Villitrekettrin

Particularly brawny IceWing with an axe.
Sort of that, but less heavy and big like Monster.
And more muscular, yet fast on his feet.
And capable of giving 100% during a charge.
And he's a commoner dragonet, dragged by his parents, to serve their overlord after Ylgrin's father left the Ice Kingdom, loyal to the bitter end for Ylgrin's father, as much as a subject must be to their lord...
Except he didn't really share that.
He didn't want to be dutiful. Fuck duty! All he saw was a crabby old man who sneered at the sight of them whenever he walked his rare visits to his village.
Who wanted to die for some whatever-named lord who never cared to know them?
But family is family.
So he stayed for his family's sake... and his parents got killed during a raid.
This dragonet, in an open moment of weeping, asked Ylgrin's father what happened to his parents.
You know what he responded with?
"They died with strength, bravery, and honor, dragonet. We all must sacrifice for a good cause. They will pave the road to my rightful kingship soon, I swear it to you!"
Didn't even know their names that well.

But that dragonet? That's when he realized: his parents died for nothing.
They died and were buried in some unmarked bit of earth for nothing.
And they died for Ylgrin's father... and her as the heir.
Just for some dipshit noble to sit his entitled ass on a throne and put a crown on his spoiled noble brat when he croaks.
And Ylgrin didn't know their names either (I mean, she was like 3-4 at the time so...)
So he... just kind of just felt this emptiness inside afterwards.
Started to act out, get reckless, charge in without regard to his health, become unprofessional and surly, and defiant of Ylgrin's father.
... Hoping Ylgrin's father would call for his death and he would meet his death taking Ylgrin's father with him.
Whereas Icefyre is that idealization of death before dishonor to gain meaning through sacrifice...
This is just that self-obliterating impulse to just die and gain meaning through another's vicious murder.
That black hole inside you that wants you to destroy yourself and take someone with you.
And so, he kept charging into battles, gaining raid scars, but just wanting someone to kill him.
Take advantage of a reckless moment, skillful pierce his neck, chop off his claw and then cut him down from chest to groin.
And this kept going, this dragonet even accumulating a wrathful name among the band as a fierce fighter... but vicious, dishonorable, openly scornful of authority and with a trigger as sharp as an icicle.

Except. Well. Ylgrin sees him. She sees all the commoner dragonets her age that are always training and never speaking to her because of her class.
And she sees in him... empty eyes that weep with no tears in the light, but weep nevertheless, his entire body seems to shake with a weight that goes beyond mere movement.
Icefyre shows no vulnerabilities because he feels he has to live up to a certain ideal and because those he respects will mock him for it.
This dragonet shows no vulnerability, because who the fuck cares about him.
He'll die alone, one corpse cut down as a bandit, and no one will give a shit so what's the point of tears.
And when Ylgrin tries to get near and talk... "Another word and I stab up your tail with a spear."
And a snappish snarl that goes beyond general unruly behavior.
And Ylgrin feels she has to retreat for now, but just sees this terrible weight across his entire body.
More weeping without tears.
And she notices something: that this dragonet doesn't have bad counterpoints against her father.
Yes, he mouths his opinions freely, but at the same time, take away the needlessly abrasive language, and he's not wrong. There's a decent mind to him.
And she keeps her distance, finding him interesting... and terribly sad.

Cue: her father's death.
He sees the corpse with his own eyes. Feels no swelling of his chest. No obvious glee. His parents are dead. He's still an exile without a home. Except no dipshit noble's head to bury an ax... except for Ylgrin's.
He waits at first. He hopes to mouth off to her the same way as he did with her father. She'll trip off, call for his death. Her father might've been older and less triggered by a dog's mouthy words, but dragonets his age get ticked off easier.
She'll show she's her father's daughter all over again and he can finally die with meaning.
... She appoints him one of her serjeants.
Over lots of nobility protest.
Blood's too low quality, vicious, vile, cutthroat, likely to snap at you like he did with your father!
And even some commoner grumblings about how he hasn't shown himself as serjeant material.
She rejects them, makes other serjeant appointments. Orders everyone to leave except for the two of them.
Alone.
He asks why she appointed him to such a role.
"Because you will say the truth sharp and plain to me. I have enough yes-dragons and nobility guiding me. I need a common, hard-worn claw to help guide me when I fly astray. I believe you can do that."

