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theseinfernalangels · 3 months ago

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Heavenly - Bodhi Durran

Synopsis: Four times in which you almost kissed Bodhi, and one where he did it for you.

Includes: Fluff, angst, Reader has some issues, maybe a teeny bit suggestive at the end? Friends to lovers, almost a relationship but not quite, mutual pining. Takes place mostly during Fourth Wing and ends in Iron Flame.

A/N: AUGH this is my baby. I’m in love with this one guys. Also, pretend what I wrote about Tyrrish culture is 100% canon and not totally made up for the vibes.

You always liked the snow.

It was gorgeous; the little white specks of frost glided through the air with what looked like practiced ease, littering your flight leathers with faint, watery markings. You enjoyed the fact that it was silent, unlike the rain, which sometimes made entirely too much noise for your liking — it made it so much easier for you to sit on a distant windowsill and stare into space for what felt like hours at a time. Unnervingly, you also liked how it bit at you, the cold. You’d lay in the snow with your lightest leathers on just to feel the wet chill sink into your bones instead of dry, all-consuming heat that seemed to trail you wherever you went.

Most of all, you like the sight in front of you: Bodhi Durran, in his tall, tawny glory, looking particularly…pretty with little flurries settled in his dark curls. A small part of you aches to run your hands through them, to knock the speckles out — but, you decide, he looks like the pinnacle of perfection like this.

Said man peers down at you with a look of cool concern. “You’re going to freeze,” he accuses.

You smile serenely, your eyes tracking the falling flakes as they descend upon you both.

“Maybe,” you reply. “It would be worth it, to stay out here.”

At once, Bodhi’s eyes soften. He knew your ordeal with heat and fire all too well.

“Still,” he chides, slipping a toned arm around your waist and pulling you into him. “C’mere. I’d prefer it if you didn’t get hypothermia because you like to stand in negative temperatures without your flight jacket.”

You tense for a moment before slowly allowing yourself to melt into his warm embrace, bracing your face on his chest as you both watched how the snow fell in the late-January sky. No words were needed between the two of you when all you needed were gentle touches and the chilly air.

You feel his eyes on you, so you reluctantly peel your face away from his jacket and tilt your head up to face him. Predictably, he’s smiling — but not a full on grin like usual. No, he’s wearing a smile of pure fondness as his gaze meets yours. You can’t help but catch your eyes on his lips, though; Bodhi has always been handsome, even as a younger boy, but the atmosphere combined with his fuller features make him look downright ethereal.

“A penny for your thoughts?” he prompts you gently, nudging you in the ribs.

The touch makes you flinch a little before you straighten and raise your chin. “How much to keep them in?” you challenge.

He chuckles and raises his free hand innocently. “You got me there. Just wanted to know what’s got your eyes all hazy.”

You barely noticed it; your eyes, although you’d been observing the snow keenly, were less focused on the environment around you and more in tune with the shape of his mouth, the little scar on his lower lip, how his mouth moved when he smiled…

How his pretty lips would feel on yours.

You hum. “Nothing much. Just daydreaming again, I guess.”

Silence. Waiting.

“And,” you add, “the weather is making my eyes water.”

Bodhi lets out an exasperated but affectionate huff and moves away from you briefly to peel his flight jacket off and sling it around your shoulders.

“You know,” he drawls, “you’d think being a Wingleader would establish some sort of self-preservation in you.”

Instantly, you’re enveloped into pure heat, but not the kind that usually bothers you. No, this heat is warm and velvety, soothing in a way that is purely Bodhi.

“Nah,” you reply with the faintest trace of a satisfied grin. “Quite the opposite, actually. It makes you willing to risk everything for this sort of stuff.”

You keep it vague.

This sort of stuff.

The peace you feel as you watch snow fall like ashes.

The chance to have a quiet moment for once in your too-chaotic lives.

The moment of clarity you feel when you stare at Bodhi and pray to yourself, “Loial, I’ve had too much taken from me already. Please do not touch him, too.”

༘⋆༄.°⋆

The air around you is charged and slightly humid as you watch a pair of first-years, two boys, fling each other to the padded ground of the sparring gym. It’s rough, hard, and ruthless…Everything you’ve come to enjoy about training at Basgiath.

It’s usually easy to predict who will come out on top with these sorts of matches. One of the guys, Cael McCleary, had clearly been holding back out of pure nervousness when he stepped onto the mat. You sympathize with him — but you also know that sympathy would get him nowhere, especially against a man like Jamilian Sirko, who you’re pretty sure is half war cannon the way he towers over almost all of the cadets here like a bull in a china shop.

Surprisingly, though, McCleary holds his own against Sirko, using his anxious energy as a means of dodging and weaving faster than the taller boy is able to strike. It’s impressive, no doubt about it — but it’s also a test of endurance. Where Sirko is strong and built like a great wall of pure, dark muscle mass, he can’t use that to his advantage against McCleary, a lithe and reedy guy, for much longer before he eventually tires out. Neither of the two look like they’re ready to drop, though — not by a long shot.

You sigh. Looks like you’d be here for a while.

“Good, you two!” you call from your place on the side. “Hurry it up a little, would you? You’re the only thing preventing your squad mates from leaving.”

A quiet brush of footsteps behind you tells you that someone has come to stand by you for the time being — Bodhi, as told by his gleaming grin.

“Look at you, being all commanding,” he greets you, drawing out the last word dramatically. “Gods, how long have they been going for?”

You break your gaze away from the fighting cadets to glance over at the clock on the wall. It’s 11:23.

“I think we’re going on fifteen minutes now,” you murmur. “McCleary is really trying to drag this out to get Sirko down. I can’t say I like the timing, but I do admire his strategy.” You pause. “What are you doing here?”

Bodhi nods, his gaze turning analytical. “Of course,” he adds, completely ignoring your question. “I think he needs to find a place to end it. A good kick to the back of the knees or even the throat would do Sirko in good.”

You’re about to repeat yourself and insist he answer your question when a flash of silver catches your eye — a small dagger being slid from the sideline towards the sparring cadets, its hilt extended to where Sirko would most easily be able to snatch it, if he had the balls.

You freeze. Bodhi nudges you gently with his elbow. “What did they agree to beforehand?”

McCleary, although his fingers twitched anxiously, raised his chin and nodded to his friend, who held three small knives between his fingers. “No weapons?” he asked, raising a hand in need of shaking.

Sirko raised an eyebrow before smiling easily, grasping McCleary’s hand with practiced ease. “No weapons,” he repeated, sealing the deal before they backed away from each other in waiting.

“Oi! Break it up, both of you,” you call over to the boys, who are panting and looking a little more than eager to finish it. You gesture to the little blade that both cadets have yet to notice pick up. “Were you not paying attention to their terms? No weapons for this round. I don’t want to see that shit again.” You quickly use your signet to bend the air around the blade and bring it to you for you to grab.

You sweep it to your outstretched hand and inspect the knife. It’s indistinguishable, really, with no remarkable hilt or quality.

Little tendrils of wind spin the blade by its hilt before you sigh and clear your throat again.

“That’s enough, you two,” you yell over to McCleary and Sirko. “I appreciate your persistence and endurance, but a match should be over before the twenty minute-mark. Good on both of you.”

A tide of complaints and cheers arise from the sideline, and you stalk over to the first-years with a little look of disapproval on your face.

You hold up the knife so they can all see it. “Who was it?” you ask with a scowl. “They agreed on no weapons, and if you think I’ll let attempts to cheat slide, then you’re sorely mistaken. Tell me who it was and I might even let you walk out of here with all your joints intact.”

The first-years all look jolted for a moment before one is pushed to the front — Opal Keenan. She’s pretty, with flame-red hair that must reach to the small of her back when it’s not in a entirely too-complicated braid. She looks embarrassed for a moment before she schools her face into a look of pure ignorance.

“Please,” she sneers. “Anyone would have been grateful if someone picked it up and used it. Preferably Jamilian — McCleary was bound to lose anyway.”

You immediately bristle, raising your chin and fixing an icy glare on the cadet.

“Did I ask who you preferred to win?” you snap. “No, Keenan. If you wanted to see the outcome of the match, you should have considered the consequences of trying to aid a cadet in cheating. The crime you’ve just committed is easily punishable, you know. I’d hate to have to carry out the consequences myself.”

Keenan’s taunting smile widens. “A crime?” she mocks, earning a few glares and hisses from the cadets around her. “That’s rich coming from you, you traitorous bitch. I bet your father—“

Her words are cut off swiftly, and you know it’s because Bodhi has come to stand behind you, standing tall and angrily from a few steps back.

“I’m sorry,” he says sharply, pinning Keenan in place with a glare that looks too unnatural for his warm, brown eyes. “Did you not hear your Wingleader? Cheating on either side of a match is punishable by a dishonorable discharge at its lightest. You should be glad she hasn’t already gone to Emetterio to report this. In fact, I should go do that right now. You’re a shameful example of a cadet, Keenan.”

Keenan opens her mouth again, probably to jeer at you again, before she’s cut off again, this time by you.

“I don’t want to hear that shit out of your mouth again. That’s strike two for you. Test me a third time, and I’ll have no trouble letting Leadership know that you’re interfering with matches and being a downright bitchhead to your squadmates and Wingleader.”

For good measure, you allow your power to flow out of you just a little, little tendrils of air wrapping around Keenan’s throat. She startles and lets out a little choked whimper, losing all of her bravado in what feels like milliseconds. You could kill her like this, if you really wanted to — but you feel a warm hand splay on the small of your back protectively, so you lighten it up just a little. “Do I make myself clear, cadet?”

Keenan nods as quickly as she opened her mouth before you release her after a few seconds of drawing it out, just for your own benefit. She stumbles back with a gasp, her hand flying to her throat and staring at you in horror. You just meet her eyes head-on, steely and cold.

“You’re all dismissed,” you order in a low voice. “And keep this in the back of your minds. I don’t care if you think I’m a traitor or not, but if you think you can get away scot-free with cheating in a match for a reason as stupid as that, then you’re clearly not cut out for this quadrant.”

The first-years waste no time in clearing out of the sparring gym, either because of your order or because they don’t want to be the next one choked out by a Wingleader. Opal Keenan is out first, running like the cowardly little bitch she is, and everyone follows, shooting you looks of fear, surprise, and surprisingly enough, a few grins from the people who agreed that the ginger cadet needed some humbling. You sigh and scrub a hand over your face, suddenly exhausted.

The hand on the small of your back wraps around your waist, pulling you into a chest of taut muscle before Bodhi winds his other arm around you, essentially trapping you against him. His chin comes to rest on your shoulder.

“You handled that really well,” he tells you in a soft voice. “Do you deal with that every day?”

You lean back into him a little. “Not really,” you reply, fixing your eyes out the window and staring into the late-morning sky. ��Usually they know to keep their mouths shut around me. I guess someone just wanted to be bold today.”

His quiet snicker by your ear sends a rush of warmth down the skin of your neck. It dies, though, once he catches the edge of your expression.

“Hey,” he prompts. “You want me to tell Emetterio? I’m sure he’ll dish something deserving out for Keenan as soon as he hears.”

You mull over the thought for a few moments before shaking your head. “No. I’m not going to tattle on a first-year just for being a little too uppity. I can handle it.”

Bodhi’s thumb strokes the leather over your stomach idly. “You can,” he affirms. “And you did. You’re strong as hell, Levine.”

His voice lowers. “But I wouldn’t mind kicking her ass if you asked me to.”

You snort and gently jab him in the side with an elbow, only being met by a sputtered protest. “I appreciate the offer,” you assure him. “But I’m gonna let someone else do it in their own time.” You go quiet for a moment before you remember your conversation just a little bit earlier.

“Bodhi,” you grab his attention again, twisting out of his hold to stare at him. “What are you even doing here? This isn’t your squad, and it’s definitely not your wing.”

“So?” he huffs, backing up a little to give you some room. “I’m on break, and I wanted to see you.”

Oh, Amari bless his heart. Bodhi was probably the only man who would ever do such a thing for you. And the way he looks at you right now, like him hunting you down in the middle of your duties was the most obvious thing he could be doing right now, makes you almost brave enough to stand on your toes and press a grateful peck against his cheek.

You restrain yourself.

“Fair enough,” you concede, and he grins sweetly. “But it’s —“ You turn and glance back at the clock. “11:45. Don’t you have to be at land-nav by 11:50?”

His face falls immediately. “Oh, fuck.”

༘⋆༄.°⋆

The only two things keeping you awake at a time like this is your dragon’s gentle reassurances in your ear, and the fact that you haven’t seen Bodhi in approximately 27 hours. You lay in a long-sleeved slip, glaring at the moon through your window.

“You don’t have to lie to me, Zephyr,” Spéir rumbles. For once, she is less proud and more…sisterly, in a way. “I know you are worrying about the Bright One.”

“…And if I am?” you ask, your mental voice coming out more passive-aggressive than you mean to. “Am I wrong for it?”

A low chuckle ripples through the bond. “Of course not,” Spéir replies. “You are mine, Zephyr, but before I chose you, he was within your grasp and kept in the inner workings of your heart. He is your human no more than you are mine. No need to jump to his defense.”

You sigh in frustration, tearing your eyes away from the glow of the moon before you stare at the door. If you had it your way, Bodhi would be sleeping right next to you, his curls spilling down his face messily as he dreamed. But he wasn’t next to you — and you had a sneaking suspicion as to why.

As if your thoughts had caused it, a faint rapping at your door draws your attention. You flick your wrist to summon a mage light, the glow a soft lavender, before you slip out of your bed and creep towards the door.

“Is it—“

“Yes. He came straight for you.”

You rip the door open, and sure enough, Bodhi leans against the threshold, his battered body looking like he’ll fall at any moment.

He stares at you, slightly dazed, before he manages a breathy whisper.

“A thaisce. I’m sorry, but—“

You cut him off by tugging him through the door and pushing a small breeze out to shut the door quietly. You push him over to your bed, urging him to sit on your soft sheets. His knees practically fold in on themselves, making your heart ache. You feel more awake and alert now than you have since he disappeared.

“Easy,” you murmur. “Hey, mhuirnín, easy. Don’t apologize. I take it you just had RSC, huh?”

His gaze meets yours, and for the first time in a long time, he looks exactly like he did when he was a child: Nervous, disoriented, and exhausted.

“Is that what that was?” he asks hoarsely, grabbing at your hands to run his thumbs up and down your wrists. “I thought they would just…I don’t know, have us take notes about it.” He inhales sharply. “But one moment, I’m heading here, and the next, I’m tied up and hazy and our signets aren’t working and Cuir won’t talk to me—“

You hush him, coming to stand in between his legs and running a hand through his tousled hair. “It was the water,” you explain gently. “They drug you to dull the bond so it’s as realistic as possible.”

You crouch a little, forcing him to meet your eyes while you inspect his body for any intensive damage. To your surprise, he looks relatively unharmed past extensive bruising and a split lip. You bring your little tendrils of wind to a warmer temperature and cushion him as you search him. “Anything need to be looked at?”

He shakes his head wearily. “No. They went kind of easy on me. They went after Iris, though. I guess that’s because she has more of a mouth than I do.”

Your eyes narrow, but you say nothing before you do another once-over, just for peace of mind. Bodhi averts his eyes and quietly says, almost sheepishly, “If you want me to go, I can.”

Immediately, you shake your head. “Hell no,” you mutter, nudging his head up with a little breeze. “I’m not letting you leave. I’ve been waiting for you, asshole.”

His face brightens a little, the usual gleam starting to reappear after what must have been hours. “You waited for me?”

“Of course I did.” You scowl a little, nudging his thigh with your own. “I’ll always wait for you, idiot.”

His entire body seems to relax for a few moments before you poke him. “I still have some of your clothes in here. You probably don’t want to shower, but at least change into something comfortable.”

He leans into you in an odd side-hug before rising to his feet. You know he knows his way around your room, so you turn around and close your eyes to let him change without the burden of your intense stare.

“Zephyr,” your dragon prods. “Cuir would like to tell the Bright One that he is here and is sorry that he could not be there.”

“Spéir says that Cuir is sorry he couldn’t be with you,” you tell him, your eyes still squeezed shut. Bodhi looses a rough laugh, and before you know it, the mattress is dipping and he’s tugging you to lay down, now changed into a simple pair of sleep pants and a black shirt. You allow him to pull you down before you grab him in turn and ease his head on to your shoulder, your hands automatically moving to his head to run your fingers through his hair. He shudders appreciatively and wraps a weak arm around your stomach.

The two of you just lay there in the pale lavender light, enjoying the silence of each other’s company. It was unlike Bodhi to be so quiet, but after the ordeal he just went through, you can’t imagine him being lively enough to talk about anything. You resist the urge to dip your head and press your lips to his forehead, although he probably needs the affection right about now.

After what feels like hours of nothing but soft breathing, Bodhi says your name in such a tone that your eyes instantly snap to his.

He hesitates, looking equal parts pleading and embarrassed. “Can you…talk to me? In the Old Language, I mean. I-I don’t care what it’s about.”

You barely suppress an affectionate coo before you nod, smoothing your hands over his back. “Of course,” you say in Tyrrish, your tone growing a tad bit higher-pitched in your native tongue. “I’m proud of you, you know? You look barely scathed, mo laochain.”

His breath catches a little, and you feel a pang of adoration hit you in the gut as he tucks his face into your neck.

“I don’t feel very strong right now,” he admits. “I feel like I could’ve done something to help. To divert attention from the others so they wouldn’t be as hurt.”

“Hey, no,” you say firmly, rubbing his shoulders with a surprising gentleness. “I’m glad you didn’t. I don’t care if that makes me sound selfish, but I’m glad they went easiest on you. Amari knows I’d lose my cool if they did anything else.”

Bodhi stifles a laugh, and then a small groan of pain. You extend a warm cloud to rest over him and ripple over his cuts and bruises.

“Easy,” you say again. “Do not move too much. We’ll go see the healers tomorrow and see what they can do for you — probably more than I can, at least.”

The younger boy’s head rises from the crook of your neck so he can stare at you, his exhaustion apparent in his half-lidded eyes.

“None of that,” he scolds you, as if he’s not the one laying in your arms right now. “You do more for me than any of them could attest to. That’s why I came here and not there with the others.”

“Besides,” he adds, “I missed you. I don’t know how I went years without talking to you, because I think I was going insane by the fifth or sixth hour they kept us.”

For a moment, all you see is him. Not your bedroom, not the glow of your mage light or the moon, and certainly not the silhouettes of roaming dragons out your window. The only two people here, who exist in real time and space, are the both of you. You lean your head to lay against his and ghost your lips right above his ear — the closest thing to kissing him that you’ll allow yourself.

“Well, you’re here now,” you assure him. “And we can talk as much as you need. You should probably sleep, though. I need my favorite person to be somewhat alive tomorrow so that I can keep myself sane.”

Something closer to an actual laugh, a Bodhi Laugh, finally leaves him, making a smile of your own grace your lips.

“Right, Wingleader,” he says in mock-submission. “You talk so I don’t go mad, and I’ll sleep so you don’t, either. Sound like a plan?”

You flick him in the shoulder blade, but it’s not out of annoyance — more like, in your opinion, thankfulness, because you know what you need at a time like this, alone and in need of someone to lean on.

“Deal, mhuirnín.”

༘⋆༄.°⋆

The sun blazes in your eyes, nearly blinding you in the late July heat. Your head rests on Bodhi’s thigh, his fingers sifting through your hair softly as the two of you watch the sun set on Navarre.

Bodhi looks down at you and frowns, moving his hand from your head to splay it directly in your line of vision. Your eyes flit to his, and he shrugs. “It would really suck if you went blind on your birthday.”

You make a small noise of understanding and smile, curling into him a little more. “Happy birthday to me; I get an honorable discharge.”

Bodhi grins and resumes his motions in your hair, taking care to try and keep the sun out of your face. “I think you mean dishonorable,” he corrects you, “since you going blind is completely preventable if you’d just keep your eyes away from the sun.”

You scowl and shoot a lick of ice cold air down his tunic, causing him to emit a soft shriek of surprise. He glares down at you and flicks your forehead.

“Not funny,” he pouts. “Dammit, Levine, that was cold.”

You try and keep your face still, but the stoicism is short-lived as a smile of pure delight takes its hold on you.

“My bad,” you bluff, staring at him with absolutely no shame whatsoever. “I was aiming for your head.”

Bodhi’s eyes narrow, and you know instantly that he’s about to try to pin you into the grass. You roll out of the way with a yelp, but he’s always been just a tad bit faster than you, so he’s upon you in an instant, wrestling you to the ground while all you can do is hold him off of you. After a few moments of struggle, his hands clamp down on your shoulders, and you’re flat on your back before you know it. The position you’re in is unfamiliar; one hand cradles the back of your head so that it doesn’t slam into the ground, while the other holds him up over you. He’s close — closer than what you’re used to, his nose just an inch or two above yours. His eyes fall to your lips, and he swallows before murmuring, “Got you.”

Your cheeks heat up at the proximity, and you involuntarily sent another brush of wind down his back — this time, more gentle, something of a more affectionate nature that you rarely show. You force yourself to blink and ignore the fact that he’s quite literally eyeing you like he wants nothing more than to slam his mouth on to yours.

You stick your tongue out at him. “You had an advantage. I was unprepared.”

He breaks from his staring and snorts, wiggling his eyebrows at you. “Right,” he says dryly. “An advantage. You can call it that, sure.”

You scowl but don’t say anything. It feels a little awkward, seeing as he won’t move from his position above you. You don’t dislike it — not by a long shot — but what’s a girl to do when she’s pinned under her best friend (who she definitely doesn’t want to kiss. Not at all.)?

Bodhi blinks as if coming out of a trance before he clears his throat awkwardly and lets you up, leaning back to sit down. You roll up into a sitting position and lean into him. He feels a little stiffer — probably from prior awkwardness, akin to that of the same nature from when you both were tweens and he was still visibly nervous around you. He’s quiet for a second before he starts.

“So,” he says, rubbing the back of his neck sheepishly. “I know you said you didn’t want anything for your birthday...”

You go still. “You didn’t.”

He waves his hand as if to dismiss your protest. “It’s not big,” he insists, reaching into his pocket. “I know you don’t like gifts very much, and you get overwhelmed by big gestures. I just wanted to do something, since this is your twenty-third birthday.”

In Tyrrish culture, 23 was the age where you were officially considered a woman — not in the physical sense, but in the spiritual sense. It was the aois na laochra, the age of a warrior. You’d almost forgotten about it, since you’d barely taken note of your birthday since your sixteenth — the last birthday you’d been able to have with your entire family.

Your eyes soften, and you swallow the lump in your throat that threatens to make it crack before you respond. “You didn’t have to do that.”

Bodhi shoots you an easy smile. “I know,” he replies casually. “But I wanted to. I wanted to keep the tradition alive, even if you’re the only one it happens for.”

He pulls out what was hidden in his pocket — a small wooden box — and drops it into your palm. “Open it.”

Your thumb brushes against the wood — cherry, sanded and smooth — and on the initials that are carved into the top with a delicateness that’s more than impressive. You have a feeling you know who did this part, and Bodhi confirms it. “He didn’t ask for anything in return.”

You smile before taking a deep breath in and slowly opening the box, your hands a little shaky from the nerves that plague you. Your breath hitches, and you blink down at what lays inside the box: A small ring of onyx with a glittering red gem in the middle. Your fingers hesitantly touch it, and Bodhi is suddenly closer to you, rushing to explain.

“I know you don’t really like big things, so I settled for this. The band is onyx, and the gem is garnet, your birthstone.”

He pauses. “Turn it over?”

You raise an eyebrow but do it anyway, hooking your index finger into the ring and bringing it out so you can turn it to the other side.

You choke out a gasp when you see what he’s nudging you towards, tears previously left unshed brimming in your waterline.

A knight. Two twin wildcats. It’s your family’s coat of arms — the one you haven’t seen in close to ten years.

You swallow again, your voice breaking. “Bodhi—“

“Hey,” he says gently, pulling you into his lap with practiced ease. “It’s okay, I’ve got you. I just thought it’d be nice, so you could have a piece of them on you whenever you wanted.”

You couldn’t even begin to imagine where he found the time to find something like this, to put the sheer effort in accomplishing something like this.

For once, you don’t care. You just bury your head in his shoulder and allow yourself to sob quietly, shivering when his hands come up to cradle you to his chest.

“Thank you,” you whisper to him in Tyrrish. “Thank you.”

His heart twists, and he clutches you ever closer to him. “Anything for you.”

༘⋆༄.°⋆

Bodhi’s heart pounds in his ears as he runs through the halls of Riorson House, blood spilling into his mouth from just how hard he’d bitten his lip just a few minutes beforehand. He doesn’t care. He doesn’t have time — not when he’s got a very important matter to attend to.

Xaden had scared the shit out of him when he’d suddenly appeared from what felt like out of nowhere, his dark eyes huge and sparkling.

“Bodhi,” he’d breathed. “She’s here. Go to her.” It didn’t take a genius to know just who he was talking about, and Bodhi had taken off in a flash, abandoning whatever the hell he’d been doing for Jesinia in her little bookish habitat. His legs couldn’t push him faster, and he suddenly wished he could wield distance like Garrick, so he could get outside much faster than the rate he had going for him.

“Cuir,” he gasps, tugging on the string of his bond. “Is it true? Is she here?”

The dragon lets out an affirming rumble. “Yes, Gréine; Spéir and the girl are injured, but they have returned from Morraine alive.”

If it’s at all possible, Bodhi forces his legs to work harder, pump faster, to book it outside with hardly a glance behind him. He finally bursts through the front entrance and skids on the stone path, whipping his head around to look for you — his girl, his love, his light. He spots Spéir first, her massive black form standing tall next to two other dragons. One of her wings is bloody, and some of her scales have been ripped clean off, but she looks relatively fine other than that.

Then, he spots you and books it toward you, not giving damns nor shits about the three dragons that aren’t his that surround you. You’ve barely looked up once he makes it to you, throwing himself into you and pulling you protectively into his chest.

