having more free time than they were supposed to. (Not that Tsunami would listen to students’ hopeful suggestions to cancel ALL classes, but global emergencies centered around Jade Mountain tended to keep the teachers busy meeting with various queens.)
It was fun to write, and surprisingly it was fun to share his writing, too. He’d still only shared it with Peril, twice now—the second time he had lied about borrowing the next chapter from the mystery student who had it checked out from the Jade Mountain library.
He felt a little guilty, but a small white lie never hurt anyone. Just for a little while, he kept reminding himself.
But the story was really starting to pick up now; Turtle had moved past writing the introduction and characters into actually developing the story with this third chapter.
Which meant that he was running out of excuses to not tell Peril that this scroll didn’t actually exist anywhere in the library.
Oh, and that he hadn’t even told anyone else about it.
Maybe Peril would be mad that he’d chosen to use her as free editing, too.
He felt more than a little guilty that she literally couldn’t check that it wasn’t a real scroll, because she’d never read one. It’s why she was the perfect choice for his nervous self, but it didn’t make him feel any better about any of it. Turtle was supposed to read Peril her first scroll, and now even after two reading sessions she was still basically at the same place as before, all because he’d lied to her about his own story.
The least he could do was tell her, Turtle decided. So he finally brought it up, very hesitantly, at their next reading session.
“Peril,” he said slowly. “You wouldn’t make fun of me for this story, right?”
Peril obviously remained oblivious to his real confession—it’s MY story, surprise!—and Turtle couldn’t blame her for that. He could blame her, though, for saying, “Oh, well of course not! It’s just like when Scarlet wouldn’t let anyone touch certain gemstones on the ground, and she would get mad even if they couldn’t see where they were stepping.”
Somehow, Peril could make him feel better even when she managed to say exactly the wrong thing.
“Peril,” Turtle started seriously. “You did not just seriously compare me to Queen Scarlet.”
Peril opened and closed her mouth multiple times. She looked down. She looked up. She finally settled for looking at Turtle’s shoulder.
“Um, pretend I said someone else. My point still stands.”
“ Does it? ” Turtle asked, more than a little offended.
“Okay, FINE! Maybe not the best comparison! But I was RIGHT, wasn’t I? It’s a similar situation.”
“HOW is this a similar situation to getting mad at someone for stepping on the FLOOR?”
“IT IS,” Peril insisted loudly. “What I MEAN is, this is important to you, right? You like it a lot?”
“I’m still going to ignore your comparison,” Turtle said, miffed. This was not at all how he’d imagined this conversation going. He was simultaneously annoyed and amused that Peril had managed to turn it into… whatever this was. But he had to clarify one important thing, because his heart was rapidly dropping into his stomach. “Are you only going along with it because it’s important to me? Not because you actually like it?” He tried to speak neutrally, but his voice sounded pitiful even to his own ears.
Peril’s eyes widened, and for a split second Turtle took that as confirmation, before she started talking very quickly.
“Wait. WAIT. That is NOT what you asked. You asked if I would MAKE FUN OF YOU. And friends aren’t supposed to make fun of each other for things they like, I think. So I was just saying I didn’t want to make fun of something you liked, NOT that I don’t like it.”
Peril stopped there, and a very small part of Turtle wanted to strangle her, because seriously, couldn’t she SEE the obvious big question here?
Clearly not.
“...Well. Do you like it?” Turtle asked, forcing each word out painfully.
“Oh! Yeah!” Peril smiled with a new sparkle in her eyes. “I really want to read more, because I keep thinking about what’s going to happen next! And I still can’t believe you won’t tell me who else is HOARDING it ALL TO THEMSELVES!”
It was a little scary the way she could vaguely threaten someone while maintaining her cheery smile, Turtle thought suddenly. Maybe instead of the physical terror from her past, Peril was channeling that same energy into psychological terror.
Turtle decided not to think about that too hard and instead focus on the opportunity that had just been handed to him on a silver platter.
“Actually, Peril… no one else is hoarding it.”
“Huh? IT’S AT THE LIBRARY?” Her face fell when Turtle didn’t confirm that. “Oh. It’s… over? That’s the end?”