And he... just stares.
And then asks if she understands who he is, what he was to her father.
"I'd like to say I'd know more than most here... but that's not my place to say. I understand I am not as wise and strong as my father."
And she orders him to leave.
After a silence of a minute, he does.
He sleeps and thinks to himself that Ylgrin might say that, but when push comes to shove, she'll cave and order his death for insolence.
And that starts to define their earlier working relationship as higher officers: a serjeant snapping back the logistical and day-to-day soldiery flaws with his captain's plans, and the captain calmly, but firmly, pointing out that she'll take his thoughts into consideration... and doing so, but not all of them.
But never ordering his death for talking back at her.
And the more and more he realizes Ylgrin's not going to kill him... the more he starts to tone down his tone, his insolence, his fierce manner a bit.
Ylgrin even noticing how he's stopped yelling in the war room for once.
... And even noticed he's taking his serjeant role seriously beyond the bare minimum.
Starting to integrate with his underlings beyond training sessions and professional capacity.
Being a more boisterous figure, if still a bit stoic and no soft smiles.

And then, one winter night... when they were alone...
"Why are you so nice to me? I hated your father. I hated you. Not as much as your father, but hate throbs in me for the longest time. So why? Plenty of your lickspittles could've taken my place and I could've died somewhere for your cause. Paved your road." The last bit said with the fiercest venom.
"... I don't entirely know myself. A few times, when we were younger, I saw you looked... lost. Lost and sad. Maybe that's why."
"... That's it?"
"Maybe, I was nice because your parents were gone... and it was on my father's orders. Maybe I was nice because I thought over my father a bit. Maybe because I wasn't him. I can never preserve the past in ice for you, but I can try to be better than the past. I know it's not enough. I'm sorry it's not enough."
"I was too young to know their names... I'm sorry... what were they like?"
And he, in response... starts shaking his body. Empty weeping. Ylgrin hugs him.
"You miss them dearly, don't you."
And that's when real tears come out, pouring like rain, as he wraps his arms around Ylgrin's smaller body, taking comfort and catharsis in someone acknowledging his loss.
And, from there, Ylgrin never had a more trusted, loyal, honorable, and deferent serjeant than him.
Still very fierce and headstrong... but tempered with experience and realizing he could let go of vengeance and pain and grief.
And that black hole inside him recedes.

And... a few days later, he apologizes to Ylgrin.
For judging her. For snapping at her. For being curt and snappish and rude and disrespectful to her.
From the start.
Before her father's death.
And... he starts to work more closely with her.
They start to hold each other's stares in a way that's not professional.
Their claws touch, there's a shudder that goes beyond heat on their scales.
Ylgrin's the first to feel the attraction, but her serjeant's not far behind.

And they deal with their feelings... awkwardly. From Ylgrin's standpoint, she's trans and thinks she'll make a fool of herself, professionally and personally if she confesses and he doesn't feel that way, and she thinks her serjeant would be giving up... things he wanted for her different body. Or that she'd be pressuring him like jackass noble would demand out of a commoner.

And her serjeant... definitely doesn't give two dungs that she's trans, but worries that he's a commoner and he'll make a fool of himself, professionally and personally if he confesses and she doesn't feel that way, maybe there's some unwritten rule against a commoner and noble mating up and, ohhh, what if she loses more credibility with partnering with him, a low-blood? And that it's not proper for a commoner to ask out a noble at all and he doesn't even know what the proper way to do that! And, oh god, he once told her that he'd stab up her tail with a spear if she didn't leave! UGH, I'm such a jackass!