#Chradh

[quietstormxr]

Priority

Garrick Tavis x Reader

Summary: Anon Request: You thought you were Garrick's world, until Xaden ordered Violet's protection and that always seemed to take priority.

A/N: Mentions of torture, violence, spoilers for FW, small OS spoiler, angst

Word Count: 9k

Waking up to the bitter scent of healing herbs and the blinding white of the infirmary is not what you expected when you had gone to bed three days ago.  Eyes adjusting to the lighting, you took stock of your limbs and tested each and every one. Curling your fingers and toes, rolling your wrists and ankles, moving your head from side to side, but when you went to pick up your legs, the phantom pain came rushing back in fast and sharp. 

A moan escaped your lips unbidden as you tried to push down the reminder of the two lieutenants who had used you as their personal punching bag. This wasn’t the first time you’d been interrogated for RSC, but it was definitely the worst. And you knew there was something more to it than just RSC because you had been on your own. For three days, you were held captive, beaten, bruised, and broken all for what, you didn’t know. Or at least you think it was three days, but pain and mending seem to blend together when you have nothing else to focus on.

Finally opening your eyes fully, you look to the end of the bed and expect to see a familiar pair of hazel eyes staring back at you. Instead, you are met with an empty chair. 

Brows furrowing, you slowly hoist yourself to a sitting position to take a better look at the room around you. It is there and then that your heart absolutely shatters. Reality of everything slamming into you in a way that you never thought possible.

There’s no mistaking that no one had been in to see you. The area usually meant for visitors still as pristine as usual and no furniture out of place. But before you let yourself spiral, you make a promise to wait to confirm with the healers themselves. 

As if answering your silent call, a light blue uniform peaks around the door and comes toward you. 

“I’m glad to see you’re finally awake my dear.” A comforting smile breaks across the older woman’s face causing you to give her one in return. 

“Just need to check over a few things with you and then you can be on your way.” She continues her tone sweet, but actions clinical.

Before you can decide the better of it, the words have left your mouth. “Can I ask if anyone has come to see me while I’ve been in here?”

Sadness creeps into her eyes and the look confirms your suspicion before she even speaks. You give a slight shake of your head and tilt it up to try and stop the tears that are beginning to threaten. Pools of water coat every inch of your eyelids, but you refuse to close them and let a single tear fall. Not now at least. You only let your fragile heart break into pieces and know there isn’t enough glue in the world to possibly put it back together anymore.

Before long the healer has given you a few pain tonics and confirmed you can head back to your room. You take the bag and throw your torn and bloodied flight jacket over your arm and head back towards the riders quadrant hoping you can avoid everyone. 

Zinhal however decides that isn’t to be your luck. As you turn onto the landing for the second-year floor, the last person you wanted to see is standing right in front of you. A smile on his face has his dimple popping as he looks at you after pausing his conversation with Bodhi. 

Emotions swirl and you’re unsure if you want to punch him in the face or rip out his heart, just like he just did to yours. The hurt settling into your heart and dragging it to the pit of your stomach like a heavy weight.

Taking a deep breath as every piece of your shattered heart jostles against your chest, you look straight forward showing no emotion and head straight to your door. 

Before you can make it all the way to your room, the mountain of muscle that usually had your heart racing stands in front of you. Your eyes slowly rise and look back at the man who was your entire world. The dimpled smile still plastered on his face, he steps forward to take your hand and you immediately step back and avert your gaze.

“Hey.” He has the audacity to put his hand under your chin, coaxing you to look up at him. “I’ve been looking for you.”

At those words you let out a sardonic scoff. Clearly the cretin in front of you has no idea what he just said and everything you just experienced.

“Where have you been over the last few days?” Your voice is dry and void of emotion, but you still need the answer. 

He looks at you and furrows his brows before responding. “You know I was helping Xaden with the blades and saddle for Sorrengail. I’ve been in the forge with him.”

“Ah.” It’s the only thing you have to say to the man in front of you. Pulling your face from his hand, you sidestep him and begin walking to your room. 

Without turning around, you call out to make sure he won’t follow you. “I’m tired. I’m going to bed early. I’ll see you later.”