Nine months. It’s been nine months since you’ve been stationed in Morraine. Nine months of not seeing or speaking to you. He doesn’t know how he could stand it.

Your arms crush him into a hug, and your knees almost buckle from the sheer force of how you hold each other.

He holds you like it’s the last time he ever will, like every promise he’s ever made and will ever make is sealed into your skin with every fleeting second that he presses into your form. No one could take you from him if they tried — not a general’s orders, not even Malek, if he could help it.

You pull away, and he finally gets a good look at you. You’re gorgeous, as always, even with scars lining your jaw and blood covering your face. He doesn’t think he’s seen a more wonderful sight in his life. He presses his forehead to yours, searching your eyes for…Well, just about anything. He’ll take everything and anything he can get from you.

“Bodhi,” you whisper, his name falling from your lips reverently. “Gods, I don’t—“

Your eyes widen as he silences you. Not with words, though; your lips are sealed the moment he grabs your jaw and slams his mouth on to yours, effectively shutting you up. You wouldn’t have it any other way.

His lips are chapped and bloody, courtesy of how hard he bit them earlier, but the metallic tang is the last thing on your mind as he kisses you fiercely and desperately, like you’re his oasis in a desert of nothingness. His light in a vast ocean of shadow. Your lungs burn from the lack of breath, but you don’t have it in you to care, not when he’s kissing you like this.

He finally breaks away after what feels like forever and nothing and presses his forehead back to yours, wiping some of the blood on your face with a calloused finger.

“A thaisce,” he whispers in the Old Language, long-suppressed tears running down his cheeks at the mere sight of your face. “Mo leannan. Mo Shíorghrá. I am never letting you leave my side ever again. Never again. I promise.”

Tyrrendor is where Bodhi grew up, and Basgiath is where he became a man, but in your arms, with your lips locked with his? Bodhi has never felt more at home.

#the empyrean #fourth wing #iron flame #onyx storm #fourth wing imagines #bodhi durran fluff #bodhi durran #bodhi fourth wing #bodhi durran x reader #bodhi x reader #Bodhi & Freya #bodhi durran x oc

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togeppy · 2 months ago

Text

behind (un)locked doors ;

bodhi durran x tavis!reader

garrick discovers that his younger sister has been in a secret relationship with bodhi and takes his duties as a protective older brother very seriously. ✧ : slight nsfw near the beginning but I don't write smut as of rn so it's super surface level and like 3 sentences lmao

The first rule of being in a secret relationship should probably be to make sure you always lock the door behind you. Usually, this would be your priority - double checking that no one was around to watch you slip into a secret alcove, only passing stolen kisses in the quiet of an empty classroom, and locking the damned door. Only, today Bodhi looked so ridiculously beautiful as he trained his squad that your priority was elsewhere; you desperately needed to get your lips on him, and he needed to get his hands on you - beelining your way to the solitude of his room was the only thing on either of your minds.

The only issue that both of you neglected to consider was that for marked ones, an unlocked door guaranteed uninvited visitors.

An unlocked door wouldn't have been a problem if your older brother, Garrick, hadn't been looking for you to let you know that he had some spare time to give you extra training. It wouldn't have caused any issues if he hadn't run into Emery in the hallway, who told your brother that he saw you and Bodhi head into the second year's room only moments before. It wouldn't have resulted in the situation you're currently in if the two of you hadn't had such an incredibly platonic relationship over the years, that it didn't even cross the older Tavis' mind to knock, because there was no way the two of you were up to anything that he couldn't just barge into.

The problem was that all of the above did happen, and you and your boyfriend now have to pay for the consequences of your own actions.

Within moments of returning to Bodhi's room, his shirt was discarded onto the floor and you found yourself in his lap as the two of you got comfortable atop his bed. His back leans against his headboard and your mouths are locked together in a passionate kiss, as if starved for one another. Your fingers are lost in his hair, gripping his soft curls as if it will keep you from floating away from pure bliss. His hands are gripping at your ass, fingers kneading at the soft skin, indicative of pure desire.

If humanly possible, you're drawing yourself even further into his embrace when the sound of the door clicking open surprises both you and your boyfriend, instantly causing you to pull apart. You roll off of him to lie on the vacant side of the bed and bury your face in the pillow as if hiding your face will make you unrecognizable to the unwanted guest, and Bodhi makes a show of being very interested in the ceiling.

"Hey, I've got like an hour free-" the all-too-familiar voice sounds as it enters the room, but quickly goes silent. You don't even have to look back at the man standing in the doorway to know what expression he wears: jaw ticking in annoyance after having snapped shut, mouth set in an unamused line, and broad arms crossed over his chest to make himself look larger and more intimidating than he already does.

You peel your face away from the pillow hesitantly to get a look at your brother, and sure enough, you've got it down to a tee. His eyes bore into you, fury apparent on his face as he takes in the sight before him.

"Explain. Now," he growls out, finally properly entering the room and shutting the door behind him. And locking it. As you very clearly should have done.

Bodhi squeezes his eyes shut for a few seconds before reopening them and finally looking at the angry man before him, dread apparent on his face. "We were just… studying."

Garrick's expression is unwavering as his eyes move from Bodhi's swollen lips down to his bare chest, and to both of your packs laying next to his own feet, very clearly shut and untouched with all of your books inside. "Try again."

You and Bodhi glance at each other, a moment of terrified eye contact before you grimace, hoping that he won't take his anger out too severely on either of you. "So… my dear big brother who I love very much…"

The man walks closer to the edge of the bed and if even possible, levers a more terrifying gaze on both of you. "Cut the crap. Is this a hookup or is this an ongoing thing that the two of you have neglected to mention to me?"

Bodhi scratches the back of his head, clearly puzzled as to which answer will result in a lesser punishment for both of you. On one hand, claiming it's a hookup would mean you could pretend nothing has happened before today, but it would end in Garrick beating the shit out of Bodhi for trying to sleep with his little sister. On the other hand, telling him the truth might mean your brother would hopefully see that you two are serious about each other, but would cause him to get angry about not being kept in the loop… and probably still end with Garrick beating the shit out of Bodhi.

You loose a sigh and wince, knowing you'll have to face the man's wrath regardless of your response. "The second one."

Garrick stands still for a moment, his expression unreadable as his gaze darts between the two of you. For a moment there's a tense silence as both you and your boyfriend wait to see his reaction.

"Does anyone else know? Does Xaden?"

You shake your head. "No."

"And how long has this," he gestures between the two of you, and you feel yourself turn a deep shade of red, "been going on?"

"Three months." Bodhi answers, speaking with extreme caution as if any word will cause your brother to pounce on him at any given second. Both of you are walking on eggshells, waiting for the mass destruction you know is coming.

The older boy tenses, raising an eyebrow at you. "Three whole fucking months? And when exactly were you planning on mentioning this to me?"

You scratch your head, thinking of the best answer to give him. You and Bodhi had discussed when would be the best time to mention your relationship to Garrick and Xaden, but you were both scared that it would change everything. With Bodhi being one of Garrick's best friends, and the four of you essentially being as close as family growing up, you were worried that if anything went south it would tear your group apart. So, you decided to keep it a secret until you were sure that you were committed to making the relationship work.

"Soon, we swear," Bodhi starts, unsure of how to best relay your plans to your brother, given that they weren't exactly concrete, "We just… wanted to be sure that this was going to work before making it public."

"And so even after three whole months, you still weren't sure enough to tell your own brother?" Garrick retorts, voice so levelled it sends a shiver down your spine, "Don't you think that might have been indication enough?"

Before you can stop them, the words are exiting your lips faster than you can force them back in. "Well, most people usually wait until after three months to announce pregnancies. I'd say three months is pretty standard to announce big relationship news."

The regret instantly floods your whole system as soon as you finish your sentence, and Garrick responds immediately, moving to your side of the bed, ready to swipe at you for your snark. You jump over Bodhi with a yelp, and he follows you, the two of you now standing with the bed in between you and the third-year. Your boyfriend stands slightly in front of you, ready to protect you from any hits Garrick might toss your way; while you know your brother won't hurt you too bad, you've definitely roughhoused in the past and know that despite his overprotectiveness, he isn't afraid of leaving you with a couple of bruises after a fight.

"Forget she said that," Bodhi tries to recover on your behalf, shooting you a mildly annoyed look from over his shoulder, "But we are sure about the two of us. Just… you wouldn't have wanted us to casually tell you over breakfast would you? We were just waiting for the right moment."

Garrick cracks his knuckles as he stares down the man in front of him. "You think that's going to change my opinion of this all? You're one of my best friends and I trusted you to keep an eye out for my little sister. She's the only damned person I care about keeping safe in this hellhole, and despite all the trust I had in you, you went and started sleeping with her behind my back?" Your brother points an accusatory finger at Bodhi, before moving it in your direction, "And you… do you want to even talk about how shitty it is to find out like this that my only family left has been keeping a secret this major from me?"

Both you and Bodhi are stunned to silence, and you feel your heart breaking in your chest despite the fear you felt only minutes ago. You knew that it was wrong of you both to keep this from him for so long, but you were so consumed by your own fear of ruining the group dynamics and the excitement of being in a secret relationship that you barely considered how finding out that you've been keeping this a secret would impact your brother.

"Gare, I'm so sorry," you whisper, your eyes sincerely apologetic as you lock eyes with your brother whose rage-filled expression now holds traces of betrayal.

"I'm sorry for keeping this a secret, but I'm not sorry that any of this happened," Bodhi speaks up boldly, causing Garrick to snap his gaze over to the boy and narrow his eyes, confused yet still angry, "I have been keeping an eye out for your sister, and us being in a relationship hasn't changed that. If anything, it's just made me even more protective over her. If you think I'm going to let anyone hurt her when I'm around, you're out of your damn mind."

The tension between them reminds you that despite the fact that you're Garrick's sibling, Bodhi is one of his best friends - he has a long-standing relationship with your brother that makes him unafraid to challenge him when others would cower in fear. Garrick moves around the bed obviously to give Bodhi a piece of his mind, but you step between the two men, placing a firm hand on Garrick's chest to stop him from advancing.

"Hear him out for a second," you beg, your voice barely above a whisper, "Please."

The third-year levels a look on you for a second, before crossing his arms once again over his chest, eyes boring into his friend, letting him know that he's allowing him to continue speaking, though he's not happy about it.

"I love your sister, and I am so damn serious about this relationship. I don't give a flying fuck if you approve of us or not, but I will never betray the trust that you put in me to keep her safe. If it's the last thing I do, I will make sure that anyone that threatens her safety will pay."

You can't hide the shocked look on your face - you and Bodhi had only been dating for three months, so you had never said that you loved each other, but you know without a doubt that you feel the same way about him despite the words going unspoken until now.

Garrick stares at the boy for a moment, deep in thought. It's as if you can physically see the gears turning in his head as he decides how to proceed. He finally lets out a sigh, and then his gaze turns to you.

"Do you love him?"

Without hesitation, you drop your arm from where you were holding your brother back, and nod. "Yes. I do."

"And he… treats you well?" the older boy asks, gaze skeptically jumping to his friend, seeing as he's the person that knows the most about the kinds of antics your boyfriend gets up to.

"Extremely well." You nod once again, a smile gracing your lips as you look back at Bodhi for a second. "Besides, wouldn't you rather me date your best friend than another guy in the quadrant? Imagine how much different this situation would be if you had walked in on me with Aetos instead."

Garrick and Bodhi both look appalled for a moment, causing you to laugh slightly, easing some of the tension in the room. A slight smile lights up Garrick's lips, before they fall back into a straight line.

"Durran, if you ever break her heart I will break your jaw, get Nolon to mend it, and then break it again before you can recover. Got it?" he threatens, icy gaze trained back on Bodhi.

The boy nods, a smile now on his face, relief taking over both of you as the situation you had dreaded for so long has finally been dealt with. "Got it, Tavis."

Garrick stands for a moment again, surveying both of you for a minute before slowly nodding and heading for the door. He unlocks it and moves to step through the doorframe, before looking back at you for a moment again. "Just to be clear, I never want to see PDA from either of you. Keep it behind locked doors from now on."

He walks out of the room, shutting the door behind him. You and Bodhi both breathe a sigh of relief, both of you mentally exhausted from the altercation. With an exhale, you flop down on the bed, your body going limp now that the air in the room no longer feels so heavy. Your boyfriend softly smiles at the sight, before a deeper cheeky smile lights up his face. He moves across the room to where your brother stood only seconds before, and presses the lock with a light 'click.'

Your head snaps up to see him approaching you, a mischievous twinkle in his eyes as he leans over you.

"Now that that's out of the way, how about picking up where we left off?"

bonus:

At dinner the next day, you sit chatting with Imogen and Liam, advising the first-year boy on how to stay as far away from burnout as possible when dealing with Professor Carr's training. Liam lets out an exhausted sigh as he defeatedly takes a bite of the bread on his plate, and you and Imogen chuckle, knowing what he's had to endure.

Your eyes flicker up as a flurry of movement approaches your table, and your smile falls when you see your boyfriend limp over to you as he sits down, his lip busted open and caked with blood.

"What the hell happened to you?" Imogen questions, and Bodhi doesn't respond, eyes only moving to the two larger forms that come and join your group. Garrick and Xaden have matching mischievous smiles on both of their faces.

Your brother takes a bite of an apple as he sits down, his expression full of pure joy despite the bruises forming along his own jaw as he gives you a content smile. "Bodhi just needed a little ass kicking today. No biggie."

You roll your eyes, shooting the third-year an annoyed look, to which he only beams in response. "Was that really necessary?"

"Not really," he laughs, taking another bite of his food and leaning back in his seat, "But you bet I enjoyed it."

#bodhi durran x reader #bodhi durran x you #bodhi durran x oc #bodhi durran #garrick tavis #fourth wing x reader #fourth wing #iron flame x reader #iron flame #onyx storm x reader #onyx storm #togeppys

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eviesaurusrex · 4 months ago

Text

tale as old as time | X. Riorson

Xaden Riorson x Aurelia Melgren (OC)

summary: Usually, he’s the dangerous, unapproachable wingleader in public, but since a few days, Xaden Riorson can’t bare to be apart from Aurelia Melgren.

word count: 2.7k

warnings: none really, mentions of past injuries, dragons, Xaden being touch-starved after admitting his feelings, Xaden’s shadows, Tairn being Tairn, two idiots in love, childhood friends-to-lovers, not entirely proofread

author’s note: Lately, I really am all over the place with my writing for fandoms lol. This could turn into a series of oneshots if people are interested—I can also switch this up into a typical reader-insert starring YN, just let me know!

divider by @enchanthings-a

It started right after Threshing.

First, she almost didn’t heed it no mind, not even realizing a change in his daily routines. Sometimes, she felt his eyes lingering on her whenever they passed one another in the hallways of Basgiath on their way to classes or formation in the morning. Other times, she felt him walking closely next to her, the backs of their hands brushing against one another, letting sparks of electricity travel through her bones, dancing on her skin.

All of those incidents, Aurelia categorized as mere blips in reality—undoubtedly enjoying them, but knowing they would not be present for the remainder of their days at the War College.

But then, the shadows started to act up.

Rea knew how masterfully Xaden wielded his signet, being in total control of it; she had watched him train with Garrick and the others and had even gotten a taste of his skills herself. So, for them to act up all of a sudden as soon as she was near a particularly dark corner?

Highly unlikely.

The day on which she woke up with one of those shadowy, smoky tendrils almost lovingly wrapped around her wrist like a delicate bracelet? She knew something had shifted, that something was certainly different than prior to Threshing. And she started to notice more and more:

Xaden casually walking down the hallway of her dorm floor by utter coincidence when she opened her door to head out for breakfast? The way his hand almost naturally found its spot on the small of her back, resting heavily and comfortingly there until they reached the door to the dining hall, his fingers pressing softly into the fabric of her uniform before letting go?

His long-lingering glances across the tables atop the leader platform now so obvious, she had to be blind (or dead) not to notice them?

The way they sat in comfortable silence on the parapet on a particularly starry night because he knew how much she loved stargazing? Hands brushing against one another on the withered stone, one finger wrapped around the other’s? The heavy feeling of his gaze on her profile while she watched the spectacle in the dark-tinted sky in awe and wonder?

She really had to be blind not to see it.

On this particular morning, Aurelia cradled a cup of coffee between both her hands, eyes focused on the dark-haired wingleader as he ate his scrambled eggs while being in deep conversation with Garrick. Taking a revitalizing sip, she patiently waited, smiling softly as Tairn seemed to wake up and growled in her mind. “Your thoughts of the wingleader disturbed my sleep, Stormy One. Keep this up, and I might not be inclined to continue to tolerate him near me.” The Melgren rolled her eyes at that. “Oh, please. I wouldn’t wager my marital bliss because I keep on fantasizing about incinerating the rider of my mate,” she shot back with a humorous tone down their bond, still letting her smile like a fool.

It was exhilarating to be chosen by a dragon, and Aurelia was sure she would keep on grinning like an idiot until the day of her last ride.

The black dragon huffed into her mind. “First: The bond of mates is far more superior to the human concept of marriage, girl. And second: Do not dare think of your last flight—already. We have years upon years, Stormy One. Your skills are too refined to be wasted on an early death. Instead, continue to dream of the rider who is now staring at you—it’s far less insulting.” It was almost as if Tairn chuckled deeply as her eyes fell on Xaden again, watching his onyx eyes soften ever so slightly as he reveled in the attention she granted him.

A small smile danced across her lips as she took another sip of her cooling coffee, her eyes never leaving his handsome face, remembering his whispered words after Threshing when the healers had worked on her bruised and battered body, thinking she wasn’t conscious enough to recall any of it. Until the day before, she had accounted those words to the delirious state she had been in due to the blood loss, but now, with the shadows accompanying her and the expression on his face? The evidence of his shift in person toward her? Aurelia was sure she didn’t dream up his confession.

They held each other’s gazes locked until most of the cadets had left for classes and training, and only then did the woman rise and leave for Battle Brief herself, waiting for him in the hallway. Leaning against a wall, she had her arms crossed loosely in front of her black-clad chest, a smile tugging at the corners of her lips as he finally made his way out as well, spotting her instantly. Xaden walked over to her with long, purposeful strides, graceful and lethal as ever, fingers gently twitching as his stare fell from her eyes, raking over the lower part of her face.

“How are you feeling? Is the soreness bearable?”

His question was asked quietly, his voice soft and filled with a warmth barely anyone would receive within these walls, and that knowledge made the butterflies in her stomach whirl like a tornado. He had always been soft to her, ever since their first meeting as children, and he had continued to be like that until they had been separated by fate. Perhaps he still was the boy she once knew—just buried beneath everything he had to be for everyone else.

“Good. Better. It still somewhat aches when I get up too fast, but other than that…” She trailed off when his hand crept closer and touched the spot right next to her navel where she had been run through with a sword during Threshing, a scar now left behind. “But…,” she started again, making him look her directly in the eyes, a teasing smile creeping onto her lips. “I would feel much better if you’d explain this.” And with that, she pulled one of her arms out of their hold across her chest, holding up the wrist with the shadow still in place.

She watched Xaden swallow, eyes lingering on the black, translucent bracelet before he stared down at her again. A hand rose and softly wrapped itself around her fingers, pulling her hand close until it landed on his chest, right above his steadily beating heart. It pushed all the air out of her lungs; her breath hitched as she witnessed the vulnerability the fearsome wingleader showed her at this particular moment.

Xaden watched her intently as he murmured: “Do you mind it? Do they… disgust you? Bother you?” Without having to think about it, Aurelia slowly shook her head, never leaving him out of sight. “Why would you think that? I think they’re beautiful. Immaculate. Watching you wield them is like watching art,” she confessed, still slightly breathless, eyes wide with curiosity and… doubt. Did she never show him what she thought about him, about his talents and skills? Perhaps it had been drowned out by everything happening around them, and a pang of guilt settled in her chest. “Art, hm?” Blinking, Aurelia watched his smile grow, and the guilt lessened for now, making her slap his broad shoulder playfully. “Don’t tease me about my choice of words.”

The Riorson chuckled quietly before his arm wrapped around her waist and pulled her flush against his high-towering form. “So, you want an explanation?” His voice had turned into a raspy whisper, and all Aurelia could do was to nod, eyes enthralled by his gaze, her heart beating against her ribcage, trying to escape. “I wanted to make sure you’re all right, Rea, day and night, when I’m here and when I’m not. I wanted to feel close to you at all times, reminding myself every hour of the day that you’re still here, with me.” The fingers pressed against his chest gripped onto his uniform, burying themselves into the midnight black fabric, holding herself up at his steady confession. “Threshing made me realize something I have forgotten for a while: I cannot lose you. I cannot live without you, Aurelia Melgren. If you wouldn’t have made it, it’s safe to say I would have succumbed alongside you. You…” He took a steadying breath with closed eyes before he bent at his waist, coming closer and closer until their foreheads were gently pressed to one another, onyx black crashed against periwinkle blue.

“You are the keeper of all that I feel, of all that I am. One word and I will never speak of it again. One word and I will lock everything away, remaining your friend as I have always been. But…” And with that, he pulled her even closer. “But if your feelings have changed over the years and I was too stupid or blind to see it… Please, tell me and put me out of this… this… misery.” His voice broke at the last word, and it almost hurt her physically to hear his suffering she never knew about.

When has everything between them changed? Aurelia knew when it had changed for her—years ago during a sparring session with him and Garrick back in Aretia when no one had thought about needing to separate. Yes, her father never liked her association with the Riorson’s, but her mother had been from Tyrrendor and called Fen Riorson one of her oldest friends. And on that day, when Xaden had beamed at her proudly for shooting her first arrow successfully, she had known and protected that little secret of hers until… today.

Softly, almost lovingly, Aurelia let the tip of her nose rub against his, staring into his deep eyes and seeing all the emotions she had always hoped to witness on his face, swimming there, freely visible. “Perhaps stupid, perhaps blind, perhaps a bit of both,” the Melgren chuckled, making him roll his eyes at her but turning serious for this particular moment. “You were never just a friend to me, Xaden. You were never just my most trusted companion and confidant—there was always something different between us. I felt… safe with you, protected even. I could be who I was, not the one others desperately wanted me to be. I was… free. You gave me freedom.”

And freedom was the one thing Aurelia had longed for her entire life.

Xaden stared at her unmoving; he almost didn’t dare to breathe when one of her hands cupped his cheek, the pad of her thumb caressing his cheekbone.

“I have always loved you, Xaden Riorson, and I will always love you until my last dying breath as a dragon rider. If you’ll have me…—”

She couldn’t ask the question, not with his lips crashing against hers without restraint, without fear. He was as wild in his claim as he was in his fight, making her his then and there, incinerating every trace of every other man she had allowed to touch her in her life. He unraveled her in a dark corner and put her back together, infusing her with love, passion, and freedom with every move of his lips, with ever raspy sound escaping his throat when her fingers tangled themselves in his dark strands, tucking him closer and closer, until they where almost one.

With a gasp for air, Xaden parted with a heavy breath, chest heaving and heart galloping under the palm of her hand. “If I could, I would make you a Riorson on the spot,” he mumbled, lips pressing kisses to her cheeks and her swollen lips with utmost tenderness. “Slow your dragons, love,” Aurelia’s chuckled words followed. “Let us survive this death sentence of a War College first before we enter a far less superior bond they will most definitely mock.” The man started to grin at her words, pulling her close into his chest. “Did you already get that lecture, hm?” Nodding, she gently pushed back his hair, trying to make it presentable again. “Oh, I have. And I imagine there will be more coming sooner rather than later now that we…” She didn’t dare say the words, but Xaden wasn’t as hesitant—not in the slightest.

“Now that we are in a relationship, mo chroi? You can say it—the title won’t bite you.” Shoving him away, Aurelia showed him her tongue, but letting him take her hand in his, allowing him to hold onto it. “Whatever. Those dragons are menaces, and I’m afraid he will take over the fatherly talk in lack of a present father to do that. And I’m not sure what alternative I would prefer.” As if Tairn had only waited to share his input, his voice echoed through her mind. “I do not know what you dare to imply there, Stormy One, but mind you, I would only propose exceptional measures in order not to procreate ahead of your time. We have goals to accomplish, rider, battles to win, wars to end. No time for… frolicking with your shadow wielder.”

She couldn’t hold back the laugh at the growled words and let go of Xaden’s hand in order to wrap her arm around his waist, claiming her spot at his side, his arm instinctively snaking around her shoulders. “Tairn warned me not to frolic with you, shadow wielder,” she explained at his cocked eyebrow and smiled with closed eyes as he bent down to press a kiss to the crown of her head. “I will keep that in mind, but don’t you think I won’t put my hands on you, Stormy One.”

Walking beside him felt good. Freeing. Empowering. It got into her head, she thought, but it did not matter. She had rarely felt this wonderful.

“Has Sgaeyl spilled Tairn’s secret?” Xaden chuckled humorously as they walked the empty hallways toward Battle Brief. “She did—unintentionally, I think. But it is fitting. You are a tornado, a force of nature to be reckoned with. And with that dragon at your side now? With me? We will be unstoppable, love.” Teasingly, Rea nudged his hip with hers as they stopped in front of the massive double doors leading into the largest classroom Basgiath offered. “Do not over-exaggerate, Xaden darling. You sound like you have an appetite for conquering the world,” she whispered as he bent down again, lips ghosting over hers. “Oh, I have an appetite for many things, mo chroi. And I’ll show you each and every single one of them.”

Kissing Xaden, Aurelia silenced him with flushing cheeks before opening the door to slip inside the now-settling-down cadets. She intended to make her way down toward her usual seat next to her best friend, Merope. Xaden had different plans, though.