“Well, yes. I mean, no, I—”
Now’s the time, Turtle.
“I’m currently writing it, and that’s why it’s not done yet. It was never in the library.”
Turtle bit his lip nervously.
Peril’s jaw dropped.
“OH MY GOD!” she yelled.
Turtle half-winced and half-shrugged and half-smiled all at once, unsure what she meant by that.
“YOU REALLY WROTE IT!! IT ALL MAKES SENSE!”
Once again, a very ambiguous statement, and Peril needed to sort her words out before Turtle hyperventilated from the stress of his admission. He also wished she would speak a LITTLE more quietly.
“So THAT’S why you said there’s no more—THAT’S why you wanted me to like it! OH MY GOD!” she said again.
Turtle couldn’t stand it anymore. “IS THAT GOOD OR BAD??"
“GOOD,” Peril said enthusiastically. “I mean, it’s SO COOL that it’s your story! Do other dragons usually do that? I don’t think many of them write, do they? Or is this a normal thing other dragons do?”
“No, most dragons don’t write. I think I only do because of my mom.”
“Wow,” Peril said, eyes wide. “But why didn’t you TELL me?”
“I don’t know,” Turtle shrugged. That was a lie. “Nervous, I guess. I don’t know.”
“Well, you should’ve said something! I would’ve been so much nicer!”
Turtle snorted a little at the idea of Peril being all sugary sweet about his story. “That’s exactly what I didn’t want, though. I wanted you to judge it on its own merits, not be nice just because I wrote it.”
“But now that you’ve said it’s yours, I can clearly see your unique talent shining through in the writing,” Peril persisted.
That was not a sentence Turtle expected Peril to ever say. “Woah, do you know some kind pretentious bookworm?” he asked with an eyebrow raised ever so slightly.
“Um, kind of.” Peril blinked a few times, suddenly reminded of Osprey.
He had been her only access to scrolls, like, ever.
And of course she was grateful to him, but only now did she realize that it was never any scrolls she wanted to read; he just happened to let her read whatever he was reading. And read it out loud to her, of course.
It was more than any other dragon had done for her, of course, but it only started because he mumbled to himself when he read. The day they actually met, Peril had followed him into his favorite reading nook. She was still a very young dragonet, and desperate to talk to someone besides Scarlet, who had been gone for days; he was a very old dragon, very immersed in his scroll and talking out loud. Little Peril probably got that far into his personal space only because he was so distracted. Other dragons would’ve seen her coming and either ran or shooed her away.
When he did finally notice her sitting beside him, eyes wide and innocent and staring at him hard, his face went through a million hilarious expressions. She definitely thought she accidentally killed him when he jerked backwards so hard out of shock and fear that he fell flat onto the floor.
But after that unfortunate encounter, he had surprisingly let her stick around, closer than any other SkyWing had allowed her to be before—except for Scarlet, of course. So she would sit by him as he read his scrolls, and he would in turn start reading even louder for her.
She had never thought to ask him to read a scroll she wanted. And there were some scrolls she wanted to read, because she would overhear other dragons talking about them, but she just didn’t think of asking him to read them for her.
Wait.
That’s not true, she remembered with a sudden bolt of clarity. She had thought of asking once, about some fantasy scroll other SkyWings had mentioned. But she wasn’t sure Scarlet would be happy with it, so Peril said nothing.
Osprey had never offered, either. Maybe for the same reason, or maybe he really just didn’t think of it.
And most of his scrolls were kind of boring, to be honest. She simply didn’t have a choice but to tolerate them if she wanted to be around a single other dragon.
Peril used to consider him a friend—her only friend. In hindsight, she wasn’t sure that was completely true.
“Actually, not really,” she amended, unwilling to keep dwelling on Osprey and Scarlet. “You’re the only book nerd I know,” she told Turtle.
“It’s book worm.”
“Ha. Sure,” Peril said, sounding way too smug. Turtle rolled his eyes.