As soon as the words are out of your mouth, you shut your door behind you and lock it. Without hesitation, you pull out your book on wards and immediately start reweaving the ones you have. You pull every ounce of control you have left to change your wards to only allow yourself through your door. There is no doubt in your mind that Garrick will have a shock when he tries to come in, but at this point, you don’t care. Bitterness settles into your heart crawling like vines between your ribs with deep roots weaving between every bone.

Setting the last piece of power in place, you let yourself break. Sliding to your knees, every possible sound is drowned out by the sounds of your sobs.  You let your head hit the floor as you break apart. Your body unable to even hold itself up. Tears streaming in a torrent down your face and your breathing turning rapid and irregular. You try, but it’s impossible to control the shaking of your body with the violent sobs racking your heart.

It isn’t until you wake the next morning that you realized you never even made it to your bed and sobbed on the floor until the exhaustion tore you apart. Rising, you go to the mirror and look back at the girl staring at you in the reflection.

The eyes that greet you are puffy and bloodshot, but there is a vacant look where there used to be a spark of life. There is no brightness to the color of your skin, every ounce of sunlight seemingly bleached from your complexion. Purple bruises look as if they are indented under your eyes. The color of your irises once so vivid now muted and dull, empty and haunted. 

Closing them, you breathe in the heartbreak that has filled every pore of your skin. The breath feeling like its traveling through the broken glass of your lungs, sharp and unrelentingly painful. You know there is no way you can show the devastation you’re feeling, not in this quadrant, and not to all the people who told you that you were just another conquest. With a heaving sigh, you head to the bathing chamber and pray to the gods that you can wash away the grief as best you can and put on the face of a warrior. 

Though as the water begins to heat your cold skin, you feel the warm tide of anger rise with it. A fury buried deep beneath your heart begins to consume everything. Thoughts you had buried for so long burrowing deep in your very core. You finish dressing and immediately make your way back to your room and dress for the day, every movement sharp and harried. 

Putting on your tight-fitting training leathers, you tie your hair up close to your head and pin it in place. There’s no mistaking the blaze that has taken over your eyes a vibrant fire dancing in the previously muted color, dismissing the vacant look from before. Without waiting any longer, you tear your door open and begin the slog to the training room.

Your footsteps are heavy, thudding loudly against the stone floor as you march yourself towards the nearest punching bag. Each step is another strike of anger taking a bite out of your already tattered heart. The fire of your anger laid thick into the stones of the fortress.

“Feisty and wallowing today, are we?” The snarky question comes from the last female you wanted to see. 

You don’t give her the satisfaction of a response as you continue pushing past her down the corridor. At least you didn’t think you would, until you find yourself turning around and looking at her with Bodhi now next to her.

“He’s all yours Cardulo. I’m done with all of you.” Your voice drips venom, though if either one of them knew you well enough, they would hear the betrayal and sadness seeping through every syllable. 

Not taking another second to register what she could possibly reply, you immediately keep walking. Making your way into the gym, you quickly take up a spot at the nearest punching bag. Not bothering with wraps, you swing with every ounce of emotion you can possibly displace. White hot pain splits up your knuckles, but you relish in it as it replaces the agony tied around your heart.

Unsure of how long you’ve stood there delivering punches to the bag with all the force you can muster, you are startled when a large shadow appears behind you.

“What did that punching bag do to you?” There’s no mistaking the tease in his voice and it only fuels the fire within you.

“Fuck off, Tavis.” You spit to the man that is hovering over your shoulder. 

As you go to throw another wild punch, your eyes fly up when your fist is intercepted by the aggravating man’s large hand. 

“What’s gotten into you?” Garrick questions and his audacity to ask has you pulling back you hand as quickly as you can. 

“It’s none of your business. In fact, I’m no longer your business. Why don’t you go back to protecting your duke and precious charge and leave me the hell alone.” The rancor in your tone is obvious as you immediately twist away and head to the door. 

Before you can push it open, a gust of wind pushes you against the wall, taking the breath from your lungs. Looking up, hazel eyes are staring down at you mixed between disbelief and anger.

“You aren’t just going to say that and walk away. Tell me what the fuck is going on.” You can’t help the sarcastic laugh that falls from your lips.

“No.” Every bit of defiance is burning in your limbs, and you refuse to say anything more to the man who can’t seem to spare a minute of his day for you. Garrick stands there his eyes searching yours, though you know there is nothing but anger and emptiness behind your gaze. Your lungs begin burning as the fury rushes through your body.