His hand snatched hers, and without uttering another word, the tall man tugged her after him, making his row scoot up a seat to create room for her next to Garrick, who watched the interaction with gleaming interest. His cheeky grin was oh so prominent, Aurelia hit his cheek with the flat side of her quill, shaking her head slowly, almost threateningly. “Don’t you dare utter a single word,” she whisper-hissed at him, cocking an eyebrow when he dared to open his mouth, watching him reconsider his next move. “I just wanted to say I told you so, but whatever.” Grinning triumphantly, Garrick winked at her, chuckling when her hand hit him multiple times on his shoulder. “You are unbelievable,” was all she huffed in slight annoyance, forcing herself to look in front, trying to ignore all the stares and the whispers at her new spot. They seemed to increase in volume when everyone bore witness to Xaden Riorson moving his hand in her direction, grabbing her thigh under the small table each seat had sat in front of it, squeezing it tenderly, and leaning in her direction.

“Forget about them, all of them. It doesn’t matter what they think, okay?” He knew her too well, but in their case, she couldn’t give a fuck. Leaning closer herself, Aurelia pressed a lingering kiss to his jawline—it was the only part of his handsome face she could reach without making a fool out of herself—and smiled with a teasing gleam in her eyes. “You won’t get rid of me that easy, Riorson,” the Melgren promised, making him hum in contentment, his hand settling heavily on her thigh—and it would stay there for the remainder of this class and every other they shared.

“I intend to keep you, Melgren. I intend to keep you for a very long time.”

Thank you all for reading! Please consider leaving a like, a comment, and a reblog. Tell me your thoughts about this fic and/or ideas for potential new fanfictions ♡

#xaden x reader #xaden riorson x reader #xaden x reader fluff #xaden riorson fluff #xaden riorson #fourth wing x reader #fourth wing fluff #fourth wing #xaden x oc #fourth wing oc #fourth wing fanfic #fourth wing fic #fourth wing fanfiction #the empyrean #fourth wing x oc #tairneanach #fourth wing tairn

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quietstormxr · 6 months ago

Text

Favorite

Summary: Xaden never knew he had a favorite.

A/N: FW spoilers, Angst/Fluff

Word Count: 2.5k

Just for fun, because it came to me. Enjoy!

He never realized how much he looked forward to your presence on the day to day. The quick small smile that you would give him in the morning. The way your laugh seemed to reverberate through the halls warming him from the inside out. So many little things and moments that he had taken for granted, hell he hadn’t even noticed them before.

Not until the morning that you didn’t show up for breakfast. He didn’t even realize he was searching for you until Garrick elbowed him in the side.

“Why the hell do you keep looking at the doors like they’ve personally offended you?” Garrick teases earning a glare from Xaden.

“I’m not. Just looking around.” He mumbles back turning his head away from the doors to the dining hall.

‘Lying this early in the morning is a new one, even for you.’ Sgaeyl can’t help but slither into the conversation earning nothing but an irritated huff from her bonded rider.

Later that day he just couldn’t shake the dread that had settled into him since he hadn’t seen you in any of your classes or battle brief. As your Wingleader, he knew that if something was wrong someone would’ve told him. He always received notes regarding any cadets that were sick or indisposed in his wing. Unfortunately, no note of any kind had been sent his way.

It went on like that for three long days. Mornings with no smile, classes with no laugh, and evenings of scanning the hall for your eyes.

On the slow trudge back to the dormitories, a movement in the corner of the rotunda caught his eye. Looking over he saw a figure, bloodied from head to toe, eyes almost swollen shut. For a moment he didn’t give it much thought, until he saw the glint of gold around your neck. In that moment, his heart rate spiked as recognition ran through him. You were the only rider that wore a necklace like that, and then he realized there was no mistaking that hair.

Without registering what his feet were doing, he found himself moving towards you at a speed that surprised even himself. In a few quick strides he was standing in front of you as you went to limp a few additional steps forward.

“What happened?” He breathed, unsure of if he should touch you or not.

You shook your head back at Xaden, your already swollen eyes beginning to water with the obvious pain radiating from every inch of your body.

“Can I take you to the healers?” He rushes out, feeling helpless watching you suffering.

You give him a slight nod and before you can bring your head all the way up, Xaden hoists you up and begins to carry you. A sharp hiss finds it way out of your lips as the pressure of your wounds is aggravated by his calloused hands. He looks down at your face and you don’t miss the apology reflected in the golden flecks of his eyes.

Xaden walks swiftly and with purpose striding faster than normal to get you to the healers. Inside though, he is a tumult of emotion between rage and fear. What the hell happened to you? You weren’t a second year so this wasn’t an RSC exercise.

‘Does Cikeniss know what happened?’ He questions Sgaeyl not wanting to wait for you to give him the answer.

‘No, Cikeniss only confirms that she was somehow cut off.’ Sgaeyl relays with a hint of anger coating her reply.

‘Cut off? How could she be cut off from her bond?’ Xaden questions trying to get more information.

‘It is apparently something new your leadership is trying out. They have yet to give the antidote. Cikeniss confirms she can’t reach her rider.’ Sgaeyl confirms as he feels the anger at the possibility radiating from his sapphire bond.

Snapping out of his conversation with Sgaeyl, he looks down at you and feels his arms tighten involuntarily. You were cut off from your dragon and something could’ve happened. The thought that no one knew where you were and now that your dragon didn’t even have access to you solidifying the fear he’s been feeling.

In the next few strides, he’s entering the healer’s quadrant. As he walks into the facility, there are people rushing about, but no one has seemed to taken notice of the two of you. He walks further into the room and still no one notices.

Patience wearing thin, he snaps. “Is someone going to look after her or do I need to bandage her myself?”

Immediately two healers lead the way to a room as you look up to your commanding Wingleader. Gently lowering you onto the bed, his breath catches when even in pain you give him one of your warm smiles. The anxiety over the last few days seeming to lessen slightly, thought looking at your broken and bruised body it lingers.

The healers gather over your frame that is gently laid on the white sheets of the bed. The stark relief between the mix of the blood and grime that is sliding from your skin and leathers to the sheets has Xaden tensing more and more each second. How much had your body been broken and bruised for three whole days? What the reason that it even happened in the first place?

He tries to turn over what could have possibly happened before his thoughts are interrupted by a small hand on his shoulder. Looking up, he is greeted with the serious face of a healer.

“She will need to be sedated in order for us to work on her fully. You are welcome to stay, but if so, you’ll have to wait in the hall.” The healer relays.

Xaden can’t imagine possibly leaving you after seeing you so broken and bruised. And that is why he finds himself pacing the hallway of the healer’s quadrant with a dagger absentmindedly flipping over and over in his hand, thoughts still consumed with the possibilities of why this happed.

He doesn’t know how long it’s been, but the pacing is doing little to calm the raging storm in his thoughts.

‘Can Cikeniss reach her?’ He questions Sgaeyl wanting to at least know that you’re still holding on.

‘No.’ Sgaeyl confirms with no sugar coating her tone.

Just hearing Sgaeyl confirm you are still cut off causes his chest to tighten further. It seems the gods finally are willing to have a little mercy on him as in the next pass of his pacing one of the healers finally comes out of the room.

“We’ve treated everything we can. Nolon has been in to make sure to help with any major issues and she’s cleared to go back to her room. She’s going to have lingering bruising and soreness, but overall, she should be cleared for getting back to class.” The healer confirms.

As Xaden stands there listening, the last thing he can possibly imagine is letting you go back to classes with how he just saw you.

“May I go in and be with her now?” Xaden asks hopefully, dreading being told no and to get back to class.

“Of course. She may still be a little drowsy, but she should be waking up soon.” The healer tells him, gesturing towards the room your in.

‘Cikeniss confirms their bond has been restored.’ Sgaeyl startles him as he begins to step towards your door.

‘Did Cikeniss confirm anything else?’ He asks needing to know what exactly happened to you for his own sanity.

‘She did, but you will have to ask if you want that information.’ Xaden can’t help but feel disappointment and agitation that Sgaeyl won’t tell him what you went through.

‘It’s not as easy as just telling you. The reasons for her laying in that bed is not idol gossip that should be spread.’ Sgaeyl responds tersely, almost as if she is upset on your behalf for everything you endured.

Xaden can’t help the furrow overtaking his brow as he enters the room. As he lays eyes on your form, he can’t help but take stock of all the bruises that are littered across your arms, torso, and legs. The small shake of his head is impossible to stop as he realizes there may not be one patch of skin that doesn’t have a lingering purple tint.

As soon as he reaches the side of the bed, he can see how your breathing is beginning to change indicating that you are waking up. He doesn’t realize he’s holding his breath until he finally watches your eyelids begin to flutter. As soon as he sees your eyes open fully, the breath fully releases from his lungs as he brings his hand to hold yours. The constriction that settled around his entire chest completely breaks when you give him a small smile, disarming him completely in a way he never realized before.

“If anyone saw, they might think you have a favorite dear Wingleader.” His hand tightens on your own at hearing you speak after four days of not seeing you, thought he can’t stop the glare he gives you at your comment.

“Well, they can fuck right off.” He responds back immediately in a tone harder than he meant to give you. “Besides, they wouldn’t be wrong, I do play favorites.”

He watches as your eyes flash going slightly wider than before, showing the way the words register in your mind. The smile that breaks onto his face at your reaction is one he knows he hasn’t had in a while, a happy, yet teasing lilt to his lips.

“What exactly is that supposed to imply?” You ask him as he hears your breath seem to catch in your throat. Slowly Xaden brings himself to stand flush next to the bed you’re still laying in.

“I think you know exactly what I’m implying.” Ever the confident man, Xaden can’t help but tease you a little at your question. He watches as the annoyed look is now firmly planted on your face due to his ever-elusive responses.

“Please enlighten me, dear Wingleader Riorson. Besides, how am I going to compete with your bonded first year who has made her obvious attractions for you widely known.” Now it’s Xaden’s turn for shock to plaster across his face, its almost as if he’d forgotten how you could give as good as he could.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” He says hoping that he can escape the daunting topic that is Violet Sorrengail.

The knowing look that you give him does the exact opposite than reassure him. Xaden knew he couldn’t deny Violet’s penchant for looking at him as if he was the hottest man alive. Hell, he knew he even had stoked her attraction on several occasions, making a saddle, sparring with her constantly, and crafting daggers for her. The worst mistake of all was kissing her and thinking of it he can’t help but shake his head with regret.

For the first time, he’s unsure how to proceed. Four days ago, he didn’t even realize he had feelings for you and now he’s trying to convince you. The bravado he had just moments ago seemed to have completely vanished, just like shadows in the noon day sun.

“Her infatuation is just that. Infatuation.” Xaden says firmly, although he’s unsure if he can even convince himself of that.

The raise of your brow shows him that you know that he’s trying to convince the both of you.

“Regardless.” Xaden can’t help saying with finality. “That may be her feelings, and I’m sorry if I hurt her, but I don’t return the sentiment.”

Xaden can feel his heart picking up speed in his chest as he waits for you to say something in return.

Anything.

The moments seem to tick by; a never-ending echo of the clock in the background the only thing that dares to break the silence. Xaden watches as your eyes seem to bore through him as if seeing through every mask he’s ever worn, every secret he’s ever told.

Without saying anything he watches as you rise on your elbows and move to swing your feet to the side of the bed. Your continued silence doing nothing to help the gnawing at his gut that you’re lost to him before he ever even had a chance with you.

Xaden immediately is at your side grasping your waist after you let out a hiss at trying to stand up from the bed.

“Thank you.” You whisper through clenched teeth. Xaden knows that he shouldn’t be waiting on your response, but it feels to him as if everything is still suspended in mid-air waiting for your confirmation or denial.

As Xaden feels himself beginning to brood, trying to keep the despair that you don’t care for him, he completely misses the way that you begin to turn yourself in his arms.

It isn’t until both of your arms snake around his waist and you bury your head in the crook of his neck that he realizes he may be spiraling for no reason.

‘Do calm down your emotions, your thoughts are more erratic than when we are in battle.’ Sgaeyl claps at him breaking his spiraling thoughts completely.

“If you’re going to play favorites, I’m going to need you to make your claim clear.” Xaden looks down at you as you bring your face up to look him in the eyes.

Xaden brings his hand up to your jaw, cupping your cheek and tilting your head so he can see the gleam in your beautiful eyes.

“Oh Love, don’t you worry about that. I intend to make sure that everyone in the quadrant knows you’re my favorite.” Xaden teases while bringing his nose to rest on yours, all the while memorizing every fleck in your eyes.

The answering smirk on your lips is all the confirmation he needs before he brushes his lips against yours, tentatively at first. The way you immediately respond and arch into his touch makes his eyes flash and a groan leave his lips. Xaden can’t believe the way your kiss is searing into his skin, the feeling of you drowning him like no one ever had before.

He immediately deepens the kiss grabbing you firmly at the nape of your neck drawing your face even closer. Your answering moan causing his blood to heat and desire to begin coiling around his entire frame. Breaking the kiss, he leans his forehead against yours trying to calm his breathing.

“Well then.” You say to him, your breathing still a little rapid. “I guess it’s time for you to show everyone who your real favorite is.”

Xaden gives you a knowing smile before grasping your hand and wrapping his arm around your waist, leading you back to the riders quadrant. There is no doubt in his mind that you are just like chocolate cake – one of his favorite things he’ll never tire of.

Divider: @firefly-graphics

#fourth wing fanfic #fourth wing x reader #xaden riorson #xaden riorson x reader #fourth wing xaden #the empyrean #xaden fanfic #xaden x reader #garrick tavis #xaden pov #x reader #the empyrean fanfic #garrick fourth wing #fourth wing fic #fourth wing #iron flame #iron flame fanfic #xaden x oc

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scorpioriesling · 20 days ago

Text

Hate Loving you

･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* ✧･ﾟ: *

Pairing(s): Xaden x reader

Warning(s): smut, mdni, 18+, nsfw, light angst, fluff

Summary: Your usual routine with your sworn enemy becomes a little more complicated as time passes... especially when an arranged marriage is on the table.

SR’s Note: Um... enemies to lovers? We love it? @sheblogs had a great idea for a part 2 to this story, so here it is! I'd reccomend reading part 1 first, so you're all caught up. Hugs and kisses! xo

Tags: @mellowmusings @rcarbo1 @lilah-asteria @bookofriverr @kitsunetori @velarisdusk @nctsawrus @lreadsstuff @paintedbyshadows @freakishfandomfiend @littleemissperfecttt @loveofmychips @bodhidurrans (inbox me or comment if you'd like to be added!)

･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* ✧･ﾟ: *

Love Hating You

Basgiath was colder than you'd imagined; so cold infact, your warm breaths could be seen before you, small wisps of steam against the bitter winter air.

You followed closely behind the king, taking two steps to keep up with his one. The group was silent, walking in uniform formation -- so silent that you were sure the others would hear the racing of your heart, if you were not careful.

"Halt!" King Tecarus raised a hand. Everyone immediately stopped, waiting for the next direction. The King turned, signaling for the few soldiers to enter first.

"I want the trained to enter with me," he announced, then motioned to the other half of the group. "The rest of my counsel will meet with the principal, as well as a few trusted advisors to discuss our trade agreement."

Everyone nods and begins on their way. You look to the King, quickly approaching him before he can turn to walk away.

"And for me, Sir?" You asked. He turned sharply, his familiar frown greeting you in answer.

"You're headed down to the artillery room," he says matter-of-factly. "Isn't that why you demanded to come?"

You nodded, trying your best to convince him and yourself of your role here.

"Absolutely sir," you said, nodding in salute. He relaxed a little, giving you a pat on the shoulder.

"There's a reason I allowed you to come, and not Catriona." He said softly. Your throat bobbed, registering the implication. You'll get the job done, he seemed to say. My neice wouldn't.

With that, you assured him you'd see to it that all of the weapons were delivered, and went on your way.

✧･ﾟ: *

The artillery room was packed when you got there. Men scrambled from box to box, unloading empty wooden crates and piling machienery onto the backs of Cordyn's armored trucks. You looked from box to box, ensuring all weapons were delivered in full. Once verified, the trucks departed, making their way back to Krovla.

Your brow furrowed as you approached the last truck. You seached the boxes, realizing a few weapons were missing. Groaning, you turned to the attendant nearest you -- a dark haired male with tanned skin. You nearly did a double-take; the striking resemblance between him and Xaden was...

"Hey!" You called, approaching him quickly. He turned to look up at you, pausing his current unboxing task and placing his hands on his hips. His cheeks were flushed red, likely from the bitter cold. He sniffled before answering you.

"Can I help you?" He said. You gestured to the last remaining truck, brows raising in question.

"Uh, yeah," you said matter-of-factly. "The last truck. We're supposed to have three boxes of long blades -- there's only one in there."

He looked plainly at you, his eyes cataloging every one of your features. Your brows narrowed, and you opened your mouth to demand an explaination but he beat you to it.

"I was told that truck was to recieve only one box," he explained calmly. You laughed humorlessly, folding your arms across your chest.

"Yeah, that makes sense -- we can supply an entire army with just one box," you said. The male shrugged, shaking his head.

"I just do what I'm told."

"Yeah?" You asked, steppikng closer. "And, who exactly is telling you, huh? Becaused my orders come directly from the King, and he specifically said-"

"Y/N," he said, his eyes widening. "You're Y/N... aren't you."

You paused your rampage, your brows knitting.

"Yeah, and?"

The male laughed, dropping his head as he rubbed the bridge of his nose. When he looked up at you again, there was pure delight in his eyes.

"I've been told a whole lot about you," he said slowly, grinning like a child on Christmas. "You're the girl he's so crazy about." You started to get angry, wondering who the Hell was walking around this place talking about you of all people.

"Oh really? And, may I ask what exactly you've heard?"

He shrugged. "Good and bad. Mostly good, I guess, though my cousin's judgement is sometimes questionable-"

In that moment you lunged for him, grabbing him by the shirt collar and bringing his face inches before yours. His eyes flew wide in surprise.

"Ow! Hey-"

"Who. Is. This, Cousin?" You asked lowly. The brunette simply gulped, and you fisted his shirt tighter. "WHO?"

"Okay! Okay," he relented, holding his hands up in surrender. "His name is Xaden -- you know him? Xaden Riorson?"

Your blood ran cold, and in that instant you dropped the kid. No wonder they looked so much alike -- they were related.

You should've known. Should've known you'd run into something like this.

Behind you, the truck's engine revved, preparing for departure. Surely, the King would reem you for not getting all the supplies negotiated for -- but now, you knew who was responsible for it.

You stormed out of the area, pushing past anyone who got in your way. Most of the males in the room gave you odd looks as you thundered past -- you didn't care. There was only one objective, one male on your mind.

And Gods help him if he didn't know you had arrived. Soon, youd ensure he would.

✧･ﾟ: *

You'd stormed through the doors of the main building, ignoring the students walking from one class to the next. If Xaden was here, you'd be sure to find him -- it was only a matter of time.

Walking the halls, you passed door after door, inspecting the nameplates as you went; Duvera, Kaori, Emmetario. Scoffing, you continued on, as surely he wouldn't be in a professor's office as a student himself.

It took damn near a half an hour until the halls had cleared, and the silence stretched. You were grateful for it, as you could make out which rooms were in use and which ones weren't. It was warmer inside the building, that you were also grateful for -- that was, until you approached an unmarked door. The voices inside talked in heated discussion, and you slowed your steps.

Approaching slowly, you inched toward the cracked open doorway, recognizing a few of the voices inside.

"This would be a fruitful allegiance, both for Cordyn and Navarre." That one was definately King Tecarus'.

"Fruitful, yes -- but would it even make sense?" This one, you'd also heard before. It sounded an awful lot like one of the Tyrrish court members that visited alongside Xaden when he came to Cordyn.

You leaned in, straining your hearing as the argument ensued.

"Who cares about sense," a woman's voice sounded. "Think of what's best for the school!"

"I'm not being married off despite my own wishes for a damn school, General."

That one, was unmistakenly Xaden's. Your brows narrowed as you took in what he was saying, realizing your artillery dispute may have to wait.

"But just think of the opportunity it'd bring you -- it'd bring to Tyrrendor too!" The King exclaimed. A few others commented as well, their reactions all mixed.

"You should be grateful the King is willing to strike an alliance with you," the General chastized. "You were born a rebel, after all. This at least would do youe father some justice."

There was a scuffle, and you jumped as Xaden's shouting echoed through the hallway.

"DON'T YOU SAY A WORD ABOUT MY FATHER!" He exclaimed. You cupped a hand over your mouth, realizing the general he was speaking to was in fact General Sorrengail. If you were remembering the words in your history book correctly -- she didn't take kindly to members of the rebellion.

"Xaden! Please!" Another male pleaded. "Let's keep this civil."

You heard his sigh, and dared to peek around the corner. You couldn't see much through the small crack, but you did see movement in the room.

"The best way of doing that is marrying my niece," King Tecarus interjected. "She's a wonderful girl, really. She'll make a great ruler. All you'd have to do is-"

"I'm not doing that," Xaden replied, his tone lethal. "I won't be marrying anyone, unless it's for the sake of love."

Your blood ran cold. Marriage? To Catriona?

All the thoughts inside your head began to swim. Was the King serious? They weren't even dating -- sure, your friend had hinted at her interest in the Tyrrish male, but they didn't even know one another! How did the King expect marriage from him? And for what, the sake of uniting the two provinces?

You realized you were breathing harder, heavier. This couldn't be happening. Xaden could not be engaged to Cat. After all that had happened between the two of you...

The door flew open in an instant, and you jumped back so fast you stumbled and fell on your ass. Lo and behold, Xaden burst through the door, shadows leaping and dancing as he strode out. He noticed you instantly, watching as he scrambled to your feet. The rage in his eyes flared as he registered your face, instantly gripping your arm and yanking you to your feet.

"What. The fuck. Are you doing here." He said, more as a demand than a question. You glared at him, attempting and failing to wrench your arm free.

"Actually, I came here to berate you for giving your cousin such a rediculous order reguarding our weapons supply -- but now, I suppose I'm here to merely congradulate you." Your tone was icy, amused even -- but Xaden bought none of it.

The golden flecks in those eyes intensified as he stared down at you, both confused and still angry.

"What the Hell are you talking about?"

Behind him, an unknown male peeked through the doorway, cupping his hands around his mouth as he called out.

"Xaden, please come back. We have more to discuss!"

Xaden didn't even glance at him as he gripped your arm tighter, tugging you along with him as he strode down the hallway and opened the doors to the rear stairwell.

"Bad idea coming here," he growled, yanking you along with him as he took two steps at a time. You tripped, working to keep up but also trying to deny everything you'd just heard.

"Really, bad, fucking, idea."

✧･ﾟ: *

"Tell me again why the fuck you're here," Xaden demanded, pushing you through the doorway and slamming it behind him.

You scoffed. "What, is it so hard for you to believe the King brought me to ensure weapons delivery?" Xaden loosed a harsh breath through his nose, striding across the room in the direction of his desk. "You think that, what, because I'm a girl, I can't handle it?"

Xaden barked out a laugh, pressing his palms into the wooden top of his workspace.

"I don't doubt it for a minute, actually -- you're really good at arguing," he said, though it came off more as a backhanded compliment.

"So why only give us one box of-"

"That's not why you're really here," he insisted, cutting you off as he stood straight again. "You came here for something else, and I want to know what it is."

You huffed, looking anywhere but him. FInally able to take in your surroundings, you realized you were in a dorm room. His, for that matter. The black silken sheet bed, the reports in a neat pile on his bedside table... this was surely his room.

Turning to him again, you were forced to consider what you'd known all along. You couldn't believe how easy it was for him to figure out, how he could see right through you -- but with him, it seemed he would be able to read you like a book on any given day.

"I ... I'm not sure what I thought would happen. Me coming here, I mean." You admitted quietly. He took a step toward you, his dark presence intimidating had you not known him so well. You stared up at him for a moment, before facing the sad truth that was now becoming your reality.

"It doesn't really matter though why I came -- it's clear that in nine months, you'll be married. To my best friend."

The silence that followed was capapble of swallowing you whole. Xaden didn't move, he just stood there, brooding as you stared at the floor. Neither of you knew what to say, how to put the words you wanted into sentences to be said out loud.

He broke it finally, his voice quiet when he spoke.

"I'm not marrying Catriona." He said. You hated the way the tears came, so fast and threatening you started blinking rapidly to keep them at bay. Your breath caught in your throat when your hand was taken in his, your gaze following as he lifted it and placed it on his chest. Beneath your fingertips, you felt his heart, beating so fast it would win a race had it been in one.

"It sounds like the most logical option to me," you countered, still trying to make sense of it yourself. "She's in line for the throne, Xaden. She's royal by blood and-"

"And I said. I'm not. Marrying. Her." He said, voice clipped. You stared up into his eyes, trying to read the answers hidden in them.

"But why?" You whispered, your voice breaking. He tilted his chin down then, inching his face toward yours. You swallowed hard, trying to save yourself from the impending heartbreak you were sure was to come.

"I'm not in love with her," he whispered, his lips a featherlight touch against yours. Your skin ignited in every place the two of you touched, set ablaze by the flame burning between the two of you. Every night you'd gone to bed in denial, every heartache you swore wasn't tied to his absence... you couldn't deny it any longer. For every insult, every eye-roll, every harsh word you threw at him -- you wanted him. Needed his presence, craved his attention. And for all that mattered, you knew a marriage between him and your best friend would absolutely shatter you.

You leaned in right then, pressing your lips to his. The touch was light and warm -- not as desperate and hungry as the last time. Reguardless, this was only the second time you'd kissed; and you'd be damned not to make it last.

Parting your lips, you silently asked for more -- more of him, more of this. These were the moments you could never rid yourself of, the moments you hated to love sharing with him. He obliged, his lips parting as he kissed you back. His hands found your waist, sliding around your hips and settling on your lower back. You reached both hands up, tangling your fingers in the onyx strands near the base of his neck as you lost yourself in him. In his touch, in his taste, his smoke and shadow scent -- you craved it all.

"This, is a, bad idea" you said between kisses. He tugged you closer in response, clutching you to him as though he'd crumble without you. He breathed deeply before answering, only pulling back an inch before kissing you again.