Silence fell for a moment, and Peril started to really take in what Turtle had said. Turtle was writing a story; Turtle was clearly very nervous about his story (the way he was so hesitant while reading made so much more sense now—he paused and spoke slowly so often Peril was beginning to wonder if he’d forgotten how to read); and he was SHARING his story with HER because he’d noticed she wanted to read something.
She still hadn’t exactly chosen this story, but then again, how exactly could Peril choose a scroll for herself at this point? It had been far too many years since she was small enough to hide in places she could overhear nearby SkyWings talking and laughing about scrolls, so she didn’t remember any of the old ones she’d wanted to read. And while SOME students in this school talked WAY TOO MUCH about scrolls, she never hung around her classmates enough to hear any details.
Maybe that would have to change if she wanted to make her own decisions about what to read. Especially because she couldn’t ask Starflight, since she wasn’t allowed in the library.
Unless she wanted to yell at him from the hallway outside the library. That might be funny, actually.
But listening to (or maybe even asking) other dragonets about their scrolls was probably a better plan.
“I guess I can stop scaring all the other students, huh,” Peril said lightly. "I've been eyeing them super fiercely."
Turtle looked at her sharply, and she immediately amended her statement.
“I just LOOK at them, that’s all! They’re very skittish, really!”
Turtle didn't believe that for a second. He was quite sure he would've called it glaring if he'd ever seen it, but unfortunately he had only Peril's word to go off of now. Just in case, he tried to confirm: “You just stare at them?”
“I said look. ”
“And how long do you ‘look’ at them for, Peril?”
“...”
Turtle raised an eyebrow.
“...It’s not like I’m counting,” Peril snorted, which told Turtle all he needed to know.
“And why exactly are you scaring other students this time?”
Peril didn’t like the way he implied she did this very often (she only did it for important things, really!) but she ignored that for now. “I thought one of them had the next scroll, so.” She shrugged.
“Aww, you really wanted to read more?” Turtle said, half-jokingly but needing a serious answer.
“I really wish I could flick your head. Yes, I wanted to read it, I like your story, and I’m excited to read more.”
Turtle let the silence sit for a moment before finally asking the real question in a small voice. “Are you, uh, mad at me though…?”
Peril frowned. “Why would I be mad at you?”
“Well, because I told you I would read you a real scroll, and then I just read you my own story instead of something from the library.”
“I’m not mad about that!” Peril said in disbelief. She thought for a moment before amending it to, “Okay, I do still want to read a ‘real’ scroll or whatever. But I really like yours too!”
“Alright, we can do that. Absolutely,” Turtle said quickly. “I’ll get Starflight’s help in collecting all the best ones. We’ll soon make a bookworm out of you, too.”
Peril flicked her tongue out at him, but secretly she was delighted.
Then silence fell again. That conversation had gone better than he expected, all things considered, but Turtle noticed there was still awkwardness in the air. Reading to Peril was supposed to be fun—he didn’t want this new revelation to change that, so he sat there desperately trying to think of something to say.
Peril got there first.
“So who else have you read it to?” she asked innocently.
Turtle scratched at the side of his neck.
“Um… no one…?” he smiled hopefully.
Peril stared at him for a long time, mouth agape.
“I’m the only one who’s read it besides you?” she finally asked in a small voice.
“You’re the only one who knows about it, actually. I haven’t even told anyone else… and DON’T tell ANYONE else. By the way.”
Peril gasped loudly and almost jumped out of her own scales with excitement. “I have a SECRET! Oh my gosh! I get to keep a SECRET of my own!”
She clamped her paws over her mouth and looked into the hall behind her. Luckily there was no one there.
“I will never ever tell a single soul,” she said somberly, turning back to face Turtle, and her face was so serious that he couldn’t help giggling a little.
“Okay, chill, I’m not your queen. But thanks.”
In hindsight, of course Turtle didn’t have to be afraid of sharing his story with Peril. She had a tendency to blurt out her thoughts, which usually made her honest and direct, but Turtle trusted her to be able to keep the secret under wraps…
...For now. Maybe one day he would tell more dragons; he kind of owed everything to Qibli, after all, so maybe he deserved to know.
But for now, he could just read every new chapter to Peril alone. And maybe he could read her some “real” scrolls in the meantime, too.