"You're full of bad ideas," he whispered, and you genuinely smiled. Your heart leaped as he cupped both hands under your ass, lifing you with ease. You giggled, for once not scolding yourself for the sound, and sighed as he laid you gently on his bed. You stared up at him, his eyes round with emotion.

"I don't think I've ever appreciated how beautiful you are," he said softly. The tears that had sat on your waterline threatened to spill over, ecpecially as he continued to admire you from above. "You're the most exquisite thing I think I've ever seen."

A single tear slipped free, and he was quick to catch it. You sniffled as you looked up at him, a small, sad smile on his face.

"Xaden Riorson... don't tell me you're going soft now," you teased, though emotion coated every word you spoke. A small smile tilted his lips as his fingers worked, undoing your pants and tugging them down. He unlaced your boots, then pulled off your socks... underwear next. You helped by removing your sweater and bra, and when he was finally undressed before you -- you realized you'd never felt so bare in front of him.

His gaze roamed over your body as he stood between your knees, his eyes softer than you'd ever seen. As he leaned in, a single kiss was placed to your lips -- one that lingered, one given as a reminder.

You tensed as he positioned himself at your entrance, not engaging in any wild foreplay or torture as the two of you usually did. This time, his actions were slow, meaningful.

"I'd only ever be soft towards you," he promised, sliding his cock inside of you. You gasped, the awaited feeling bringing you instant pleasure after being denied it for so long. "Though, you get me pretty damn hard, I'll tell you that."

You lauguhed, loud and bellious as he smiled down at you, joining in on your chuckling. It warmed your heart to see him smile, really smile like this -- even if it was while being buried inside of you.

He breathed slow as he thrust in and out of you, his pace more restrained than you'd ever experienced. His eyes never left yours, watching and studying your face as though this was the last time he'd see it. Your hands gripped his shoulders, holding on for support as his braced your hip and tangled in your hair.

"I... I love you," he said quietly. Your cheeks flushed, not quite believing what you just heard. His gaze turned worried when you said nothing, and though he brought you immense pleasure, you eventually found your words.

"I love you, Xaden Riorson," you whispered, leaning up to engage him in a passionate kiss. You pulled back, still leaning up to speak directly against his lips.

"I think I've always loved you. I don't know," your breath caught as the tears came again. "I don't know how I'd ever be able to stop."

He sighed as his forehead pressed against yours, drawing in every soft moan you let out as he continued making love to you. It wasn't until you opened your eyes again that you noticed the wetness on his lower lashes, too. You reached up a shaking hand, placing it on his cheek as you wiped away at his sorrow.

He opened his eyes, looking at you once more.

"I still have to convince myself you're real," he said, the hand he had tangled in your hair moving to touch your cheek as well. "You're probably the best thing that's ever happened to me, and I was too stupid to do anything about it."

You gasped as he rubbed against your sweet spot, one he's known and got used to over the last few years. You smiled softly, placing both hands on his shoulders once more.

"You are stupid," you joked, giggling at the way he frowned at you. You leaned in again, softly kissing at his jaw. "But you're mine."

He grunted, his grip on your waist tightening. He thrusted harder into you, drawing out your pleasure until the last possible second before sending you tumbling over the edge. He followed right behind you, gasping as he released himself within you. The two of you stayed there, one on top of the other for a while, just looking into the other's eyes. It wasn't for a while until he pulled himself out of you, opting to lay beside you and tuck you into his chest instead. You had nearly drifted off, his warmth wrapped around you reminding you how tired you'd grown afte the day's events. He kissed your forehead, over and over as the two of you fell asleep there, a quiet comfort amidst your world's constant chaos.

✧･ﾟ: *

#fourth wing xaden #xaden riorson #xaden riorson x y/n #xaden riorson x oc #xaden riorson x reader #iron flame imagine #iron flame #onyx storm #fourth wing smut #fourth wing #fourth wing x reader #the empyrean series #fourth wing x you #the empyrean #read more

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maybemaleksentmeasakindness · 9 months ago

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Whittling

Summary - You and Liam have an arrangement of sorts. You patch him up and he makes sure you sleep. It's fine, right? Just two pals, helping each out.

A/N - There is cursing (this is your warning). As always, these characters and places don't belong to me. This is me making up for the lack of Liam Mairi fics in the world. 2k words.

Your POV

A soft light filtered through the curtains of your room. You had watched it since the moment you’d woken up, moving across the shelf where Liam’s carving sat and toward where your toes were tucked away at the edge of the bed. You had been up for a few hours and might’ve gotten out of bed if there wasn’t a beautiful blonde man lying in your bed beside you. Instead, you settled with sitting up against the headboard.

When you’d woken up Liam was dead asleep, one arm slung half-heartedly over your middle with not much space between your bodies, considering the bed was technically only made for one person. You pondered if whoever designed the rooms considered how much time some people spent in their peer’s bed, and if they perhaps did this to try and curb that habit. You chuckled quietly, considering how Liam might simply take it upon himself to take his skills with wood and a few tools to the next level and make a larger bed frame so you both could be comfortable. But that would mean admitting that you aren’t just extra good at healing his wounds, and he wasn’t extra good at noticing your exhaustion. That he just showed up at your room at night to clean him up. That he knew you weren’t getting sleep and insisted on staying the night. Just two peers, two friends, caring for each other because a larger bed frame made feelings real. Too real.

A soft snore pulled you from your thoughts as you tugged Liam’s still sleeping form against your body, letting your fingers trace the rebellion relic around his wrist. A low groan left Liam, barely aware of the touch. Your finger traced up the mark, over his arm. It didn’t feel fair to make children suffer for their parents' choices. Liam shifted slightly, but you didn’t stop, fingers tracing higher. Liam tucked himself closer to you with another groan. Your body shook slightly with laughter.

“Good morning, Mr. Mairi,” you teased.

“You should be sleeping right now,” Liam mumbled back, eyes still closed. “And don’t call me that.”

“Couldn’t sleep.” Not that you could sleep much these days. Just because you had a decent chance with a dragon and blade didn’t mean you were free of the terrors that came with it.

Liam responded by tugging you down beside him, pressing a kiss to your hairline.

A tension you didn’t know you were holding in your body seemed to ease up slightly in response before you tucked yourself closer to him, tangling your legs under the sheets. The skin of your face tingled as you felt Liam’s breath fan over it. It was warm and inviting, while giving an odd sensation. A pause, Liam’s eyes still hadn’t opened. “We could get an early breakfast,” you suggested, cutting through the silence.

“I told you I was going to help you get more sleep, and that’s what I’m doing.” Liam responded. He opened his eyes for a moment, examining you carefully.

You smiled before placing yourself closer to Liam. You wanted to say something, to fill the pause. It’s not that you completely disliked the silence but it was more time to run around in circles and for you to do something stupid like kiss him. Ask him what exactly all of this was. “Liam?”

“Mmm?” Liam hummed out in response, eyes still closed, both arms around your middle.

You chuckled slightly realizing you had nothing more to say. “I don’t know. I guess I just wanted to say your name.”

“Sleep,” was Liam’s only response.

It wasn’t that easy, but you would try. If not for yourself, for him. Liam was aware of the whittling he was doing with his carvings, just not the whittling he was doing to your heart. Carving out a Liam-spaced home.

Liam’s POV

Liam often wondered if there was ever a day he didn’t need something patched up if he would still show up at your door, if you would even let him in. But they were Riders in training, there would always be something to patch up. That always seemed to occupy Liam’s mind. Walking to your room at night. Sitting as you patched him up. Falling asleep next to you. Waking up next to you.

It was nearly his first thought when he woke up as you pulled him tighter against you. He groaned slightly, not feeling ready to be up, and wanting you to be asleep. Liam, too tired to actually say anything, decided just to let out a low groan. A graon meant to represent the earliness and his displeasure with you being awake. Liam felt your fingers glide up from his wrist, up his arm in intricate patterns. For just a moment he thought you were drawing a picture when he realized it wasn’t any sort of free form. You were tracing his rebellion relic again. He wondered for a few moments what it would be like to wake up in his own bed, no fingers tracing up the marking on his skin. Liam had grown so accustomed to waking up beside you. He just needed an excuse to come call on your meticulous healing skills every night. What would happen if one day he made it out without some injury to be taken care of? What then? Would he still be invited into your room, your bed? The first night you’d ever spent sharing a bed was the best night of sleep in Liam’s life.

Liam groaned at the thought of losing this opportunity to share a bed with you, preferring your warmth. He curled his body against your’s slightly, as if doing that wouldn’t let you escape, or perhaps his warmth would convince you back to sleep—–which would let him fall back asleep.

“Good morning, Mr. Mairi,” you said, a clear teasing in your voice. He hated when you called him that, like he was your superior. “And don’t call me that.”

“Couldn’t sleep,” he heard you respond.

Liam let out a faint grunt before selecting that asking you nicely was going to get you to try and sleep. He pulled you down so you weren’t sitting up anymore, his body pressed to yours. Liam gently pressed his lips just under your hairline, half expecting you to complain that you didn’t need sleep and you weren’t a baby, but it didn’t come. Instead a soft silence. Liam could feel you curl up against him, tangling your legs underneath the sheets. And for a split second Liam wondered what it might be like to fall asleep, legs tangled every night with you, no need for your healing skills beforehand. Just two people needing each other to sleep. Some part of that was scary, that he had to admit that he needed you as much as you needed him. That he needed you more than just for the night, he needed you all the time––alive and kicking ass.

Your voice came echoing through Liam’s thoughts. “We could get an early breakfast.”

Liam would’ve shaken his head if you both weren’t tucked together perfectly like two puzzle pieces that would fall apart if one of them moved. “I told you I was going to help you get more sleep, and that’s what I’m doing,” he said with a huff. From a sliver of vision he could see you looking wide awake, but it was clear you needed to rest longer. He felt some relief as you smiled and managed to wiggle ever closer against him.

If there was even an ounce of alcohol in his system Liam might’ve just kissed you right then and there, but something was stopping him. What if one day you didn’t need this? What if one day Liam would be turned away after you’d patched him up? What then? What if these feelings he felt for you weren’t mutual?

“Liam?” There was your stupid, beautiful voice again, pulling him from his thoughts.

He screwed his eyes shut, knowing if he opened them he’d just stare straight at those gorgeous lips of yours. Liam needed you to both shut up and get out of his sight and to always be talking, always be in his line of sight. You were maddening. Stupidly so. Liam restrained a groan before letting out a soft, hum. He was convinced if he tried to do anything more a long trail of words would escape his mouth before it was too late.

“I don’t know. I guess I just wanted to say your name.”

LIam chose to quickly mumble out, “sleep.” He paused a moment before cracking one eye open to see you had closed yours. His gaze fell to a few of the carvings he had mde for you a while ago. All of them scattered around your room. Your dragon, a small bunny placed beside each other. Liam felt you shift slightly, face tucking into his neck. His fingers tensed against your back for a split second before relaxing. He could do this. He just needed to clear his head.

“Liam?”

He looked at you before he realized he was gripping your back tighter than he meant. His eyes followed your face as you lifted your head slightly. “Oh, sorry.”

You only shook your head slightly.

Liam scanned your eyes then your lips. Your stupid, perfect, gorgeous lips. Liam swore your face got a few inches closer to his. Shit.

Suddenly a knock came at the door and Liam sat up quickly.

“I know you’d never forget about me,” Ridoc calls from the other side of the door.

Liam tenses, eyes scanning to you as you mutter a litany of curses, jumping out of your bed. Liam’s very aware of his hand resting on your lower back as long as it physically could before you were running around your room.

“Sorry! Give me a minute!” You shouted from the door before glancing at Liam. “Told Ridoc I’d study with him.”

Liam nodded before realizing he ought to get out of your bed and leave, though he knew exactly what that would look like. He watched and waited as you dressed as quickly as you could before swinging the door open.

Ridoc stood there with a shit-eating grin before trying to stop it. “Good morning, Liam. Didn’t expect to see you,” an unnecessary pause as he scanned the both of you, “here.”

You stepped out of your room, smacking Ridoc’s arm in response. He winced, acting like a wounded puppy as you pulled at his arm giving Liam the space to leave. He quickly made his way to the door, unsure how to say goodbye to you. Normally he’d happily walk out into the hallway with his arm around someone’s shoulder. But not today, not this time. You were different. He had too much emotional attachment here. Before Liam could make any more decisions you pulled him into a hug. As you both pulled away from each other he felt that tension from earlier, the moment just before Ridoc was knocking on your door. Before he could think or act on it, Ridoc was half pulling you down the hallway towards someone else’s room. Liam didn’t stand around waiting to find out who, he just briskly walked towards his own room, hearing your laughter just as the door was shut behind him.

He could still feel your warmth, see your proximity to him, feel how close he was to getting a taste of those lips. Liam shook his head. He needed to clear it.

Liam spent an hour doing that, trying to do anything and everything to get you out of his head; push-ups, bathing, studying. Nothing worked. He finally gave up, sitting down with a small piece of wood and a tool, and began to whittle away. Whittling your face from memory.

#liam mairi x you #liam mairi x reader #liam mairi x oc #liam mairi x y/n #ridioc gamlyn #reader #you #x reader #fourth wing x reader #liam mairi #liam mairi fluff #angst sorta #liam mairi pov #your pov

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angstywaifu · 4 months ago

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Dain "Eyes On Me" Aetos

Summary: After an intense day of training Dain is giving you some one on one training despite not coddling first years. A/N: I never thought I'd see the day I'd be writing Dain smut.... but here we are. Warnings: THIS CONTAINS SPOILERS FOR ONYX STORM. DO NOT READ IF YOU HAVEN'T READ ONYX STORM. 18+ Minors DNI. Fingering. Oral F receiving. Unprotected Sex.

Masterlist | Links

“Again.” Carr commands, motioning with his hands for me to attack again.

Out of all the changes to our learning, I couldn’t deny this had been my favourite. Well, it was till I manifested a signet and now had to participate. For weeks I had sat in the seats looking down into the wide open area. Watching in awe as everyone used their signets, learning how to use them against each other. It was amazing to watch.

But now I had fire at my disposal, which now deemed me ready to participate in this class. And just my luck, Xaden wasn’t here to teach it. And Carr had told Garrick to step aside. Which I guess made sense as he did teach us how to use our signets. But I much preferred Garrick’s approach to this class than Carr’s. Especially after he told Bodhi to stop messing with peoples signets. Someone was bound to get hurt soon.

Carr had taken a somewhat annoying interest in me due to us having the same signet. He seemed to push me more than others. Expecting me to already be proficient with my signet. Which was a lot to expect from someone whose signet was not even two weeks old.

And now he was putting me up against a third year who had the same signet and was far more adept than I was. We circle each other, eyeing each other off to try find an opening. He steps forward, raising his hands to attack. I panic and stumble back raising my arms to defend myself, a flame barely flickering in my hands.

“Focus. You can’t afford to do this in battle.” Carr snaps at me from where he stands watching us.

I do my best to calm my nerves, raising my hands again. This time a stronger flame coming out, but it’s nothing compared to what my opponent sends me way. A thick stream of fire extends from his hands towards me. A yell escaping my lips as I stumble backwards, tripping over my own feet. Just before it reaches me, the wall of flames disappears as if extinguished. I look up to see a Bodhi my section leader walking over to us as Carr storms over to him.

“You lot need to stop interfering!” He bellows in Bodhi’s face before gesturing to a second year to step onto the mat.

“Then make this safer.” Bodhi snaps back as he crosses his arms over his chest.

“It won’t be safer in the real world. They need to learn here how dangerous it is. If they can’t survive here, then they have no chance out there.” I swear a vein is about to burst in Carr’s neck with how prominent they are.

“She’s a fucking first year.” Another voice adds as they join the conversation. My breath catches in my throat as Dain steps up next to Bodhi. “She’s barely had her signet a week and you’re throwing her up against someone who’s had three years to perfect it.”

“It’s the only way she will learn.” Carr snaps as he turns his attention to Dain who doesn’t even blink an eye.

“I can think of far better and safer ways to teach someone to use their signet than this. Find. Another. Way.” The way Dain’s voice drops as me seeing him in a whole new light.

We’d been friends before he left for the Riders Quadrant. I wasn’t as close to him as Violet, but I knew him well enough. And the man I see is a far cry from the boy who was always so kind and cautious around me. Making sure I was ok and understood the training or lessons we were taught.

Carr just scoffs in his face. “I’d like to see you do a better job.”

Carr pivots, heading back to the mat where the two cadets stand waiting. Dain turns towards me, his features softening as he takes me in.

“You ok?” He asks as he steps over to me.

I left out a breath I didn’t realise I was holding and slowly nod. “Yeah, I’ll be ok.” I tell him.

He smiles at me but a shout pulls our attention back to the mat. Just like before the third year sends a blast of fire towards a shrieking second year who scrambles backwards to get away. And just like before Carr does nothing to intervene as the flames get closer and closer. I cover my mouth as I watch in horror as she screams and drops to her hands and knees, the flames getting within inches of her.

”Wield! Defend yourself!” Is all Carr yells at her, not even trying to stop what’s happening.

She splays her hand wide on the mat and screams. Moments later the colour drains from the mat beneath her, turning it a grey colour. Dain reaches out and grabs me by the upper arms, spinning me around so my back is to the girl as Carr rushes to her.

”Eyes on me.” Dain says as he cradles my head in his hands.

I nod up at him, doing my best to focus on his eyes. But I know her death comes when his hands tense on my face, his whole body going rigid.

The rest of the day goes by with all of us essentially going through the motions. Death was common in the Quadrant. None of us were strangers to it. But having someone turn right in front of us was a different story. Despite that I found myself back and training in the gym with Dain. Today just proved I needed to get stronger. Needed to strengthen my signet. If not, I could become desperate. I groan as I push myself into a seating position on the mat where Dain had thrown me. He’d made it look so easy. The moves almost second nature to him. Which they were. He’d been training his whole life. I had not.

“Come on Y/N, get up and fight me. Use your signet.” He commands, his wingleader tone slipping in.

I force myself to stand, every muscle in my body screaming after flying, signet training and now this. My body feels like it’s about to ignite as it reaches for my power. It’s as if my body knows it’s the only way to defend myself right now.

I shake my head at him. “I can’t.” I tell him, my voice breaking slightly.

“You can. You can do this.” He tells me as he settles into another fighting stance.

He doesn’t give me a chance to respond as he charges at me. I instinctively pull at my power, flames rising in my hands in an effort to shield myself. Dain dodges it with ease, side stepping the small wall of flame I’ve conjured. I turn and aim the wall at him again but falter when I watch him panic slightly and stumble back.

“Shit, I’m sorry!” I cry out as I rush to him.

But Dain is still in training mode, using my lowered defences to rush at me, tackling me to the mat, pinning me to the mat.

”Don’t be sorry. This is exactly why we’re here.” He tells me gruffly as he looms over me.

”But I’m going to hurt you.” I get out between ragged breaths.

He raise a hand to cup my cheek, a smirk curling at the edges of Dain’s lips, his soft brown eyes flashing with something I can’t quite put my finger on.

”Gods, don’t I know it.” He murmurs as he lowers his face to mine.

I gasp as his lips brush softly over mine, as if he’s testing my reaction. When I don’t pull back he slowly presses his lips to mine. My heart starts hammering in my chest as I tilt my head, deepening the kiss as we both lean into it. I feel Dain’s breath hitch as I slide my hands up his chest, fisting the material of his shirt in my hands. His hands skim down my body, his fingers skimming along my waist causing me to shiver at his touch. He kisses my cheeks and tilt before moving to my neck, a moan escaping my lips before I can stop it. But that’s all it takes to break whatever restraint Dain still had. His hands tighten on my waist as he flips us over so I’m straddling his hips as he looks up at me.

I don’t know what spurs me to do it, here in the gym of all places where anyone could walk in, but I grip the bottom of my shirt in my hands, yanking the material over my head and discarding it next to us. Dain clearly doesn’t care where we are either as he sits up, pulling his own shirt from his body. My hands instantly fall to his chest, tracing over the defined lines of muscle like I’ve always wanted to. Dain’s body shivers at my touch, his muscles tensing as I trace over them. I gasp as Dain’s hands trace up and down my sides as he leans in kisses along my shoulder.

“Gods you’re beautiful.” He murmurs against my neck as his hands grip and knead my hips.

I blush at his words as he leans back into kiss me, feeling him smile into the kiss, the movement casing my lips to part for him. My fingers tangle in his hair as of tongues meet in a slow intoxicating rhythm, trying to pull him closer. I needed more of him. Needed him to consume me. He wraps an arm around my waist, pulling me to him as he leans forward, lowering me back down to lay on the mat.

He breaks the kiss to trace his hands down my chest and stomach, coming to rest on the waist band of the training pants I’d worn. He hesitates, his brown eyes staring into me. I nod at him, knowing he’s waiting for permission to go further. And I’ve never been more sure of anything in my life. He hooks his fingers into the waist band, yanking my pants and underwear off in one smooth movement, and I was very glad I’d gone without my boots for our training session tonight.

I go to push up, reaching for the waistband of his own pants, put he pushes me back down to the mat. “Not yet.” He tells me as he leans over me.

I places a quick kiss to my mouth before he kisses down my neck, to my chest and then slowly down my stomach. I go to clamp my legs shut as I realise where his heading, but his hands fly out, keeping my legs open for him as he moves his lips further and further down. I gasp, neck arching off the mat as he places the first kiss between my legs.

“Oh gods.” I cry out as one of my hands grips his hair tightly, causing him to groan against me which elects another moan from me.

My whole body arches off the mat as his tongue swirls around my clit before dipping lower. His mouth alternating between licking and sucking. His movements are slow but deliberate, building the tension in me with each pass of his tongue. I gasp as I feel him push a finger inside me, my eyes squeezing shut as he adds another and thrusts them in and out, curling them with every other thrust.

I whimper as he removes them from me, but look up to see standing above me, quickly shoving down his pants. This was so unlike him. To give into the moment, to not care that anyone could walk in at any moment. But I wasn’t mad. I wanted Dain. And he wanted me. Maybe not forever, but right now I didn’t care. We were in the middle of a war essentially, none of us knowing if today would be our last.

I can help but trail my eyes over him as he kneels back between my legs, hovering over me as he places his hands either side of my head. I feel him prod against my entrance, sucking in a sharp breath knowing what’s coming. Dain isn’t my first, but something about this feels different. More intimate than any other time.

He rolls his hips, the tip entering me as we both groan at the feeling. He pushes further in, my body arching off the mat as I squeeze my eyes shut as pleasure washes over me, Dain feeling like he was made to be inside me. He slowly thrusts his hips, working his length in till he’s fully inside me. His hand caresses my cheek, my eyes fluttering open to meet his.

”Eyes on me. Think you can do that?” He commands.

I smile and nod up at him before he rolls his hips into mine, my fingers digging into his forearms as I try to anchor myself. He starts off slow, but it doesn’t take long for Dain to pick up his pace, hips sips slamming into mine. I have to force myself to keep my eyes open, especially when he hits that perfect spot inside me. Fuck, it felt so good. I moan loudly when he shifts my legs to lay against his chest, raising my hips off the mat slightly, causing him to hit an angle he wasn’t hitting before. I can’t help it when my eyes fluttering shut as I arch off the mat.

“What did I say Y/N?” Dain practically growls, causing my eyes to fly open. A new wave of pleasure coursing through me at the look in his eyes.

“Eyes. On. You.” I manage to gasp out as he thrusts harder.

”Good girl.” He praises as he leans forward and wraps his arms around me.

“F-fuck.” I moan out as he shifts us so I’m sitting in his lap, chest flush against his as I rest my forehead against his.

My nails dig into this shoulder as I start trembling in his arms, my body wanting to tip over the edge and come undone. So close. I’m so gods damn close. Shit. I wasn’t going to last much longer like this. This angle was easily going to be my undoing. And by how heavy Dain’s breathing has gotten I’m sure he wont be far behind me. I wind my fingers into his hair, pulling on his brown curls earning my a moan that rumbles in his chest, his eyes darkening as they look up at me. I meet Dain thrust for thrust, both of us panting heavily as we get closer and closer. I cry out as I tip over the edge, finally breaking eye contact with Dain as I tilt my head back as I shake and tremble in his arms. His cradles my head against his neck, I feel like the world is flipping as he places me back down on the mat. Dain’s thrust turn erratic as he slams into me, prolonging my orgasm as he chases his end. His hips falter as he groans, falling forward as he catches himself with his hands placed either side of my head. The only sound in the room is both of us panting as we catch our breath. Neither of us willing to break the silence of what’s just happened.

Finally Dain moves, rolling to the side as he pulls me with him an cradles me in his arms. His fingers lazily tracing patterns up and down my side as we come down from our highs. I turn towards him to say something, but the sound of the door jiggling has us both sitting up right. I know we didn’t lock that door when we came in, meaning in our rush Dain must have managed to lock it with lesser magic. But that means whoever is on the other side can open it with that to. Dain rushes up grabbing our scattered clothes before pulling me up as we rush over to them small gym attached to the gym just as the doors open.

”That was close.” I gasp out as he hands me my clothes.

”Too close. We’re never doing that here again.” He informs me as he hastily pulls on his pants.

”You plan on there being more?” I ask, trying to hide my smirk as I turn to pull on my own clothes.

”Many. Just not that public. Now hurry up before they walk in on you half dressed.” He tells me, his Wingleader voice slipping back in.

#fourth wing #fourth wing fanfic #the fourth wing #fourth wing imagine #fourth wing x reader #dain aetos x oc #dain aetos smut #dain aetos x reader #dain aetos #dain aetos fanfic #dain eyes on me aetos #eyes on me

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dragonridersandhighlords · 3 months ago

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Chasing Shadows

XADEN RIORSON X OC!WRENLEY TAVIS

After losing her mother and witnessing the execution of her father, Wrenley Tavis just wants to get through her time at Basgiath bonded to her mother’s dragon and dating her longtime boyfriend, Xaden Riorson. But when Violet Sorrengail joins the Riders quadrant and bonds the mate of Xaden’s dragon, Wrenley finds herself pushed to the sidelines as her world begins to unravel

"Oh I'm running after something, trying to catch your ghost / holding onto pictures and the smell of your clothes" - Chasing Shadows, Alex Warren

Series Warnings (updated regularly): spoilers for all books, smut 18+ MDNI (begins in prologue) , accidental choking, violence, death, swearing, torture

Prologue

One

Two

Three

Four

Five

Six | Bypass Summary

Seven

Eight

Nine

Ten

Eleven

Twelve

Thirteen

Fourteen

Fifteen

and more!

PM or send ask to join taglist!

#Chasing Shadows #iron flame #fourth wing #onyx storm #fourth wing imagine #fourth wing fanfic #the empyrean #xaden riorson #xaden riorson x oc #oc! Wrenley Tavis #xaden riorson imagine #xaden riorson x reader

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littleemissperfecttt · 2 months ago

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The Youngest Sorrengail

About the story: Y/n is violets twin sister. Unlike violet y/n was trained to be a rider by her mother and to be a scribe by her father. The sisters have a strained relationship. Will y/n continue to resent violet because of the past or will she help her in surviving basgiath war college?

Series Masterlist Next Chapter>>

Chapter 1

Y/n pov:

I had already crossed the parapet and have already given my name 'Y/n Sorrengail' the youngest daughter of Lilith Sorrengail- the general and the most hated amongst the marked ones- the unexpected daughter, they thought it was only violet but surprise surprise there i was. They didn't have to tell me I was unwanted, their actions spoke louder. I didn't have the hair like my sisters, mine was the same as our mothers and I had kept it long too

I didn't see the point of being 'marked' the last I heard about them was that they were strong and most of them had survived the threshing making them worthy... As worthy as any other rider out there. When i think of it I was a marked one too but without the mark since before the rebellion.. since the day I was born actually

I am standing alone in one corner waiting for my sister to cross the parapet or get the news of her death. I can feel the glares of the marked ones even with my eyes closed. I open my eyes to see my twin enter I scan her to make sure she is okay (not that anyone would know I am checking on her) I see she is barefoot and is searching for someone as the girl beside her walks away from her after giving her the boots

I sigh softly and walk towards her "why were you barefoot?" I ask glaring at her instead of congratulating her for crossing the parapet "thank you for congratulating me sister i am well how are you?" She asks sarcastically "Violet" i say as a warning she sighs and runs her face "i gave my boots to the girl who was behind me" i raise my eyebrows at her explanation "why so?"

"because she needed it" she said looking away not making eye contact with me "and you didn't?" I glare at her she sighs "Y/n I would love to quarrel with you but I need to find Dain now" I roll my eyes and nods as she walks away searching for Dain

Dain Aetos he has been our- Violet's childhood friend. I wasn't as close to him as Violet was. Heck I wasn't even his friend. I thought his father was a little too suspicious so I kept my distance from Dain. He was not as suspicious but he was most definitely a daddy's boy

My thoughts were broken when they told us to assemble I stand behind my twin and the girl- Rhiannon- who gave me a polite smile while my twin was obviously nervous "Three hundred and one of you have survived the parapet to become cadets today," Commandant Panchek starts his speech "Good job. Sixty- seven did not."

"I've heard this position is just a stepping stone for him," Tara whispers who introduced herself to me when I stood behind my sister. "He wants Sorrengail's job, then General Melgren's." I raise my eyebrows at her words but don't say anything in return

"He'll never get it," violet says quietly, knowing my sister she would be thinking of all the statistics "Melgren's dragon gives him the signet ability to see a battle's outcome before it happens. There's no beating that, and you can't be assassinated if you know it's coming."

"As the Codex says, now you begin the true crucible!" Panchek continues "You will be tested by your superiors, hunted by your peers, and guided by your instincts. If you survive to Threshing, and if you are chosen, you will be riders. Then we'll see how many of you make it to graduation."

"Your instructors will teach you," Panchek promises, his hand sweeping to the line of professors standing at the doors to the academic wing. "It's up to you how well you learn." He swings his pointer finger at us. "Discipline falls to your units, and your wingleader is the last word. If I have to get involved." A slow, sinister smile spreads across his face. "You don't want me involved. With that said, I'll leave you to your wingleaders. My best advice? Don't die." He walks off the dais with the executive commandant

A brunette woman with wide shoulders and a scarred sneer stalks forward, the silver spikes on the shoulders of her uniform flashing in the sunlight. "I'm Nyra, the senior wingleader of the quadrant and the head of the First Wing. Section leaders and squad leaders, take your positions now My shoulder is jostled as someone walks by, pushing between Rhiannon and me. Others follow suit until there are about fifty people in front of us, spaced out in formation.

That's when I see him Xaden Riorson looking at me observing what I am doing. I maintain my eye contact not showing him any signs of fear. I wanted to be a part of the marked ones as they are known to be strong and for various other reasons. For that i need to earn their trust

"Sections and squads," violet whispers to Rhiannon as i overhear breaking my eye contact with Xaden to look at my sister "Three squads in each section and three sections in each of the four wings."

"Thank you," Rhiannon answers.

Dain stands in the section for Second Wing, facing us. I make eye contact with him giving him a smirk as he quickly averts his gaze

"First Squad! Claw Section! First Wing!" Nyra calls out.

A man closer to the dais raises his hand.

"Cadets, when your name is called, take up formation behind your squad leader," Nyra instructs.

The redhead with the crossbow and roll steps forward and begins calling names. One by one, cadets move from the crowd to the formation I observe each and every one of them. Tara is called into the Tail Section, and soon they start on Second Wing

Me, my sister and Rhiannon are called to Second Squad, Flame Section Second Wing. We get into formation quickly, lining up in a square

Xaden watches my sister with a calculating gaze as my sister lifts her chin. He then looks at me as we go back to our staring competition? He cocks his scarred eyebrow. Then he says something to Second Wing's wingleader, and then every wingleader joins in on what's obviously a heated discussion.

"What do you think they're talking about?" Rhiannon whispers. "Quiet," Dain hisses making me glare at him

'Gosh what is his problem' I think as i roll my eyes. I look at my sister who stiffness for a second maybe shocked he isn't the Dain she knows

Finally, the wingleaders turn around to face us, and the slight smirk on Xaden's lips makes my eyes narrow at him "Dain Aetos, you and your squad will switch with Aura Beinhaven's," Nyra orders. I raise my eyebrows at the sudden change not thinking much to it

Dain nods, then turns to us. "Follow me." He says it, then starts walking to the fourth wing

Xaden's wing

I look back at Xaden who is assessing us. "You're all cadets now" He says "Take a look at your squad. These are the oth people guaranteed by Codex not to kill you. But just because they can't end your life doesn't mean others won't. You want a dragon? Earn on the courtyard"

Most of the others cheer hearing his words, i see people talking to their squad mates as he continues

"Sixty-seven people fell or died in some other way today. Sixty-sever" Xaden looks at me and my sister , and I can see my sister feeling nervous... Maybe uncomfortable too? "And I bet you feel pretty badass right now, don't you, first-years?" More cheers. "You feel invincible after the parapet, don't you?" Xaden shouts. "You think you're untouchable! You're on the way to becoming the elite! The few! The chosen!"

Another round of cheers goes up but i know it's not cheers it's them... The dragons

"Oh gods, they're beautiful," Rhiannon whispers as they come into view- a riot of dragons.

A few cadets scream.

Steam blasts mine and my sisters face as the navy-blue one directly in front of us exhales through its wide nostrils. Its glistening blue horns rise above its head in an elegant, lethal sweep, and its wings flare momentarily before tucking in, the tip of their top joint crowned by a single fierce talon.

"We're going to have to bring the masons in again," Dain mutters as chunks of rock crumble under the dragons' grips, crashing to the courtyard in boulders

There are three dragons in various shades of red, two shades of green-like Teine, Mira's dragon-one brown like Mom's, one orange, and the enormous navy one

They are indeed very beautiful, each dragon has their own speciality and i love all of them. I will survive till the threshing. I glance at my sister who is observing the dragons. I have to protect her too, teach her. Maybe now we can forget the past and move on... Hopefully... My thoughts were stopped when a cadet bolts out of Third Wing, screaming as he makes a run for the stone keep behind us. We all turn to look as he sprints for the giant arched door at the center. I can almost see the words carved into the arch from here, but I already know them by heart. A dragon without its rider is a tragedy. A rider without their aragon is dead.

The red dragon on the left opens its vast mouth, revealing teeth as big as I am. Fire erupts along its tongue, then shoots outward in a macabre blaze toward the fleeing cadet.

I scrunch my face in disgust because of the smell. I feel pity for the cadet as he had passed the parapet. That's what fear does. Showing fear in front of dragons is like a death wish

"Anyone else feel like changing their mind?" Xaden shouts "No? Excellent. Roughly half of you will be dead by this time next summer." The formation is silent except for a few untimely sobs from my left. "A third of you again the year after that, and the same your last ye No one cares who your mommy or daddy is here. Even King Tauri's secon son died during his Threshing. So tell me again: Do you feel invincible that you've made it into the Riders Quadrant? Untouchable? Elite?"

This time no one cheers. Not one sound came from any cadet

"Because you're not untouchable or special to them." Xaden points toward the navy dragon and leans forward slightly "To them, you're just the prey."

After the speech we were dismissed, I was bunking with my sister and Rhiannon. We will be getting individual rooms after the threshing

I lay on the bed as Rhiannon and Violet talk about the things that happened. I close my eyes as their voices fade in the background. Exhaustion pulling me to sleep

Next Chapter>>

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mendessi · 4 months ago

Text

things i say when you sleep

series masterlist

bodhi durran x fem!oc

next update: TBD

summary: Ania crosses the Parapet into the Riders Quadrant, and finally meets with the marked children of those who got her parents and brother killed. Bodhi Durran is quick to remind her that she's marked too.

current wordcount: 72k

current chapter count: fourteen

tags: slow burn, friends to enemies to lovers, canon typical violence, mentions of death, she falls first he falls harder, majority canon compliant, some canon deviance, explicit sexual content (🌶️), angst with a happy ending, fourth wing spoilers, iron flame spoilers, additional tags to be added

ao3

F O U R T H W I N G

chapter one

chapter two

chapter three

chapter four

chapter five

chapter six

chapter seven

chapter eight

chapter nine

chapter ten 🌶

chapter eleven

chapter twelve

chapter thirteen 🌶

I R O N F L A M E

chapter fourteen

chapter fifteen

...

ania or Áine (ahn-ya)- radiance or brightness

#bodhi durran x oc #bodhi durran #bodhi fourth wing #fourth wing fanfic #fourth wing #iron flame #onyx storm #the empyrean #bodhi durran fic #bodhi x reader

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theseinfernalangels · 3 months ago

Text

Princess - Garrick Tavis

Synopsis: Sometimes, nicknames can be a little too accurate.

A/N: FINALLY something for our man Garrick. This ties into my little OC universe, so give this a read first. I adore Garrick and Cosette’s dynamic, so I’ll definitely write some more for them soon. Happy reading!

Includes: Secrets, Garrick being cheeky, hurt-comfort. Takes place before Fourth Wing.

It, you decided, was much too bright in the sparring gym. The light beats against your eyes in a way that feels entirely too suffocating, starting from the back of your neck into the expanse of your scalp.

You’re concussed, most likely. You’d taken quite the beating on the mat, although you’d won in the end by virtue of threatening to — and almost actually — slitting another cadet’s throat. It was worth it in the end, but the pounding in the back of your brain made you really start to question if you should have just yielded for the sake of saving yourself.

You slump further into the corner of the gym, where the light just barely reached into the little crevice you’ve inserted yourself into. You felt dizzy and unfocused before, just barely managing to drag your way behind the other cadets to give yourself a moment to rest.

Stupid, you scold yourself. You look like a weak fool.

It’s hard to watch the rest of the matches when you can barely look up without feeling nauseous. It’s loud, too; the whoops and cries of your classmates combined with the thuds and grunts of people hitting the ground was making you feel worse. You almost wish your father had dumped you with the Scribes instead. It would be boring, sure, but at least it would have been quiet.

You’re just about to drag yourself out of the gym to try and soothe your mind when the aching light is obstructed from your view, dimming the space around you just enough so that the pain isn’t searing. What the hell?

You squint. That’s most definitely a person standing with their back to you; their definition is broad and tall, but it’s a little hard to tell who’s saving you from a wicked migraine until something else catches your eye:

Cloudy, ink-like swirls stretching up an arm. Marked. From their sheer size, to the fact that they’re doing this act of kindness for you at all…

Ah. Your savior of the hour is Garrick Tavis.

You’re not sure how this little…arrangement of yours came about. Garrick, by all means, should probably hate you for a multitude of reasons. You thought he was going to kill you the first (and only) time you actually managed to pin him during a match. Instead, though, he’d just lazily grinned up at you, his (admittedly gorgeous) hazel eyes sparkling mischievously.

“Damn,” he’d said in a low voice. “Who knew a princess could have some bite to her?”

You weren’t even sure if he actually knew your secret. The man was smart, sure, but you thought you were smarter. If he knew who you actually were, he didn’t indicate it. The nickname, the one that pissed you off to new extremes, the one he’d defaulted to using every time he had to interact with you, just felt way too intentional.

Maybe you were just paranoid.

Glancing back up at him, you smile weakly. “Playing my saving grace again, Tavis?” you tease, wincing as you rest your head against the wall.

He half-turns, keeping you in his peripherals. “No offense, Camden, but you look like you’re about to keel over. You went down pretty hard earlier, no?”

You sigh. You supposed you probably did look like shit. You certainly felt like it. “Fair. You, uh…don’t have to do that, you know. I was about to head over to the infirmary, anyway.”

He scoffs. “Not a chance, Princess. They’re not letting us out of here for another hour, tops. No exceptions.”

Your temper flares a little. You start to rise before another bout of dizziness hits you, sending you directly back on to the ground. “How many times have I told you not to call me that?”

Garrick turns fully, crouching in front of you and searching your eyes to see if you were actually about to faint. Luckily for you, though, he’s tall enough that him crouching is still enough to block out most of the irritating light of the gym.

“A lot.” He smiles slyly. “But it suits you. You’re no damsel in distress, but if you weren’t here, you’d probably be up in some manor waiting for diplomat studies. You’re pretty enough for it, at least.”

Oh, the irony. You wish you were still in diplomatic studies.

“Well, still,” you say with a scowl. “Don’t fucking call me that.”

“Of course.”

A beat. His eyes sparkle.

“My Queen.”

Shit. You almost choke.

“How embarrassing,” you hear your dragon muse in the back of your mind. “Say something, Ríoga. The Wind-Wielder will capitalize on any moment he catches you off-guard, you know.”

You try to slow your racing heart (whether it’s from being flustered or panicked, you can’t tell) and just raise an eyebrow, although your fingers twitch. “That has to be some form of Navarrian blasphemy.”

Garrick’s head tilts back as he laughs. “Blasphemy?” he echoes. “Hardly. If anything, it’s a prophecy.”

He leans a little closer, leaving the two of you knee-to-knee. His tone lowers. “I’m serious, Camden. You’re fucking stunning, even when you’re sort of out of it. You hate being called a princess, but it really does suit you.”

You hate that. You despise it. You’ve gone your whole life being reminded time and time again that, even if you did have that Tauri blood running through your veins, you’d never be royal. Bastards, no matter how great, no matter the good they did, no matter the legends they conceived, could never be truly royal. Not in ways that mattered.

Coming from Garrick, though…

Huh. The title felt different. Perhaps because he didn’t spit it the way other, more aware people did. He never taunted you with it, never sneered it, never looked down on you. You weren’t considered a real princess, but you could be a princess to him.

Your lips twitch. “Please. I’ll believe it when I see it.”

His expression falls into one of incredulity. “You’re kidding. Look in a damn mirror.”

He looks as if he’s about to go on a whole rant before he’s cut off by a sharp, “Tavis! Get your ass back on the mat!”

The both of you falter for a second before you grin. “I guess that’s your cue.”

You think you catch Garrick looking slightly…disappointed before he schools his face into a teasing mask.

“Guess so,” he says before leaning a little closer. His lips brush against your temple, making your heart pound exponentially faster.

“See you around, Princess.”

#the empyrean #fourth wing #iron flame #onyx storm #fourth wing imagines #garrick tavis #garrick tavis x reader #garrick tavis x oc #garrick x reader #garrick tavis imagine #garrick tavis blurb #fourth wing fanfic #fourth wing x reader #fourth wing oc #garrick fourth wing

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togeppy · 3 months ago

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family line ;

riorson!reader x garrick tavis onyx storm spoilers

xaden's younger sister, who has been in a relationship with garrick since before the rebellion, is meeting her mother for the first time in 13 years in hedotis and dealing with all of the chaos on the isle. based off of the song family line by conan gray & only one use of Y/N because I could not find a way to work around it lol cross posted on ao3!

Scattered 'cross my family line I'm so good at telling lies That came from my mother's side Told a million to survive

As your dragon makes contact with the sand in Hedotis, you slide down their front leg to finally disembark after the aching 13 hour flight that your squad endured. Your body is tense from the rigid position you were forced to maintain on the ride, so you stretch to get all of the knots out of your body while familiarizing yourself with your surroundings. With a roll of your shoulders, you take in the slightly cooler temperature of this particular isle, and the new greenery that adorns the ground ahead of the group. You turn to look at the sea and the expanse of blue that seems to go on endlessly, relishing in the peace that overtakes you as you watch the waves roll in and crash at the shore.

Raising your arms above your head to stretch out your back, you let out a deep breath as the tension begins to lessen and you finally begin to feel comfortable again. Before you can fully lower your arms back down to your side and move to locate your brother or Garrick amongst the squad, a muscular set of arms wrap themselves around your waist, their owner's head coming to rest on your right shoulder. You don't need to turn to recognize the feeling of Garrick embracing you, and all you can do for a moment is smile, taking in the comfort of the warmth that he presents.

"Beautiful," Garrick comments and you can't help but agree, assuming he's describing the sea that you've been staring at for at least a few minutes now.

"It is, isn't it?" you ask rhetorically, staring down at the horizon where the blue of the sea meets the blue of the morning sky, "There's something inherently peaceful about it all, and it's such a gorgeous shade of blue."

"I wasn't talking about the sea," your boyfriend responds, spinning you around in his arms so that you're now facing him, and you can clearly see the mischievous twinkle in his eyes that somehow always seems to make itself visible when he flirts with you. He leans forward and gives you a quick peck on the lips before standing up straight once again.

Despite the fact that the two of you had been dating since right before the apostasy, you still get butterflies when he does things like this, and you feel your cheeks redden slightly despite your brain telling you that it's irrational to be getting this giddy when a man that you've been dating for six years tells you that you're beautiful.

You jokingly smack him in the center of his very muscular chest, and he lets out a laugh, finally untangling his arms from around your waist. You take his hand in your own, beginning to pull him towards the other riders and fliers who had gathered a little ways away. Your eyes skim over the buildings and merchants nearby as you approach them, finally hearing what they were discussing.

Mira and Drake are busy arguing about the Pelson maneuver, and both of you can't help but smile as no one takes Drake's side. It's when Xaden snaps at him that your smiles quickly drop, and you, Garrick, and Violet look at each other alarmed. Something that trivial ticked Xaden off that easily? Anxiety over how quickly your brother's humanity is deteriorating tightens your chest, and Garrick gives your hand a reassuring squeeze. You only look away from each other when Violet's head snaps towards a group in tunics that approaches your squad. As you all turn to face them, your boyfriend removes his hand from yours and you almost protest, before he instead wraps one arm around your waist protectively, as if he can yank you behind him at a moment's notice.

The man who approached you compliments your dragons, and introduces himself after Xaden questions who he is.

"I'm Faris, the second of the triumvirate," his introduction begins, and you can't help but stare at the colour of his eyes, a shade of blue bordering purple that you'd never seen on anyone before. Many people on the Continent had incredible eyes, but you had never seen any this colour before.

"Welcome to Hedotis," he greets the group, before complimenting Violet on her eyes. It appears to be a trait that everyone is focused on in the moment.

"I was just thinking the same about you," she admits.

"Mine are quite common on our isle," he responds, "I've brought my household to formally make your acquaintance and escort you through our beautiful city. If you're amenable, we have room for you to rest at our home on the northeast shore."

He gestures behind him and looks over at the group he arrived with. "Darling, won't you come say hello? I apologize for my wife. Talia seems to be overcome by your magnificent dragons."

The name sends a shiver down your spine - hearing your mother's name spoken by anyone brings a sour taste to your mouth, regardless of whether or not it's in reference to her specifically. A woman who seems to be the man's wife walks up to approach him, her face hidden from view. Her gown flows behind her, and she laces her fingers in his hand.

When she looks up and you can finally see her face clearly, you're frozen in place, unable to form a coherent thought or will your body to do anything that isn't just stand utterly still and stare at the woman in front of you. Her gaze first catches on your brother who is as frozen as you are, her eyes widening in shock. Her eyes study him for a moment unbelieving, before they flick over to you and you suddenly forget how to breathe as she looks over you in a similar fashion. Your knees go weak beneath you, and if it weren't for Garrick's arm holding you upright, you think that you'd have collapsed into the sand by now. The boy next to you is visibly pale as he mutters, "Oh, shit."

"Xaden? Y/N?" she whispers, raising her hand before dropping it, "Is that really you?"

Upon hearing her speak, you and Xaden seem to exit your trancelike state, your senses finally coming back to you. The moment of shock is gone, and all you can feel is rage. The woman before you is not the woman you spent your childhood looking up to, wishing you could be as graceful and beautiful as her. She's the woman who abandoned you at 8 years old in the middle of the night without so much as a goodbye. She's alive, been here in Hedotis all this time, without so much as a message. You see red, as Xaden curtly greets her with a tense "Mom."

She looks at you expectedly, and you can't find it in yourself to meet her with the same greeting. She lost the ability to be your 'mom' when she left you at a time when you were a child who needed a guiding feminine figure in your life. She lost the title of 'mom' when she didn't come back for you when your father died and you were forced into a foster home and subsequently Basgiath.

"Mother," is all you can get out, because the woman before you is not your mom, she's just the woman who brought you into this cruel world.

— • —

You sit silently with your legs draped over Garrick's lap on a couch in the bedroom that the two of you are sharing. You haven't said a single word since your first encounter with your mother, and you're grateful that your boyfriend doesn't push you to comment on it until you're ready. One of his hands soothingly combs through your hair, grounding you from the ire that pulses through your veins. Your mind hasn't calmed once since that moment, thought after thought plaguing you, your body essentially acting as if being controlled by an external source.

You were only eight when your mother had left, still a child with your kid-like features dominating your appearance. When you were fourteen, you had once heard Garrick and Bodhi's mothers whispering about how you looked exactly like your mother, only sharing a few features with Fen and your brother. Upon seeing her for the first time as an adult, you realized that they had not been exaggerating. There was no doubt that you were her offspring, your features almost identical to hers, which only made the experience more infuriating.

Xaden had informed you that he had no intention of talking with your mother before he retreated into his room with Violet, and you couldn't blame him. She left on his birthday, and he was the one that was forced to take on the responsibilities that never should have been his to bear. You wanted to do the same, shut the woman down if she tried to talk to you, but something in you also wanted answers; to hear the doubts that had circled in your mind for years confirmed, so that you could either find it in you to forgive her and move on, or conclude that she never was the woman you thought she was.

As if hearing your thoughts, a soft knock sounds on your door, and you know it's her - none of the riders or fliers would knock on the door with so much uncertainty. Garrick's hand freezes in your hair and he looks to you for confirmation.

"I'll go open it," he says, soft enough so that his voice can't be heard on the other side of the door, "Do you want to talk to her? I'll tell her to fuck off if the answer is no."

You ponder the options for a moment as a second knock follows. You can't seem to make up your mind, but your brain is leaning more towards hopefully never encountering her again. You shake your head in response, and he nods in understanding, pressing a quick kiss to your forehead as he moves your legs to the side so that he can stand up and walk to the door.

When the door opens you hear a clear "Garrick-" from your mother before the man swiftly steps through the crack in the door and into the hallway, shutting the door behind him so that their voices are now muffled.

"She doesn't want to talk," you can vaguely hear him say in response to a garbled request from the woman, his voice raised enough that you can still hear him despite the wall separating you, "And rightfully so, you abandoned them thirteen years ago and you're expecting for them to what, welcome you back with open arms and cheer for their mommy? A fruit platter isn't going to change you not being there for thirteen years. At this point, you've been gone longer than you were ever there. Besides, if you had been around the whole time you'd know she's too afraid of eating figs ever since Fen had to save her from choking on one."

You can't help but smile at the way that the older boy is defending you through lecturing your own mother. You know this is just as shocking for him - the woman was a frequent figure in his childhood as well before she turned her back on all of Tyrrendor and everyone within it. You're grateful for the protective stance that he's immediately taken, mentally reminding yourself to show him your gratitude when you're no longer in this situation.

"I'm not expecting a jolly reunion, I just want to talk, even if only for a few moments," your mother responds, a strain in her voice as if begging Garrick to convince you to talk to her, "She has the right to be angry, I just… I want to explain."

While you know that you likely can't trust a word she's saying, hearing her say that ignites the spark in you that makes you want to get your answers. Xaden definitely isn't going to talk to her, so maybe you can get answers for you both. You wonder if she had already tried at Xaden's door, and how Violet would have handled this situation. Garrick at least knew the woman before she left so he's able to argue with her, Violet has next to no context to defend Xaden.

"Explain what? That you abandoned your two children in the middle of the night without telling them you were leaving in the first place?" you hear Garrick scoff, "You weren't there to see the two people I care about most in this world fall apart because they lost someone that was supposed to be there for them and love them unconditionally."

Your heart seizes at Garrick's words as he continues angrily berating your mother. You really have to make sure he knows how much you appreciate him standing up for you later. Your heart takes over your head, and you find yourself standing up and making yourself look presentable in the mirror. You're going to go out there and put up with the woman for even just a few moments so you can get your answers.

"I do love them," you can hear Talia protest as you move towards the door, "You don't understand Garrick, you were just a child yourself. Even if it's just at dinner tonight, I need-- I want to talk to at least one of my children."

"Exactly, I was just a child, but your own son was the same age as me, much less your daughter being two years younger, and even I couldn't fathom your rationale for just up and leaving, so just imagine how much they-" Garrick's voice gets louder as you open the door, and his sentence is cut short, his head immediately snapping over to you as you stand in the doorway, eyes blank as you glance between the duo that had been arguing outside your door.

"My girl…" your mother whispers seeing you in the doorway, and you immediately shut her down.

"You lost the right to call me that when you abandoned me and Xaden," you state firmly, eyes boring into the woman before you even as her face falls from hearing your statement, "I wasn't going to talk but you get ten minutes to answer questions I have. That's all you're getting."

Talia frantically nods, agreeing to those terms, "Yes, yes of course, there's a room down the hall where we can sit." She brings your attention to the fruit tray that she has apparently been holding all this time. The hazel eyed boy looks at you with a skeptical glance, as if confirming that this is what you really want. You nod, hand briefly brushing over his bicep as your mother waits for you to follow her.

"Thank you," you whisper to him.

"I'll be right outside in the hall if you need me, okay?" he reassures, and you nod once again, leaning up to give him a quick kiss on the cheek before you move to follow after the woman.

As you walk down the hall, she spares a quick glance back towards Garrick, who hasn't moved an inch as he carefully watches the two of you walk away.

"The two of you really did end up together," the woman says, likely thinking back to when you were a child and you used to proclaim innocently that you would marry Garrick one day, seeing as he was the only boy you frequently played with that wasn't your brother or cousin, "He really loves you to defend you like that."

She doesn't say anything for a few moments as if in thought, before she continues. "Do you love him?"

You furrow your brows, finally looking at the woman in confusion. "Of course I do, why wouldn't I?"

She's silent once again, not answering your question, and you start to worry that this may be indicative of the conversation you're about to have.

"You and Xaden both… you found people who really love you. I'm happy," she finally says, and you once again look over at her confused. What is she playing at? Is this her way of trying to manipulate you into forgiving her in hopes that Xaden will follow in your footsteps?

You shake your head to clear your thoughts, and continue following after her. You're talking to her to get answers on behalf of your eight-year-old self. Nothing more.

— • —

Oh, all that I did to try to undo it All of my pain and all your excuses I was a kid but I wasn't clueless (Someone who loves you wouldn't do this) All of my past, I tried to erase it But now I see, would I even change it? Might share a face and share a last name, but (We are not the same)

"You never told us you were from Hedotis," you state accusingly as you now sit across from Talia in a grand room obviously meant for casual conversation with guests, the fruit tray resting on a small table between the two of you. She had never once explicitly mentioned being from the isle to you or Xaden, though in hindsight it seemed the obvious conclusion. She loved bright colours, and at night she soothed you and your brother with arinmint tea and stories of a purple-eyed race that lived in peace.

You and Xaden had come to the conclusion that she was hiding among the forces in Poromiel, completely unaware of the grand life that she had been living while her two children faced the possibility of death every day. You can't help but let your eyes wander over the grandeur of the room you're currently seated in; windows framed with intricately embroidered curtains, the shine of a clearly maintained floor, everything placed strategically around the room as if to serve a greater purpose. You have to stop yourself from comparing the room to how she maintained Riorson house years ago, in fear of accidentally letting your walls down in front of her.

"You and Xaden are the heirs to Tyrrendor, it was necessary you grew up with the Tyrrish customs, not those of Hedotis," she responds smoothly, as if her response was practised. You wonder if that was the lie she told herself all those years ago to rationalize hiding this information from the two of you.

A moment of silence passes between the two of you, both of you unsure of how to properly continue this conversation. You came into this discussion with the intention of getting answers, but now that the truth is within your reach, you're suddenly not so sure you want it. She stares at you expectantly, waiting for you to ask the question that hangs heavily in the air.

"Why did you leave?" you blurt out, finally finding it in yourself to ask before you become too scared to face the answers you're about to receive.

"I was only wed to your father because of a contract-" she begins, but you quickly cut her off.

"I know about the contract," you dismiss her response, once again immediately identifying this as a part of her rehearsed rationalizations, "I know that you never loved Dad, but you had to have an heir reach ten years old. You only had me two years after Xaden to make sure you wouldn't have to bear another child and stay another ten years if anything happened to him, didn't you?"

She stares at you, eyes wide for a moment, obviously not expecting this to be one of the questions you asked. A few seconds pass before she slowly nods, the first long-unanswered question you had finally being confirmed. You're not sure how to feel- your mother just confirmed that you were essentially just a backup for your brother.

"Is that why it was so easy for you to leave then?" you follow up, voicing the thoughts that swirl up in the back of your head, eyes never leaving her for a moment. You can see how she tenses, this conversation not going in the direction she expected.

"It was never easy for me to leave," she counters, shaking her head, "It was the most difficult thing I've ever done." Sorrow is plastered all over her face, but at this point you can't tell if it's real or just pretend- she'd lied to you throughout your entire childhood, who's to say she wasn't lying in this moment too?

"You didn't have to leave just because your contract was over," you fire back, crossing your arms over your chest, "If you really loved us, you would have stayed and been there for us as a mother would."

"I would have been killed! Either publicly as your father was, or in secret just as Mairi's husband was - I couldn't be a mother to you if I was dead," she tries to argue, but you can't help but roll your eyes.

"You weren't a mother to us either way. Dad wasn't killed until I was 15, there were moments that I- we needed you in the seven years you weren't there," you instantly reply, bitterness seeping from your words "And okay, fine if I play into that narrative, why didn't you come back for us when the rebellion was over? Xaden and I were sent to foster homes while our mother was apparently alive and thriving on the other side of the sea."

The resentment that radiates from you is evident, and the woman before you seems to shrink into herself with each word you speak. She displays regret, but there's no way of telling how sincere those outwardly displayed emotions are.

"I wanted to take you with me when I left," she begins, speaking slower now as if choosing her wording very carefully, "Your father wouldn't let me. I wanted to come back for you when I got word that the rebellion was over too, but General Melgren was watching all of you children too closely. I feared that he would consider it treason if I brought you two here, and would kill all three of us on the spot."

There is some reason to what she is saying - there was no way Melgren would have let the two children of the rebellion's leader flee the Continent and his control, but it doesn’t hurt any less.

"The least you could have done was tell us that you were leaving instead of disappearing in the middle of the night," you state plainly, and notice how she lowers her head as if agreeing with a small nod.

"Yes, leaving on Xaden's birthday was not the best way to go, but you have to understand that you were both very emotionally attached children. You sobbed uncontrollably every time your father had to leave for trips away, I never would have been able to leave if I told you both that I was leaving the Continent." she starts rambling, her excuses falling on deaf ears.

The frustration that had been simmering at a low boil within you has begun coursing through your veins as you hear her explanations, finding it increasingly difficult to stay civil.

"And you didn't stop to think that might have been an indicator that you shouldn't have left?" you snap, earning a flinch from your mother. Before, she had been willing to let you lead this conversation, but now the woman has rebuttals as the conversation approaches the direction that she had been anticipating.

"I felt nothing but love and adoration for both of you, but you were just children. You wouldn't have understood-" she starts, but your frustration has escalated to exasperation over the fact that despite your points, she does not seem capable of seeing the situation from your point of view.

"We understood fully well what abandonment felt like," your voice is laced with even more resentment as you interrupt her last excuse, ready to bring perspective to what life had been like following her departure, "What you didn't understand was how your leaving scarred me and Xaden. I slept by the foot of your bed every night, thinking that you would come back and I'd be there to see you when you returned. Dad noticed after a few nights and let me sleep in his bed until he was sure that I knew he would never willingly abandon me. So yes, I was a child but I had a better understanding of how a loving parent should act because of Dad than you ever will."

Talia looks at you in stunned silence, a tear rolling down her cheek. She reaches for your hand, but you immediately pull it away, unable to share in this emotionally vulnerable moment with her. You can't find it in yourself to pity her as the gravity of her actions seems to finally sink in.

"I- I didn't realize," she manages to whisper, and all you can do is scoff. You're not sure what she expected from you. Did she think you would accept her excuse of wanting to preserve her own life? Your father made sure to compensate extra for the lack of her presence in your life, and nothing she exhibits now comes even close to the love you felt from him when he was alive.

"Of course you didn't," you gesture to the room around you, though monochromatic, it's much more majestic than the life you'd been living before your return to Aretia, "When you have a life like this you don't need to think about your two children running from death on the Continent. What, you got married immediately, had a couple more kids and forgot all about us?"

You meant it as a sarcastic joke, but the pause and brief panic that flashes behind the eyes that are so similar to your own is not lost upon you when she responds, "I never forgot about the two of you."

Your eyes narrow in her direction as you lean forward slightly in your seat. "Did you have more children when you returned here?"

Talia's lips straighten into a thin line as if contemplating whether or not to divulge her next words. Finally, she decides to tell you the truth. "Yes, I have two sons with Faris. Simeon and Gaius."

It's now your turn to be stunned to silence. You have two half-brothers that you didn't know existed. Two more children to replace you and Xaden. You can't help the jealousy that consumes you; the two boys get to have a childhood with the mother that you and Xaden didn't get to fully experience - a childhood that didn't end in abandonment. You were already born to be a replacement for your older brother, and the fact that she had exactly two more children is the icing on the cake. Your next words are spoken coldly, as only fury fuels you now.

"This whole time, I wished you were dead," you start after the prolonged moment of silence that had passed, earning you a bewildered look, "I thought that there was no way the mother I grew up adoring wouldn't come back for us unless it was physically impossible for her to return."

Talia opens her mouth as if to protest, but you continue before she has the chance to speak.

"We might share the same features, but I am nothing like you. You say you love us but someone who loves their children would never make them feel the way you made me and Xaden feel. I will never treat my children the way that you treated us." Standing up angrily, you cast a cursory glance at the fruit tray that rests untouched in front of you. Its contents are all tailored to things you and Xaden liked as children, but don't match your current tastes at all, only further proving that she's too busy clinging to an idealistic past.

"I will be attending dinner but only for the sake of Violet's mission," you begin walking towards the door without so much as a second glance to the woman, "I don't speak on behalf of Xaden, but do not expect anything more of me."

You don't wait to hear her response before throwing the door open and walking out into the hallway. Garrick, who was patiently leaning up against one of the walls waiting for you, immediately straightens up upon seeing you emerge. Immediately noticing the anger plastered over your face, he cups the side of your face, stroking your cheek with his thumb in a soothing manner.

"I don't expect that went particularly well," he comments, trying to lighten the mood.

"No, it definitely did not," you respond, removing his hand, instead lacing your fingers with his, "Thank you for waiting out here for me."

The boy flashes you a sympathetic smile, the dimple just barely popping in his cheek, "Any day, love."

The two of you begin walking back to your assigned room, and you force yourself not to let any tears fall. You wasted too many tears on this woman as a child, and you will not let any more be shed because of her.

"She's somehow more awful of a mother than I remember," you try to joke.

"Really? I was going to nominate her for mother of the year," the boy jokes back as you walk through the doorway back into your shared room, "Though I guess she is the only one left so it's not really a fair competition."

You can't help but laugh, though you do acknowledge the harrowing truth that she is the last parent alive for any of you marked ones. Where there had been a mother-shaped gap in your life, the parents of your friends were more than willing to take turns acting as a second parent whenever you needed one.

When you had entered womanhood, Bodhi's mother was there giving you tips and helping you select any feminine items that you needed. When you got sick while your father was away on a prolonged trip, Imogen's mother brought you soup and made sure that you were well rested. When you first started dating Garrick, his mother was there to give you both a stern talking to about staying safe and making sure that you were both equally embarrassed by the end of her speech.

You didn't need the woman who gave you life to be present in your life when you had a community of people that truly loved you, always ready to stand by your side.

The revelation brings you to double check that the door to your room is closed and locked, before pushing Garrick to sit on the edge of your bed, with you standing between his legs. His eyes widen in shock, before fluttering shut as you go to firmly place a kiss on his lips, his hands reflexively going to rest at your hips. He enthusiastically returns the kiss, before abruptly pulling away. You frown as he looks at you, eyebrows knitted together in concern.

"As much as I like what appears to be developing here, I need to know that you're not just doing this because of whatever just happened with Talia-" he begins, his eyes looking between yours for confirmation that you're in the right state of mind.

You cut him off with another kiss, once again lasting only a few more seconds before you pull away to whisper in his ear.

"I spent so long caring about the mother that wasn't there for me, and I haven't been giving enough appreciation to the boy that has been by my side through it all," you say, and you can feel the sudden increase in his heart rate.

You see the corners of his mouth lift up in a smile, as his hands tighten around your hips.

"I won't argue with that."

— • —

How could you hurt a little kid? I can't forget, I can't forgive you 'Cause now I'm scared that everyone I love will leave me

You and Garrick were the last to arrive for dinner, and much to your dismay, the only two seats left at the table were the two right next to your mother. Garrick gives you a glance and takes the seat next to the woman before you can even open your mouth to comment on the situation. You mutter a quick thanks to him, before taking the seat to his left, next to Aaric. Xaden shoots you a glance as well, a look that he has perfected over the years, silently asking you if you're okay. You nod slightly, and he nods in response, indicating that he's okay as well.

After the conversation you had with Talia, you don't have much of an appetite. At first you only pick at your food, but Garrick leans over to you, whispering in your ear that you should eat so that you have energy to explore the rest of the isle. You can't argue with that, and use a hyper-focus on the plate in front of you as an excuse for avoiding the stare that Talia has divided between you and Xaden.

You only retain bits and pieces of the conversation, cataloguing enough so that you're informed enough for the mission, but not paying full attention in fear of either breaking down or lashing out against the woman to Garrick's right.

You can't help but tighten your grip around your fork as the remainder of your group identifies that this dinner is a test of all of you - a way for them to determine if you're worth their time.

"Talia will serve as witness," Nairi says, "And we thought an informal setting would be best given the… delicate nature of relations."

You can't help the satisfaction that comes from seeing your mother's shoulders slump as she shrinks in on herself at that statement.

"You mean in case my sister and I embarrass our mother in a public setting with our lack of wisdom. Is that your fear, Mom?" Xaden quips back coolly, casting a glance over at you before glaring daggers into the woman. To some degree, she's lucky that you had the conversation with her earlier - you can't imagine how much less civil you would be right now if you hadn't taken out your anger on her earlier in the day. She has two new perfect sons that she can present to the public. You and Xaden are now reduced only to these secluded meetings, her Riorson children not up to the Hedotis standard.

"No." The woman seems to regain her previous composure, realizing how weak she had looked before, "My reticence about tonight is due to my own shame, in that I asked Faris for a personal favour so that you might be more comfortable during the conversation. I don't worry about your intelligence. You were always bright children." She reaches for her goblet, hand shaking, a reminder to you of her cowardice. Despite what she says right now, you know that she's afraid of how her husband and the remainder of the triumvirate will perceive her two children from her past.

You can't help the audible scoff that escapes you, Aaric sparing you a quick look as Faris seems to change the subject, focus shifting to Cat as they discuss gryphons. It's not lost on you that she can only comment on your intelligence before she left, but what value does that measure present? You were eight and Xaden ten, merely children who knew so little of the world. Now you're both adults, riders bearing the burden of a revolution on your back. Your intelligence then is nothing compared to what you know now.

You're brought back to the conversation when you hear Nairi speak up once again. "So many young royals here. So many potential alliances. Why are you not contracted to one another? It seems… foolish not to forge futures and provide heirs who could unite your kingdoms."

Your eyebrows shoot up, and you notice that even Garrick can't hide the shock on his face at that statement.

Aaric defends his reasoning from next to you, so nonchalant that he appears as if this is just regular dinner conversation to him. You can't help but respect the way that he treats all of this with grace despite the subtle insult.

When Nairi turns to Xaden, his gaze also flickering over to you, you find yourself holding your breath. The whole situation with Cat and Violet was messy, and you fear slightly for how this will turn out.

"And your excuse? We received news months ago that your title had been restored to you." Your heart seizes, but you don't let it show. They have more current information than you realized; you should have guessed based on the way that Talia mentioned she knew about the rebellion ending, but it still hurts to hear.

"Well then as you know, I'm a duke, not a prince." Xaden responds even-toned, contrasting his action of stabbing a piece of potato on his plate with a fork. Nairi looks over to you, as if expecting your response as well.

"I'm only the backup for Tyrrendor," you sourly look towards your mother, who avoids eye contact at the accusatory statement, "I don't inherit much as long as Xaden stays alive, so I'm free to marry Garrick with no consequences." You toss a small smile over to the boy next to you, who in return has a smug smile light up his face, his arm going to rest on the back of your chair.

Talia rushes to defend Xaden's position, immediately blabbering on about the size of Tyrrendor and how an alliance was supposed to be secured, trailing off as she glances between Xaden and Violet.

"I don't owe you an explanation about my love life." Xaden states, a complete lack of amusement clear on his face.

"Lost that privilege about thirteen years ago," you mutter in response, but the woman hears it, and a dejected look crosses her face before she pivots to Cat, who is now summarizing the situation between her and Xaden, and the benefits of Xaden and Violet being in a relationship. You roll your eyes as the triumvirate seems to argue their points, proposing a contract marriage between Xaden and Cat.

Your blood begins to boil at the conversation unveiling before you. Do none of these people have an ounce of humanity in them? Is everything only done for the sake of a contract? You look between Talia and Faris, and you begin to see how clearly she fits in here, the woman who was willing to abandon her two young children for the sake of contract, married to this man who has no regard for Xaden and Violet's relationship.

"If bloodlines equaled allegiance, we wouldn't be sitting here under interrogation," Garrick pipes up sarcastically laughing, and you can't help but laugh at the truth of his statement. Talia was your mother, if you went by their logic, Hedotis would already be allied with Tyrrendor. "The two of them are your children right?"

A smile ghosts your lips at your mother's discomfort as she downs the tea in front of her in embarrassment.

"Draw up the papers," Xaden says suddenly, and all of your necks immediately snap towards him in shock. Is he really agreeing to a marriage with Cat?

"Ah, there we go! What an excellent decision. Shall we go with three or four years?" Faris exclaims happily, his hands clapping together. Normally, you would have a sarcastic retort, but you're too surprised by Xaden's response to say anything.

"Lifetime. Anything less is unacceptable," you watch as Xaden's hands meet the back of Violet's neck. "And her full name for the papers is Violet Sorrengail. Two Rs."

You almost choke on your own saliva, and Garrick does let a choked laugh out from beside you. Somehow, Aaric doesn't even react.

"My last name is tied to the title, but we could take yours," Xaden says to Violet.

"You could hyphenate? Or combine? Riorgail? Sorrenson?" Garrick proposes to the whole table, and you have to smack him in the leg so that he stops spurring them on. Xaden continues arguing with your mother who is a pleading and panicked mess from across the table.

Garrick turns to you as the others argue, his voice dropping and his dimple ever so present, "We could do that too when we get married. Thoughts on Riorvis? Tavson?"

You scrunch your face up in disgust, "Both of those sound awful."

He nods, "Yeah now that I hear it out loud I agree. Hyphenate? Riorson-Tavis? Tavis-Riorson."

You think on it for a moment, grateful to be having this lighthearted conversation rather than the heated topics the rest of the table are currently facing. "That's kind of a mouthful. I'm fine with just taking Tavis."

He raises an eyebrow surprised, but the smile doesn't leave his face, "You'd abandon the Riorson name?"

You lay a comforting hand on top of his thigh and a warm smile in response, "For you? Definitely."

He removes his hand from behind your chair, moving it to instead rest on top of yours. Your anger has dissipated, your mood significantly improving upon discussing the prospect of you being married to the love of your life. You're not going to let the rest of this table ruin that.

You focus on your food once again, instead taking your fork in your left hand now that your right is trapped under Garrick's. You try not to let your mother's words rile you up again; her spat with Xaden is almost word for word the same as the conversation she has had with you. It's clear that she has rehearsed her excuses, and you give Xaden the space to let his resentment out now, just as you had done in the guest room.

You don't speak another word until it's time for dessert, when your plate gets whisked away to the kitchen, and you lose your source of distraction. When dessert is placed in front of you, you can't do anything but freeze, eyes staring blankly at the slice of chocolate cake in front of you. You can't even find it in yourself to look up at your brother, for you know he's feeling the same sentiment as you right now. Chocolate cake was always his favourite, but it was equally sentimental to you. Every birthday or special event, chocolate cake was your mother's go-to celebration food. Every special occasion in your childhood was marked with this exact cake, and seeing it in front of you makes your mouth go dry.

Garrick has already begun eating the cake, mumbling to you about how it tastes exactly like the one from your childhood. You can't find it in yourself to take a bite - it feels as if you would be conceding to your mother, letting her win, showing her that she can still find a way into your heart.

You're suddenly snapped to your senses, as you see Violet from off to your left snatching the fork from Aaric's grasp. You look up in confusion, even more bewildered when you hear her yell "Stop!"

You quickly look around the table and notice that Garrick is the only one that's eaten any of the cake. Your heart starts to beat faster when you feel him start to sway.

"He said we could start," he says quizzically, before he blinks slowly, "I feel… I feel-" his eyes flutter and he collapses. By this point, your heart is beating wildly out of your chest as you and Aaric both lunge to stop him from completely dropping onto the table.

Holding him in your arms, you go to check his pulse, and you feel pure fear run through your entire body when Aaric, who is helping support the large man exclaims, "He's not breathing!"

Xaden runs over immediately, taking Garrick from your arms and laying him on the floor. You crouch next to him, refusing to leave his side, tears starting to blur your vision. You'd hoped in this kind of situation that you'd be able to remain calm, but seeing the man you love in such a vulnerable state, moments away from death, you lose all ability to think logically.

Your brother is checking his pulse once again, confirming that his heart is still barely beating.

"We need to get him to breathe, he's fucking blue." Aaric comments.

Xaden agrees, before leaning over and breathing into Garrick's mouth. The room feels as if it's spinning while you watch Garrick's chest rise as it's filled with the air from the other boy's breaths. You feel utterly useless as you sit there, watching your brother attempt to save your boyfriend's life.

"You poisoned my children?" you hear your mother shriek from across the room, your gaze snapping up as you hear her angrily berate her husband. You slowly start to put the pieces together. Faris poisoned the cake as part of the test, and Garrick was the only one who fell victim to it. This wasn't her doing, but if it weren't for her husband, you wouldn't be in this situation. You've already let her take enough from you, you won't let her take Garrick too.

"Let me," you say to Xaden, pushing him away from Garrick as he comes up for a breath. He starts to protest, but you cut him off, desperation in your voice, "Please Xaden, help Violet find a cure, I'll keep him breathing."

The boy hesitates before nodding, and he lets you take his place. Your lips meet your boyfriend's, significantly colder than they were only hours before. Tears stream down your face as you find a rhythm, breathing air into his lungs while Aaric sits near you in support. You don't hear a single word being spoken in the room, your frantic heartbeat the only sound in your ears as you work to keep the hazel eyed boy alive beneath you.

It feels like an eternity later when you feel Xaden's hand on your shoulder, urging you off of him so that you can take a break and he can take over for a bit. You look over to see Trager placing his hands on Garrick's chest to keep his heart beating. When did he get here?

You sluggishly look around the room to see that the rest of your group has arrived, and two members of the triumvirate are retching on the opposite side of the room. Tears are still frantically streaming down your cheeks as you stare down at your boyfriend's lifeless body, only being kept alive by the two men preventing him from drifting off to Malek.

"Don't leave me, please Garrick," you mumble, taking his hand into your own, "I can't lose you too, please stay alive." You don't look up when Cat and Maren come join you, the first girl soothingly rubbing a hand down your back, the latter mumbling encouraging words in your ear. You're too consumed with fear to be surprised that Cat is comforting you, though it does make sense to some degree. She controls emotions, it's only reasonable that she's here to comfort you through this. Or girl code or something. Who knows.

"He's going to be okay. Dain's preparing the cure now," Maren whispers into your ear, and you finally look up at the girl, pity in her eyes as she takes in your fragile state.

"They found it?" you whisper, and she nods. Cat's hand is removed from your back as Violet calls her off to do something, but Maren stays at your side.

"It was figs. He's just preparing it so Garrick can consume it. He's going to be fine." she smiles softly, and you finally stop trembling for long enough to her to take some comfort in your current state and go off to help Cat with her orders.

You don't move an inch until Dain comes back with the fig-drink and he and Xaden make quick work of trying to shove it down Garrick's throat. You lean forward, holding your breath once again, waiting to see if it works and if you'll have the man you love back to you.

He suddenly sputters, some of the drink coming out of his mouth, but Xaden is there in a moment telling him to get up and drink it. You feel as if your body is weightless, sagging in relief as your boyfriend takes four chugs to get the remainder of the drink down. He's alive and you're not going to lose him today.

You and Xaden both look at each other, relieved that he was able to at least be conscious for long enough to take in the drink. You take as few breaths as humanly possible in the next three minutes as you and your brother sit hand in hand next to his body waiting for him to wake up.

When Garrick groans and opens his eyes, muttering "This is my least favourite isle," you cry out, burying your face into his chest. Xaden's head falls back as if in a prayer of thanks that his best friend is alive.

Garrick lightly places a hand on the back of your head, as Xaden jumps up and goes to shove Faris against the wall. Deservedly so. You can't find it in yourself to be angry at your mother right now, you can only feel relief and the tears start once again as you remove yourself from Garrick's grasp.

You quickly move to place a kiss on his lips, more desperate than any shared between the two of you before. He weakly kisses you back for a few moments, before you finally come up for air. Your foreheads rest against each other, and he wipes away the tears that are falling down your cheeks.

"I thought I lost you Gare," you cry, trembling in his embrace.

"It's going to take more than a piece of chocolate cake for you to lose me, love." he jokes, and you can't help but laugh as you hold him, tighter than you ever have before, "Ironic the figs that almost choked you to death years ago are the thing that saved me today."

"I love you," is all you can say, despite the chaos reining around you. Fights are being broken out, threats being uttered, but all you care about is the boy in your arms right now that you hope to never lose again.

"I love you too," He kisses your temple with all the strength he can muster, before groaning as he tries to properly sit up, "Can we get the hell off this isle as soon as possible? Your mother's new family is a little psycho."

You smile, nodding as you support him.

"I think I agree, let's never come back."

#garrick tavis x reader #garrick tavis x y/n #garrick tavis x oc #garrick tavis #riorson!reader #xaden riorson #violet sorrengail #fourth wing #iron flame #onyx storm #talia riorson #togeppys #Spotify

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gloryofroses19 · 4 months ago

Text

But I Wanted More

Pairing: Aaric Graycastle x healer!OC (Dinah Halliwell)

Warning: Illusions to Aaric's true identity

Some days in the Healer Quadrant were quiet. Whereas others, like challenge days, were chaotic and hectic as the Riders bled for their place in the Quadrant.

Surveying the hustle of the infirmary, Dinah took a calming breath before calling out, “Cadet Graycastle?”

A muscular sandy brown haired figure startled at her call. With his broad back still facing her, she couldn’t help but marvel at how the sight didn’t phase her anymore. How many broad handsome cadets had she seen and lost in this very infirmary?

But as her eyes met his distinctive green, she realized she could still be phased. When she saw the name on the file, she thought of him. Thought of the boy who had always been Aaric to her despite everyone else calling him by another name. Aaric since he introduced himself to her in the quiet of the royal library years ago. Aaric who now made her wonder if she conjured him from her mind.

Yet, she had no magic and here he stood before her.

Like the last time they had seen each and yet entirely different. What was once two teenagers saying goodbye to their fanciful youth, wishing that they could be led by their hearts and not duty. But instead now stood two adults steeped in blood and choices.

“Follow me, please.” She instructed, turning and leading him to a quieter space.

“Sit on the right side.” Dinah opened the curtain and gestured for him to go inside. Nodding to her fellow second year, she busied herself collecting supplies. She knew it was useless trying to maintain a physical distance, because the familiarity of him was already reblooming buds of affection.

“I’m Cadet Halliwell. Can you tell me how you sustained this injury?” She had asked the only appropriate question as a million more were running through her mind.

The weight of his stare felt as heavy as his shock of seeing her and he did nothing to lighten it. His siblings had always joked that she was his imaginary friend, his person and nobody else’s. And they weren’t wrong, because all they ever caught were glimpses and echoes of his time with her.

“During a Challenge,” His voice gave off an air of laziness, however, his eyes were alert. His gaze was watching with the hope that she would look at him again. “The other guy pinned me down and it cracked.”

Making a noise of affirmation, Dinah barely had time to process before a large warm hand wrapped around her wrist. “I won by the way.” Aaric added haughtily, as a smile spread across his lips as she finally met his gaze again.

Unimpressed, though the corner of her lip raised offering a ghost of a smile. He had always been such a braggart around her, time hadn’t changed that apparently. “Congratulations” she replied sarcastically. “I apologize but if you want Professor Nolon to heal this quickly, you’ll have to go on the list.”

“That isn’t necessary.”

‘Princes and their fragile egos’, she thought. But looking at him in his black clothing that suited him more than the royal attire, she amended her original thought. ‘Riders and their fragile egos’.

“Then I’ll need my wrist back, Cadet.” Stressing his rank, she intended to remind him of her status. That she was a second year, his elder, and not a little girl. But she would be lying if she didn’t feel like a child. Like an insecure girl who had been trying to work the nerve to touch him. “I’ll splint it and you’ll need to not do anything strenuous for a few weeks for it to heal properly.”

A comfortable silence settled across the pair as Dinah worked in setting and splinting his wrist. Aaric’s gaze never wavering from her face as if trying to memorize it with the fear that she would disappear right before his eyes again. She had once been a weekly constant in his life, a weekly solstice before his father ruined another part of his life.

“Aren’t you going to ask why I’m here?” His voice broke the silence as she neared completing her job.

Taking her time, she secured the final bandage before replying flatly.“Why would I? We don't know each other, Cadet Graycastle.” She paused waiting until the other healer and patient left. Then she regarded him with a twinkle of mischief in her eyes. “And if we did, I would tell you that your last name is very unimaginative.”

Chuckling to himself, Aaric's chest ached with sorrow for how much he missed her all these years. “My mistake, you look like a girl I used to know.” He admitted, his voice softening with each word.

Looking into his emerald eyes, Dinah longed to spend more time with him. Longed to hear how he had been all these years and why he ended up here. But longing for more time together had always been their way. “Mmm this sounds like the start of a bad pickup line.”

“Do you want me to pick you up, Halliwell?” Aaric breathed, smirking at her.

“Keep it dry when you can and here is some salve for the pain,” Placing a ceramic jar next to his hand, Dinah leaned in and then whispered, “Your highness.”

Dinah watched as his gaze dropped to her lips realizing too late how her breath hitched. How gone was the boy who blushed when their hands brushed each other over books and tea.

“It's nice to see you too, Di.” Aaric said with a chuckle, slowly standing up. Since their parting, he sometimes did think she was his imaginary friend. That someone so warm and bright couldn't have been more than a fictious being crafted by his subconscious. That try as he might, the sound of her voice and warmth of her laughter had begun to fade. But as he looked down at the woman she had become, he knew this time together had marked him anew.

Watching him walk toward the curtain, Dinah couldn’t help but call out to him. “Shouldn’t you warn me not to blow your cover?”

Aaric leveled her a skeptical look, his emerald eyes narrowing in mockery. “Why should I? We don’t know each other, remember?”

A/N: I'm trying the OC route, so I appreciate any and all feedback! Song Inspiration: Marigolds by Andrea Bejar (acoustic version)

#aaric graycastle x oc #fourth wing fanfic #aaric graycastle x reader #fourth wing x reader #fourth wing x you #cam tauri x reader #aaric x reader #cam tauri x you

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quietstormxr · 7 months ago

Text

Found You Again

You'll Survive - Part 2

Garrick Tavis x Reader

Angst/Violence/PTSD

Minor Iron Flame spoilers

Summary: After Garrick finds you still alive, you both have to deal with the consequences of torture, the coming war, and your relationship.

Word Count: <10k

A/N: Get a beverage and get comfy, this is going to be a long one. Got a little carried away with this one, so it's going to be three parts. I have a few more scenes I want to add and didn't want to cram them all here! Hope y'all don't mind.

Part 1 - Part 3

All it takes is a moment and you are shooting up from the bed that you had apparently been laying in. A scream still tearing from your throat as you scan your surroundings frantically. There are beads of sweat pouring from your temples and you can feel your heart beating a rapid staccato that you can’t seem to control.

As you continue to heave breaths in and out you wildly search from left to right for any threats, the lingering phantom of hands holding you down ghosting across your skin.

Your eyes finally snag on another pair staring at you with agonizing sorrow. You can’t help the way you scramble back out of the bed and as far away from the figure as you can. Your brain tries to remind you this figure won’t hurt you, but you can’t seem to connect the thoughts with the remnants of your dream that felt more like reality.

Your back finally hits cold stone and that makes you turn and jump again; memories of your head being smashed into the same type of stone only days ago vivid in your mind.

As the present slowly comes into focus and your dream fades away, your heartbeat slowing to a more reasonable rhythm, you finally begin to process the room in front of you.

There’s no longer the smell of rotten earth and the metallic iron of dried blood, the floors are clean and there’s a large window showing the beginning cracks of sunlight rising from the horizon. You try to continue taking deep breaths as your gaze finally sweeps back to the pair of eyes that had you scrambling back before.

You meet the hazel gaze that shines with unshed tears and a sorrowful look on his face that you had never seen before. No one could miss the way that he is holding himself to the chair that he has been sitting in, obviously an effort not to move or scare you. You can hear the wood of the chair creaking under the pressure and his knuckles turning his pale skin even whiter.

You both stare at each other for what seems like an eternity, neither one of you speaking seeming to not want to break the spell that you’re both in.

You slowly begin to straighten yourself from the shrunken in shape you had taken when waking from your nightmare. As you do, you notice that you are no longer in your torn and shredded flight leathers you were tortured in. Now, you are in oversized training clothes that you know must be Garrick’s. Your hand moves to your hair and the strands slide through your fingers. Someone must have bathed and changed you after you were mended.

You continue to look around the room you are in and take in the way that it looks lived in and has notes of Garrick all around. There’s a tapestry over the large inner wall that has a desk in front of it and a weapons rack right next to it. You can’t help the way you notice the number of swords that are littered on the other wall making rainbow of glittering sharp weapons.

Out the corner of your eye, you can see Garrick’s form slowly move from grasping the chair with a death grip to relaxing his hands in his lap. You swallow, noting the scratch of your throat as you do. The memory of the scream you awoke to striking in your mind. You bring your hand up to your throat and tap, hoping that he will understand the gesture and get you some water.

Garrick gives you a short nod before he moves to the small table that is beside the bed. You watch as he pours a glass of water before turning back to you and slowly making his way to where you stand. Neither one of you deigns to speak as if either of you do the spell will be broken.

As he hands you the glass, you give him a curt nod before taking a few steps out of his reach. His eyes continue to look pained, and his arm falls back to his side as if in defeat.

You slowly take sips of the water trying to relish in the way the liquid quells the scratch of your throat. It doesn’t escape your notice that something that was so trivial now seems to be such a luxury. The use of your hands, a mended body, the ability to move away from someone whether a threat or not. You hold onto the glass with both hands as you continue to drink the water while walking back to the bed. You sit on the side and let your body drop back in relief of not being restrained.

Emotions hit you hard suddenly and you look at your hands noticing the way they’ve begun to tremble. You let yourself slide from the bed onto the floor carefully placing the glass at your side. As you finally make contact with the ground, you clasp your hands together trying to steady them. Leaning your head against the mattress, you can’t control the gasp that leaves your mouth as your throat constricts and tears begin to stream down your face. You continue to take gasping breaths as the tears fall and your head stays firmly planted against the mattress.

As the fog of emotion slowly begins to clear, you hear carefully measured footsteps come towards you. Turning your head slightly, you watch as Garrick comes towards you slowly. He crouches down not far from where you’ve melted into the floor, and you notice the tear streaks that mar his pale cheeks. Your gazes collide and there’s nothing but raw, charged emotion hanging in the air. If the last week had never happened, you would be laughing at the way the mountain of muscle before you had become so tentative. Gone was the bravado and over-confident air that seemed to follow him around.

“C-Ca-Can I touch you?” He questions stammering, his tone quiet and reserved.

Your mind is suddenly a cacophony of thoughts. The anger that you’d been clinging onto burning bright, the fear of anyone touching you in any way, and the undeniable want to be held close and safe by the man in front of you waging a war on every front.

“P – Please don’t.” You whisper as the fear and then anger win out over the softer emotions roiling within you.

You know that the fear you’re feeling must have leeched into your voice, because it’s almost as if you can see the heart of the man in front of you breaking as the words leave your mouth.

“What can I do?” He mumbles as he seems to waver on how exactly to move forward.

You look at him with a mix of sadness, resolve, and anger in your features before replying. “Nothing.”

The fear and helplessness you were feeling moments ago morphing into the relentless anger that you had harbored for the man sitting next to you. It’s with that spark of fire that ignites in your body that you find yourself getting up from the floor and marching towards the door.

“Wait!” Garrick calls from behind you as you go to open the door. You’re immediately met with a barrage of sounds that cause you to shrink back. Your eyes wide with pure fear, darting back and forth among the cadets that seem to be milling about wherever you are.

You immediately close the door again, your breaths coming in ragged pants as you plaster yourself to the back of the door. Terrified eyes look back up at Garrick before the questions start rapid firing in your mind.

“Wh-where are we?” The question coming out with pure confusion laced in your words. You knew you couldn’t be at Basgiath, but all those people couldn’t possibly be lieutenants.

“You’re at Riorson House in Aretia.” He says in a calm tone.

“Who are all those people?” Your brows furrow trying to make sense of everything that’s happening all at once.

“They are all the cadets that defected when Riorson and I came for Violet.” As he continues to explain, you watch as he slowly moved forward. His hands are fisted at his sides and look as if they are trying to hold him in place.

“When I finally found you again.” He continues as if the thought of getting to Basgiath for anyone but you wasn’t worth his time to dwell on. His hand starts to reach out for you of its own accord, but he finally realizes, and it falls back to his side.

As the facts start taking shape in your mind, you can’t help the confusion that seems to blanket you as well.

“Defected? Are you telling me that you took me, injured, from the little protections that Navarre does offer?” You incredulously look back at him, your eyes boring into his soul.

Garrick seems taken aback by your phrasing of the question and rage flashes in his eyes. “What protections?” His voice starts to raise slightly as the anger builds.

“Do you really think torturing you within an inch of your life is much protection? Of course, I fucking took you! I wasn’t leaving you with those sadistic fuckers.” He hisses, the switch to anger turning palpable as you see memories haunt his face.

He stops just a few steps from you and brings his face down to be level with yours. “And I would fucking do it again if it means knowing you are safe. I don’t give a shit whether you like it or not.”

Your face contorts into a sneer as the anger you felt before being taken roars back to life. But you aren’t complaining because at least the anger can drown out the fear. With that knowledge, you turn again back to the door and fling it open while Garrick tries to grab your arm, the fear you had shown him forgotten as he tries to catch up with you.

You have no idea where you are going, you are just moving down the hallway trying to get away from the man that is yelling your name. You slink through the cadets that are milling about as fast as you can, using your smaller agile frame against Garrick’s herculean form. You descend the stairs and find a door open to the left and swiftly enter trying to escape.

Unfortunately, it seems Zinhal has other plans for you today. As you suddenly come to a halt you look around and see that you’re obviously now in a training room that regrettably contains Bodhi, Xaden, and Imogen. The three of them turn to you with slight shock on their faces before you can hear Garrick’s voice burst into the room.

“Y/N.” He breathes in an exasperated breath before looking at the other three gathered as well. His eyes seeming to zero in on Bodhi.

You watch as Garrick stomps over to Bodhi with deadly intent. His uncertainty on how to handle the situation with you crumbling all the restraint left to his anger, fear, rage, and powerlessness to fix the torture you had to endure.

“You.” He growls menacingly while staring at him with a murderous gleam.

“You knew she was fucking alive and didn’t think to tell me!” He roars. “I never thought my ‘brother’ would keep something like that from me.”

Bodhi’s face falls completely and that’s when you know that you must step in. You may not be overly friendly with Bodhi, but he doesn’t deserve to be treated badly because of the spot you put him in. You walk in between the two right before Garrick goes to grab Bodhi’s collar. You push Garrick’s hand aside and look up at him with a fire dancing in your own eyes.

“I made that decision for him.” You utter coldly.

Garrick finally removes his gaze from Bodhi and looks down at you, the anger in his eyes softening in some of its sharpness.

“Bodhi told me to write you the minute he saw me land at Basgiath, but I tied his hands.” You explain with no hint of remorse. “You left me behind, all while your little pink girlfriend smirked at me in smug satisfaction. You showed your cards to me, remember?”

Garrick’s anger seems to evaporate, and his entire expression turns into regret, but this time you aren’t swayed.

“Then I went to Eltuval and found myself alone on patrol and learning that venin and wyvern were real. Alone. Something I believe you know a little about.” You add sarcastically as you gesture to the expanse of Riorson House.

Your anger at the whole situation and what you had to face alone comes rushing back. A derisive laugh bubbling up at the predicament you find yourself in.

“You left me behind, told me I would survive without you, then I was left alone on watch and became the number one target for a massive wyvern doing its own patrol of Navarre’s borders.” You revealed while the anger and level of your voice began to rise.

The expression on Garrick’s face is laughable to say the least. You watch as his regret turns to disbelief back to anger and finally lands back on regret.

“That – That’s impossible.” A female voice stammers from behind you.

You huff a humorless laugh and turn towards the voice. You narrow your eyes in a glare at the girl staring back at you in disbelief.

“Tell that to the scars on my back from the wyverns razored feathers.” You say as you stalk towards Violet with an ominous look in your eyes.

“Did you think that your little group was the only one who found themselves the victim of the cadre’s wrath? Did you think they were only after your precious Wingleader?” You spit the derision in your tone obvious as you gesture towards the brooding shadow wielder.

“You are more naïve than I thought if you believe that Colonel Aetos was only going to go after the marked ones alone.” You asserted as you walked into Violet’s space, looking down at the girl who was a few inches shorter than you.

You couldn’t help the mocking laugh that slipped past your lips when you noticed Xaden step up to her back as if you intended on hurting the girl in front of you.

“Don’t worry, Riorson. I have absolutely no intention of hurting your dear girl. I just want her to realize that you weren’t the only ones that the cadre had an issue with.” You sneered with boredom lacing your tone.

“Now if your little family gathering will excuse me.” You gesture towards all the ones gathered there making a circling motion with your hand. “I’m going to get some fresh air.”

You take three steps away before you feel a large, calloused hand wrap around your upper arm. You can’t help the way you flinch and your eyes flash at the touch.

“You can’t go out there by yourself. It’s dangerous and anything could happen to you.” Garrick explains sounding like he’s trying to reason with you. You forcefully pull your arm from his grip before turning around.

“No, see here’s where you’re wrong.” You purr with conviction while thrusting your finger into his chest forcefully. “I can do whatever the fuck I want. If I die,” you shrug your shoulders conveying your nonchalance “then so be it. At least I won’t be haunted by the nightmares any longer.”

“I will not let you put yourself in unnecessary danger.” Garrick barked blocking you from your path.

You take your time looking back directly into those hazel eyes. “You, my dear Garrick, lost your fucking privilege of caring about what I do about five months ago. Why don’t you go rut with one of the other mares in your stable and leave me the fuck alone.”

As you swiftly turn your body and continue your walk, there was no way to avoid hearing the shocked gasps at the words you said. Even though you knew you still loved Garrick, your heart was walled off to him after he became just another one of the men who continued to disappoint you.

Right before you closed the door, you couldn’t help overhearing Garrick’s loud curse and a roaring bang that you surmised must have been a punch to the nearest punching bag or possibly a wall. A small, satisfied smirk crawled across your face when you realized that you could successfully still get under Garrick’s skin.

As soon as you were outside the heavy wooden doors of the fortress, you looked down and noticed the shifting of shadows.

“Leave me the fuck alone Riorson.” You spit while stepping over them.

As you kept walking, you found yourself entering the small, reconstructed town of Aretia. You had heard stories of the burning and due to your interest in geography and history had more knowledge than your average cadet. However, you had no idea where you were going; you just knew that you needed to get away.

You continued along the path, but still noticed the wisp of a shadow that followed you. Clearly Xaden wasn’t going to let you be alone, so you knew what you would have to do to throw off your wisping tail. Without much thought, you walked into the nearest shop that was bustling with townspeople trying to do their daily shopping.

The minute you stepped in, you changed your entire appearance with the aid of Diomat’s power. You made your hair shorter and darker, your eyes a shade of sapphires you hadn’t seen anyone else have and reduced the look of your height. As soon as your looks were fully disguised, you walked back out of the shop. Taking a deep breath when you were finally away from the crowd, and you stepped into the shade of the nearest tree. Looking around for your unfortunate addition, you were happy to find that you must’ve slipped the shadows notice.

When you confirmed there was no longer a wisp following you, you proceeded to continue your walk into town.

You couldn’t help the smile that immediately lit up your face as you watched children playing and mother’s going about their days. Something about seeing this domesticity made your resolve about fighting in the coming war harden. You knew there was no way that you would let these people suffer if you didn’t have to. Especially after experiencing what torture could be doled out from your own cadre, let alone an enemy.

After walking a while, you found a small café and ordered a hot chocolate while sitting at one of the small tables. You sat there watching the calm lives of the civilians outside and continued to smile in your revelry of the small things. You were so engrossed in your own daydream that you startled when you felt a hand on your shoulder.

Looking up in a swift turn, you are surprised to find a pair of liquid silver eyes staring back at you. You couldn’t help the way you appraised the stranger. You had never seen a man with such mesmerizing eyes. You continued to stare at the man in front of you, now noticing his raven hair and warm honey skin.

“Can I help you?” You asked as you continued appraising the stranger in front of you.

“I’m sorry to bother you. But I had to ask as I was unsure if I was hallucinating. Did you change your appearance in that shop across the road?” He queried you while giving a slight tilt to his head indicating the shop you had left.

You turned a little sheepish not really knowing how much you should reveal to the man in front of you.

“I don’t mean to catch you off guard.” He continues with a placating tone. “I’m a guard at Riorson House and by the clothing, I assumed you were a rider, and obviously noticed you before the hair and eye color change.”

You shake your head in acknowledgement before giving him a reply.

“Yes, I did. I was just trying to shake a little shadow and have some time to myself.”

He nods in acceptance obviously realizing what exactly you are insinuating.

“Ah, yes. The real question is why Lieutenant Riorson is needing to follow you around.” He added pure curiosity in his face.

“If you’re asking if I’m a threat, I can assure you I’m not. After days of torture, I’m not sure how much of a menace I could be right about now.” You muse not afraid to share your misfortunes.

“So, are you the Sorrengail or Lieutenant Tavis’ interest?”

You can’t help the laugh that escapes you at the remote possibility you could be Violet Sorrengail.

“I’m not naïve enough to be Sorrengail. Besides, do you really think Riorson would let her out of his sight?” You criticized seeing that you can’t imagine how someone who was hailed at being so smart couldn’t imagine that the cadre of Navarre wouldn’t just take out anyone they saw as a threat in any way.

“So, you’re the one that Tavis thought was dead.” He surmises.

Your eyes widen slightly and then narrow in suspicion.

“And exactly how do you know that?”

He gives a small smile before continuing. “I promise I mean you no harm and I don’t report back to Riorson or Tavis if that’s what you’re worried about.”

“If that’s the case. How exactly do you know all of this? I can’t imagine that the love lives of mere lieutenants are the subject of gossip.” You can’t help but question this man that has seemingly popped up out of nowhere.

He nods in understanding and gestures asking to sit at the table that I’ve taken residence at. You offer the seat, and he immediately sits down across from you.

“You’re right in one instance. People aren’t normally interested in the love lives of the Lieutenants. However, I’m guessing you are aware of why people would be concerned with Riorson’s life.” You give a slight shift of your head confirming your understanding.

“Being that Riorson is the most important person to the Tyrrish people, it does not escape them that Tavis is his right hand. Therefore, both of their lives are heavily scrutinized from the Assembly, hence my knowledge on the subject.”

He goes on to continue to regale you with stories of both men, including Bodhi in the bunch. He takes time to explain how the Assembly learned of your existence since you were apparently a wrench in their plans. No one expected Garrick to be entangled with anything more than physical, let alone a first year.

You also learn that this man’s name is Fabien, and he has been a guard at Riorson House since about two years after the Apostasy. His family owns the café that you are currently sitting in, but they had previously been servants at Riorson House as well.

Oddly enough, you begin to let your guard down and find yourself being drawn into the grey eyes and warm personality of the man in front of you. It has been a while since you had met someone so open and willingly trusting.

You could only think that a person like Fabien would be torn down immediately at Basgiath. The sad reality that the thought even crossed your mind crashing into you.

Soon enough, the light of the sun began waning into the horizon beyond the cliffs. You looked out at the setting sun and something in the shift of your facial features must’ve given away your decision to get back to Riorson House.

“I know it’s getting late, and I imagine that you need to get back. Would you mind if I escort you back to the fortress?” Fabien asks as you both rise from the table.

“I’d hate to be a bother, especially if you weren’t planning on going back today.” You say giving him an easy out from his ask. Although you were hoping he would still want to as you were slightly unsure of how to get back to the fortress.

“I insist. I’m more than confident you can handle yourself, but I will feel better if you’d allow me to escort you.” He declares.

‘I expect you to accept his offer, Bold One.’ Diomat slithers into your mind, reminding you that she’s watching out for you as well.

‘Yes, ma’am.’ You sass back, smiling at the exasperated huff you hear down your bond.

You nod your head in agreement and push in the chair that you had been relaxing in all day. As soon as you step into the night air you can’t help the shiver that crawls up your spine, the oversized training clothes not doing much to shield from the chill of the October air. Fabien must see your discomfort because not even ten steps later, he has thrown his cloak over you and closed the middle clasp. You give him a small thankful smile before you both continue your saunter back towards the doors of the fortress.

As you walk with him, you find yourself continuing to fall into conversation and chat about anything and everything. He takes great care to point things out around the town and let you know little stories from both his childhood and the ‘three musketeers’ that ran terror around the town growing up. In return, you tell him stories of your childhood growing up on the coastline and the scuffles you got yourself into with your siblings.

As you both get to the gates of Riorson House, you can’t hold in the boisterous laugh that tears from you at a particularly funny story involving three small children and a two-tiered chocolate cake. As you round the corner, you see a tall, muscled figure pacing back and forth in front of the wooden doors. The minute the sound of your laugh touches his ears, you watch as he turns to look directly at you.

Garrick’s eyes twinkle at the sound of your laugh before his gaze follows to the person that is standing next to you. His eyes immediately harden at the man standing next to you. You watch as he strides towards you with clear purpose.

Without giving him too much attention, you turn to Fabien and go to unclasp his cloak. However, before you can undo the clasp, Fabien touches your hand stopping you.

“Please keep it.” He says while looking out the corner of his eye, obviously watching the mountain of muscle that is marching straight towards you.

“You don’t have to do that.” You go to protest, but he shakes his head.

“I know I don’t have to, but I’d like if you would.” He states. “I’d also like to see you again sometime, whenever you aren’t too busy.”

You go to respond to him, but you are cut off by a gruff voice replying before you. “She’s too busy all the time.”

You turn a glare at the man that has decided he needed to put himself between the two of you. You step around Garrick and give him a glare that he doesn’t acknowledge.

“We’ll see each other again.” You say looking at the man who has treated you as more than a beautiful annoyance all afternoon. “I’ll make sure to stop by when I get some free time. In the meanwhile, thank you so much for the wonderful afternoon, stories, and the cloak.”

Fabien gives you a slight bow and nod with his smile before he turns on his heels and you watch as he walks outside the fortress walls. You spin on your heels and head towards the doors. As you go to open the door, a large hand covers yours and turns your body to face them.

You look up at Garrick with a face of exasperation your eyes turning tired.

“How did you slip past Xaden’s shadows?” He questions.

“That’s none of your business, Lieutenant.” You snap at him.

“Why won’t you just talk to me? I’ve been sitting next to that bed for three days waiting for you to wake up. Praying to any gods who would listen to make sure you’d be alright.” He explains while running a hand through his hair.

“Will you ever give me another chance?” He says quietly.

“What chance do I need to give?” You snarl back harshly. “You made your decision and told me that I would survive without you, didn’t you? So here I am, surviving without you.”

You watch as he rakes his hand through his hair again and blows out a growl of utter frustration.

“Yes, I said that, and I was a fucking idiot.” He starts as he moves closer to you. “You don’t know how much I regretted those words the moment you mounted Diomat and left me behind. Hell, the moment they left my mouth.”

His hand rises to your face and cups the side of your jaw, his thumb rubbing lazy circles over your cheek.

“Then I flew back to Basgiath after Resson and the only bright light I could think of was your face.” A faraway look clouds his eyes as the memory fizzles inside his mind.

“When everyone was trying to play their part to make sure no one knew the truth, I kept searching formation for you. I looked up and down every row, every face looking for your eyes.” He recounts. “I was standing there trying to breathe and keep my composure so that we could sell our story. But the only thing I wanted to do was run down to your squad and ask every single person where you were.”

You take a deep breath as you stare into the worried hazel eyes that seem to dart all around your face as if cataloging every detail.

“What do you want from me Garrick?” You ask tiredly not knowing whether you’re willing to give the man in front of you anything anymore.

“You.” He says breathlessly while bringing his forehead to rest on yours. “I fucking want you.”

You can feel how tense his body is from holding himself back from rushing to crush your body to his. Every muscle in his arms seem to sing with want to move and not let go, but you aren’t convinced.

You push yourself back from him and take his hand from your face. You bring it down and let it fall limp next to his body.

“You of all people knew how many men in my life have let me down.” You reply, drawing your gaze down with the tears that are beginning to fill your eyes. You lift them back to Garrick and let him see your eyes shine with held back emotion.

“I was expecting better from you. I was expecting to be your priority, but I wasn’t. Not to mention you were keeping secrets. I feel like I don’t even know you.” You tell him as a single tear slips down the side of your face.

Garrick’s face becomes a whirlpool of emotion as your words crash around him. He knew all the ways men in your life had failed you, yet he let himself do the same.

“I was tortured because of your secrets that you didn’t see fit to tell me.” You can’t help the small shake of your head in disbelief and the haunted look of your eyes. “You knew that I would keep any secret and take it to my grave before putting anyone in danger, especially you. However, you chose to take my agency. You chose what you thought was best, with I’m sure some assistance from your friendly shadow. But, at the end of the day, you made your decisions.”

You begin to walk towards the heavy doors again before turning back towards the man that held your entire heart.

“Now it’s time for me to make my own decisions. It will be on my terms if anything else happens between us.”

As you enter the fortress, the realization that you have nowhere to go dawns on you after remembering it was Garrick’s room you woke up in. As if in answer to your question, Xaden steps out of one of doorways in the hallway in front of you. With purpose written on your features, you walk up to your previous Wingleader.

“I need a room to stay in.” You say unceremoniously to the man standing in front of you.

He looks at you with a hint of confusion on his face, before nodding his head and walking further into the fortress. You follow him and hope that you’ll be able to keep the talking to a minimum.

“Are you sure that you don’t want to stay where you are?” He asks while continuing to walk forward, though he does turn to glance back at you. “The rooms in the family wing are significantly larger than those in the barracks.”

“I’m sure.” You can’t help the terse way you respond.

Suddenly he turns and faces you. The quick way he moves and turns towards you has you retreating and running into the wall. You can feel the way that your face has twisted in fear at his movements and watch as the brooding man before you softens uncharacteristically.

“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to frighten you.” He softly says while taking a few steps back. “We’ll get you assigned a room, but you should know that Garrick isn’t going to like being separated from you after everything.”

Your eyes roll at the statement and Xaden looks at you with a sad understanding.

“Trust me when I say that both of us have said and done things in the past year that we deeply regret.” He starts in a rare moment of vulnerability from the hard man he usually is. “I’m not going to try and convince you to be with Garrick, but I do want you to know that it wasn’t Garrick’s call to leave you for War Games. It was mine.”

“I know that.” You argue. “It wasn’t the not being taken, it was the way he handled it and the words he said.”

You huff a cynical laugh before continuing. “I’m sure even Violet would admit that every girl wants the man that she’s with to show a little fight when it comes to her.”

It was then that Xaden blew out a huff of his own. “You may think that he didn’t fight for you. But you didn’t see him after he saw you in that chamber. When Aetos caught you after you fainted,” He stops shaking his head while recollecting the memory. “I’ve never seen Garrick move so fast to get to you and wrap you in his arms. When flying back here, he wouldn’t even let anyone else touch you.”

“Not to mention, you need to realize that sometimes a man makes a decision purely on the thought of keeping the woman he loves safe.” He catches me before I can open my mouth to argue back. “Whether or not she may like what that decision is. Sometimes he may prefer her to hate him if that means she’s safe.”

You look into the eyes of the man in front of you and his face is nothing but open and serious. You give him a curt nod noting your understanding before he turns back around, and you both continue down the hallway.

Good to his word, Xaden finds you a room and even though you expected to be in the barracks, your room ends up being on the floor underneath the family rooms. You thank him for helping you and close the door to your room.

You heave out a large breath before unceremoniously dropping yourself onto the bed. You turn and let your eyes drift to the ceiling of the room trying to quiet your churning mind.

______

Due to the amount of mending that you had to have after Varrish’s particularly brutal forms of torture, you were given some time off before having to join in with the rest of the cadets. However, after learning of your fate in Eltuval, you were summoned to the Assembly to explain exactly what you saw.

As you walked into the large room, you couldn’t help but notice the long table that ran the length of the room with several members lining each side. However, the thing that really took your attention was the large chair sitting slightly higher than all the rest and not just the chair, but the man lounging in it.

There was Xaden sitting in the half-burned chair, legs stretched out in front of him with a bored look on his face. And if there was any question left in your mind about where Garrick fell, it was answered today. There he was stood behind the chair with his twin swords strapped to his back, arms folded across his chest looking as if he was assessing each and every person and the threat they may pose.

A General guarding his King.

Garrick’s eyes met yours and you watched as his stance softened ever so slightly, the same way it always would at Basgiath. A sad smile sprawled across your lips as you shook your head slightly at the memory.

“Cadet L/N.” You looked up as a man with auburn curls called your name and motioned you to take a seat at the middle of the table. “We appreciate you talking to us about your experience in Eltuval. Feel free to begin whenever you’d like.”

You make your way to the seat and tentatively sit down. You heart begins to flutter in your chest and nerves begin to make you stomach tighten. You place your hands in your lap to stop them from shaking and take a deep breath to try and steady yourself.

“I’m not sure how much information that I have to share that will enlighten you more than what you already know.” You start, suddenly feeling very self-conscious with all of these older riders.

“I was given orders to patrol a specific area within the borders of our position at Eltuval. Diomat and I proceeded to the area and began our patrol as normal. About a half an hour into the watch, there was a large roar from the northwestern part of our patrol.” You take another fortifying breath before the assembly seems to fade and your eyes become your memories.

“As I looked towards the sound, blue flames erupted from the mouth of the beast. I consulted with my dragon, as I wasn’t sure what exactly I was looking at. Diomat confirmed that it was a wyvern and confirmed that I could kill it with a blade that Lieutenant Tavis had previously gifted me.” As you finish your sentence, your eyes involuntarily flick to the man in question.

“Diomat then flew towards the wyvern as it headed straight for us in return. As we made our way there, I utilized my signet to be able to get down on the wyverns back. Once there, I slammed the blade in and was able to slash through half of its neck while it flailed.”

“Regrettably, I was thrown into its razored mane before I was flung into the air. Luckily, Diomat was able to catch me, and we returned to the outpost. From there, my wounds were tended to, and I told the cadre that I was hurt from falling from Diomat’s back.” As you finish, you look around the room at the eyes staring back at you. A mix of disbelief and astonishment fixed on all their faces, all but one. Garrick is looking as if he might be sick from the recounting of your tale.

“Are you saying that you jumped on the back of a wyvern and killed it with your own hands?!?” A man with a hawkish nose barks out incredulously.

Your head immediately whips to him and your eyes narrow. “Why the hell would I lie?” You challenge the man.

“Why should we believe this tale? The whole thing sounds of fairytales.” A woman with an axe strapped to her back argues back.

“I thought venin and wyvern were fairytales, yet here we are in an Assembly room that is trying to figure out best way to beat them.” You fume as you gesture to the people sitting around the table while standing up from your seat.

“And even though I shouldn’t have to fucking qualify my story for you to believe me, how about I fucking show you.” The anger at their accusations has turned your body into a raging wildfire.

With that fire burning in your veins, you turn around and lift the back of your shirt. There’s no way to ignore the gasps of horror that leave the mouths of the people in the room. You know what they’re seeing, large scars that bisect through the part of the relic that Diomat placed on your back.

“So yes, I jumped on the back of a damn wyvern and killed it. And no, it wasn’t a fucking fairytale.” After you finish speaking you bust out of the room, the fire in your veins still burning brightly.

You know from experience there are only two ways to burn the fire licking at you. You decide that its been too long since you’ve seen Diomat and find yourself immediately making a beeline for the large front doors. Just before you are about to grab one of the handles and swing the door open, a large hand wraps around your arm.

You are immediately tugged around and enveloped in large arms. Your anger is still burning hot on the surface so thankfully the fear of being restrained hasn’t bubbled up.

“Gods.” Garrick breathes as he holds you tightly. “It’s so much worse than I thought it was.”

“What did you think I was making it up too?” You huff out cynically. He moves one of the hands from the hug and pulls back slightly to grab your chin in his hand.

“Of course, I didn’t. I was just hoping it wasn’t as bad as I thought. But apparently, it was worse.” He answers his eyes serious with a hint of sadness. The next thing you know he’s huffing out a small laugh. “I don’t know whether I want to be angry with you for risking your life so recklessly or just be in wonder at how astonishing you are.”

Now it was your turn to scoff. “You can be both, but I need to get out of here.” With that you turn from the man and make your way outside of the fortress.

You’re thankful that Diomat shares your mind, because without you even having to ask, she touches down in the large courtyard upsetting the guards and garden below. Without caring, you mount your dragon and immediately take to the skies.

After a few hours, your lack of flight leathers begins to wear on you as you become colder and colder.

‘Diomat, how close to town can you get me?’ You ask your dragon hoping that you can finish of this tiring day with a warm cup of hot chocolate.

‘I can take you to the edge of the woods. Due to the civilians, they ask the dragons not to get too close and scare them. If you walk the path, then you should be at the town in about ten minutes from what Chradh says.’ She confirms down your bond.

You look down giving the back of your dragon’s neck a raised eyebrow as you hear her mention Chradh.

‘Why are you speaking with Chradh all of a sudden?’ Your eyes narrowing in suspicion.

You hear a huff of amusement in your mind before she replies. ‘I suppose because his rider keeps pestering him about my whereabouts, and therefore yours as well.’

You can’t help the snarking laugh that you let out while Diomat begins to descend into the woods. ‘Well how about you just let him know you’re going back to the valley and leave me out of this one.’

As you begin walking away, Diomat huffs a blast of steam at you before nudging you with her maw. You glance back at her and give a wide smile.

As you begin your walk into town, the anger seems to bleed out of you again as you enjoy the day-to-day activities of the people around you. Soon enough, you find yourself outside of the café again and a smile breaks across your face as you see Fabien wave you in from the window.

“Come in.” He says as he steps out from behind the counter. “I didn’t expect to see you in here so soon.”

“I didn’t anticipate a visit today, but I’m in need of a warm beverage.” You admit. “Preferably, one of those delicious hot chocolates.” You say sheepishly.

A genuine smile breaks across Fabien’s face. “Of course, that’s no problem at all.”

You watch as Fabien disappears behind the counter to make your hot chocolate. Settling into the chair, you let your head fall to stretch your neck muscles from the flight and take a deep breath. Suddenly you feel someone tapping on your shoulder and you go to move your head expecting to see Fabien looking back at you.

Looking up, you are met with a pair of light green eyes. The snarl that formed on your lips was purely instinctive. Why couldn’t this little group just leave you alone when you wanted to be alone?

“Why can’t you all just go the fuck away?” You sighed exaggeratedly.

“Because you are going to stay seated and listen whether you like it or not.” You can’t help but roll your eyes at the commanding tone that Imogen takes.

“Well, I don’t like it. So how about I don’t listen.” You were in no mood to listen to anything the girl in front of you had to say.

“Look, I’m not here for you. I’m here because I love Garrick.” You can’t help the way your eyes widen and look back at Imogen when she finishes her statement.

“Oh-kay.” You say unsure on how to proceed. “We aren’t together, so I’m unsure as to why you need to talk to me about him. If you want to tell him you love him, shouldn’t you be saying that to him.”

Imogen rolls her eyes at you while beginning to sit in the seat across from yours.

“The bastard is more than aware of my feelings.” She replies tersely. “But that doesn’t matter when he only has eyes for you.”

“I know that Xaden has already talked to you.” She goes on to explain and you quirk your eyebrow at the girl in front of you. “Don’t look so surprised, we all talk. Besides, its time to get off your high dragon and forgive the man.”

“Excuse me.” You say incredulously. You honestly can’t believe Imogen would have the gall to say that considering she wants to be with Garrick.

“Look, I get it. He was an asshole. Welcome to Garrick and his best friend Xaden for that matter. If you wanted the sweet one, you should’ve gone for Bodhi.” She continues. “I know Xaden told you that Garrick was doing what he thought was best, but it wasn’t only that.”

“He was doing what he wished he could’ve done for his own family. His mother. He’s always pushed women away because of losing his mom, but you somehow broke through that barrier. You’re the only girl I’ve ever seen him care about as more than just a friend or good fuck.”

“I’m not saying you should give him a free pass.” Imogen admits. “But I am telling you to let him in. Let him grovel and work for you. He needs that, needs you, just like Riorson needs Violet.”

You let your gaze bore into Imogen’s and see the hard set of her face and eyes, even though she can’t hide the flash of pain. In that moment, you can’t help but hate the whole situation that seems to have formed between the three of you.

“Imogen, I’ll give what you’ve said some thought.” You say seriously. “But I want you to know I am sorry. I never meant to show up and take anything from you, regardless of if you believe me or not.”

Pale green eyes look straight at you and a sad smile crosses her face fast before it falls, and she moves to get up.

“Don’t throw away a chance at happiness over some heated words.” She urges before sharply turning and walking out of the doors.

As she walks off, Fabien shows up with your hot chocolate and a small smile. You thank him and take a sip relishing the way the warmth of the drink seems to flow through your body.

As you finish your drink and bid Fabien good night, you begin your walk back to the fortress and let Imogen’s words ruminate. Between her and Xaden, you could feel the anger in your heart for Garrick lessening day by day.

As soon as you arrive back at the fortress, you look up to see the man with the auburn curls from the assembly looking back at you.

“Ah, just who I wanted to see.” He says and you look around checking to see if anyone else is there.

“Yes, Cadet L/N. I’m speaking to you. I just have a few more questions to ask.” He explains as he beckons you back into the same room you were in earlier.

You look around and notice that now you are the only two in the room that was previously filled. He turns back around to look at you and motions to a chair.

You sit as he begins to speak. “I’m Lieutenant Colonel Aisereigh. I know we didn’t get to introductions earlier.”

“No, he’s my brother, Brennan Sorrengail.” A female voice breaks in from the doorway. You watch as the man in front of you rolls his eyes as Violet moves into the room as well.

“Either way, I wanted to ask you about your signet.” Brennan continues. “You said that you used it to drop onto the wyvern but didn’t explain what exactly it was.”

You look around at both people in the room and can’t help the uncertainty you feel at revealing your secret, even Carr wasn’t privy to all that your signet could do.

“I can change my appearance.” You begin to explain. Both of the faces in front of you widen in shock as you begin to detail the fact that you can change your entire body and clothing to replicate anyone.

“With encouragement from Diomat, I – uh – I shifted to look like a venin I remembered from a book that was read to me growing up.” You say tentatively.

“Tha -That’s incredible.” Brennan speaks up after the shock begins to wear off. “And the wyvern didn’t think anything of you being on top of it while shifted to look like a venin?”

You shrug your shoulders. “I don’t think so, but I wasn’t there long before I sliced the blade into it.”

As you look back at the man in front of you, you can’t help as you watch the gears in his head turn through his eyes.

“Could you show us?” He asks curiously.

“I can.” You reply in turn. “But – “

“But, what?”

“You have to remember that it’s me and not an acutal venin.” You croak worried that you’re about to be seen as a threat.

“Understood.” He confirms as Violet goes to stand next to him.

After taking a long deep breath, you reach for Diomat’s power and let it flow through your body. You let your mind drift to the illustration in the book and feel as your fingers tingle. When you look back up, you see two sets of eyes as wide as saucers and know what it must look like to the people standing in front of you.

Before anyone has time to speak, the door to the Assembly room opens and you can sense two people have entered.

“Violence, I –“ The voice stops and suddenly you feel yourself being hoisted up by your throat, your hands reflexively going up to try and grab at the obstruction. However, when you try, there’s nothing to grab onto and you’re left kicking and flailing your arms. As the fear of being held begins to grip you, the hold on your power leaves and you’ve changed back into yourself.

“Xaden! Stop!” You hear Violet shout a second before you are dropped to the floor. You try to take a breath, but the fear has you in a cloud you can’t escape. You hear footsteps rushing towards you as you continue to take gasping breaths, your hands wrapping gently around your neck.

“Y/N. Love, are you alright?” You shrink back as inescapable fear comes barreling in and your eyes blow wide. You look back into hazel eyes, seeing pure concern laced there.

After what feels like hours, your heartrate finally slows again, and you can take full breaths. Looking up, the room around you feels frozen in time. Looks of horror and sorrow gracing each person’s face.

“I’m so sorry, Y/N.” Xaden breathes quietly as if afraid to speak. You sit there with your hand around your neck and stare straight back at the man not really registering his words.

“I – I’m going to go upstairs.” You croak through your abused vocal cords. You try to slowly get up on your feet and as soon as you’re standing, you feel your legs giving out. Before you can fall to the ground, you can feel a strong arm grip you around your waist.

Looking to your side, you see Garrick looking back at you cataloging each blossoming bruise on your neck. His brows furrow as his concern grows. You can feel the bruising already and know that they must be turning a mottled shade of purple.

Before you can think much more, you find yourself being scooped up into Garrick’s arms as his face turns hard and he begins walking up the stairs. Even though you are tense, you try to let yourself settle into his arms. You close your eyes for a second and before you know it, you can feel Garrick dropping to a bed with you still cradled close.

“Why does it always seem that my family and I are always hurting you?” He rumbles lowly while dropping his head.

“It wasn’t Xaden’s fault.” You rasp, your voice feeling like its grating against sandpaper.

Garrick looks back at you and brings his hand to your chin, tilting your neck up. Soon the blue green of his hazel eyes disappears, and they become a molten shade of gold, hard and angry.

“I’m going to fucking kill him.” He seethes as you watch him catalog the bruises along your neck. A sad smile blooms on your face and you bring your hand to his jaw, moving his face to look directly at you. You shake your head no before swallowing hard to speak.

“It wasn’t his fault. I knew it would be a risk to show them. I just didn’t think anyone would walk into the room before I could change back.” You finish before you end up coughing trying to coat the damage to your vocal cords.

As you finish, you feel the way Garrick’s face nuzzles into the hand that is still placed along his jaw. You look up to see his eyes closed as if he is trying to drink up every moment. A lost man wandering the desert for a drink of water.

Something about the gesture causes a crack in the wall that you’d built around your heart for the man that still has you cradled close. You realize that this is the first time you’ve seen the worry, tension, and stress melt from his face since War Games.

A sudden knock at the door brings you both out of the moment. Garrick looks down at you and as if he can’t resist, brings his lips to the side of your head and gives you a quick kiss. He then sets you down gently on the bed and goes to open the door.

“I thought Y/N could use some mending.” You hear a male voice call from the other side of the door. You watch as Garrick nods his head slightly before opening the door and letting Brennan in. Brennan shuffles in and with sad eyes looks at the bruises across your neck.

“Would it be okay with you if I mend you?” Brennan asks tentatively. You give a curt nod before he is standing before you and you tilt you head back for him to get a better view of your neck. You shut your eyes tight as the tears silently flow down the side of your head, the burning sensation of mending filling your head.

Almost as soon as it begins, the pain seems to lessen slowly, little by little. You finally blink open your eyes and slowly lift your head back.

“Better?” Brennan questions as he rises back up to his full height.

“Much. Thank you.” You confirm.

“I know after what just happened, you may want to say no.” Brennan starts. “But I think it would be beneficial for everyone to get the visual of what they may be dealing with on the battlefield.”

You know where he’s going with his comment and your immediate response is to shake your head. However, wading through the panic, the logic starts to win out and you take a deep breath.

“Would you mind doing the same thing when most of the Lieutenants and all the cadets are present? The Assembly all agrees that it would be best for everyone to have a real feel of the enemy.” Brennan finishes in a tactician’s voice.

You go to open your mouth, but you’re immediately cut off.

“NO. You can fuck right off if you think she’s going to do that again.” Garrick growls while stepping into Brennan’s space. “Did you not just see what fucking happened? And then you want to put her in a room with untrained cadets who don’t even know how to use their signets and hope someone doesn’t have a bad reaction.”

Undeterred by Garrick’s reaction, Brennan calmly responds to the threat in front of him. “I understand your reservations Garrick and hers as well, which is why Bodhi and Mira will be on hand to make sure that no one responds the same way.”

You stand from the bed you were seated on and walk up to the two men that are still looking at each other trying to calculate who is going to make the next move. Instinctually, you raise your hand and place a comforting hand on Garrick’s forearm. You can’t help but feel the tense set of his muscles and crack a soft smile to reassure the hulking man.

“Gare.” You say and his eyes immediately dart to you as you use the nickname for the first time in months. “Brennan is right. Everyone needs to see what they’re going to be facing. It’s better than sending everyone out without having any idea.”

Garrick’s eyes search yours looking for any hesitation, seeming to hope that you aren’t really considering this. Immediately his shoulders sag when he realizes that you’re serious.

“I’ll just need some forewarning to get myself in the right headspace, so maybe not the next couple of days.” You confirm with Brennan as he shakes his head in agreement.

“You’ll wait until I’m back here.” Garrick asserts as his eyes dart back and forth between you and Brennan. “You’ll do it after I’m back from patrol. She isn’t going to do it without me being present.”

You roll your eyes at his protective demands but you’re grateful that he’ll be there, if only for a sense of safety.

“That can work. We will do it during a battle brief class and will catch the lieutenants while they are switching patrols.” Brennan affirms while he begins to walk towards the door.

You both watch as Brennan leaves and closes the door behind him. Garrick immediately moves forward to you lifting your chin to check for any lingering bruising.

“I’m fine.” You say quietly to try and quell the anxiety burning in his eyes.

“I’ll be the judge of that.” He quips back.

“You do realize that we’re both about to be thrown into a war that most likely will take both of our lives, right?” You sass back, getting irritated with his hovering.

“Not if I can fucking help it.” He grumbles at you. You snort and roll your eyes at the over-confident man that he’s turned into again.

“Promise me you won’t do that again, unless absolutely necessary.” The earnestness in his eyes a plea for you to listen. “I don’t want you to be a victim just because someone can’t decipher you from friend or foe.”

You sigh and let your gaze soften. “You don’t think I already know that shifting myself to look like a venin is dangerous? You can ask Brennan or Violet, but I was hesitant with them both before I did it. And what followed just proved why my theory was correct.”

“You of all people should know that I’m smarter than that. I wouldn’t shift into that form unless absolutely necessary. Brennan just asked to see why the wyvern didn’t react to my landing on its back, so I showed them.”

Realization dawning on him seems to do nothing to quell the fire in his eyes. Fire to protect and shield evident on every line of his face. You realize that no words seem to be cracking through the thick skull of the man in front of you, so you utilize your best weapon, your touch.

You bring your hands to his face, cupping each side and rubbing soothing circles on his stubbled cheeks. He takes a deep sighing breath and his gaze bores deep into you.

“I don’t think you understand how terrified I am of the actual reality of your death.” He divulges as both of his arms snake around your waist tugging you to him. “Ever since I laid eyes on you again, I wake up every day busting through my door to search for just a glimpse of your form.”

“Having to face a reality again where you aren’t there is the absolute worst thing I can honestly imagine.” He brings his forehead to yours leaning in and breathing a deep, calming breath.

A sad smile begins to crawl across his face. “And being so close to you, but far away at the same time is eating at me more than you know.”

You give him a sad smile back in return. “I know.” You whisper, your walls cracking even more with the tenderness and vulnerability seeping from Garrick’s every fiber.

“I need you to know that I’m working on it.” You tell him while bringing your hands down to grab his own, rubbing gentle circles on his knuckles. “We aren’t there yet, but I can promise you the more you let me in, the more you show up for us, then eventually maybe we can get back to before.”

Garrick’s eyes search yours, probing for an alternate meaning. You just look back at him with the honesty you feel at his words. You’re unsure of what you’re looking for to be able to let him completely in again, but you know that you just aren’t in the right space at this moment.

__________

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