His hand comes up to your face as if he wants to comfort you and you instantly slap it away. Garrick’s eyes flare at the action and you feel a slight satisfaction in the way the gold in his eyes seems to turn to worry. There isn’t any reason to worry though, not anymore, you think to yourself as you boldly stare back at him. 

“What happened?” Garrick’s tone has softened as he’s realized that there’s more to your actions than just simple aggravation. 

“If you have to ask, then you aren’t paying attention.” You snap; your tone refuses to soften after how many times this man has left you wondering your importance.

“Please tell me. I can’t fix anything if I don’t know where I went wrong.” The pleading in his voice tries to crack through the hurt that’s been living in your mind for months, but it just isn’t enough anymore.

“At this point, there isn’t anything to fix. You have your priorities and I’m not one of them. So, think of this as a boon. You now have more time to focus on your more important duties, Section Leader.” The sharpness of your voice cuts like a blade as you lay the final strike to your relationship. 

You watch as his gaze cracks, the hard exterior he always wears fractures and shows you the broken man he is becoming at your words. Part of your heart wants to reach out and comfort him, but the harder part of you, tired of being left behind wins. 

Taking advantage of his shock at your words, you quickly leave the gym, leaving the man that you used to think was your everything behind. The future that you had deigned to let run through your mind nothing but tattered shreds of a painting that was never allowed to form.

A few days later, you open your door, and your breath catches as you see Garrick’s frame standing outside, hands braced on either side of the threshold and a wild look behind his eyes. 

“What do you want Tavis?” Your impatience is on full display as you take in the mussed look of the man in front of you, the complete reverse of his usual calm and poised demeanor. His curls are wilder than normal, showing how many times he’s run his hands through them and there is no mistaking the pallor of his skin and sunken state of his eyes. 

“Why can’t I get into your room anymore?” He breathes as if it is the most urgent question he has. 

“Simple.” You reply, your tone remaining cool and detached. “We aren’t together any longer, so there is no need for you to have access to my room.”

His hand moves to reach for you, but he immediately recoils at the wards that encase your door.

“Let me in, please.” The pleading in his voice and eyes would’ve cracked your resolve once, but now it just steels your heart. Though it’s impossible to completely dismiss the sweep of your stomach.

“No. You lost that privilege.” You refuse to let him claw his way back in, tired of always feeling second best. “Why don’t you go crawl back to Xaden, maybe he’ll let you in with him and Violet, because I’m done.”

As if caught off guard, he backs up a step leaving enough room for you to stride out and begin down the corridor.  

“Wait.” His hand wraps around your wrist as you finally make your way out to the courtyard. “What is that supposed to mean?”

You scoff at his question but turn around and look him in the eyes with every ounce of disappointment you’ve ever felt. 

“Did you know I was in the infirmary a week ago?” You watch as his eyes blow wide at the revelation, but all it does is fuel your rage.

“Precisely. Do you know why I was there? Oh, that’s right, you didn’t even know I was there so why would you know the reason?” You continue as you stalk towards the man. Even though he towers over you, the shadow of your bitterness is taller than any height he has on you.

“Are you alright?” He has the audacity to blurt as he looks your body up and down looking for injuries. The laugh that barrels out of you is nothing but cynical.

"Obviously.” You sneer. “No thanks to the man that supposedly loves me.” You don’t miss the way he flinches at your words.

Another sarcastic huff leaves you as you continue. “I was tortured by two lieutenants – alone - for three days, and in the infirmary for an entire day after that. But did the man that claims I’m his whole world show up?”

“No!” The roar that leaves you is louder than you expected, but your anger has exploded, and you can no longer keep it contained. Continuing to stalk into his space, you jab your finger into his hard chest.

“And I can see by the look on your face you didn’t even know.” Your bitterness is on full display now. “I always knew your allegiance was to Riorson and now by extension, Sorrengail. But I never thought it would be at the cost of even knowing I was fucking missing.”

“So, yes, this is the end of our road Garrick. Feel free to sow your fucking oats with anyone in the stables of Basgiath. I’m done. Finished. I refuse to be put last in the list of priorities for the man who claims that I’m his whole world.”

“I didn’t know.” The words leave his lips in the barest whisper as his stunned silence continues. 

“How would you when you’re constantly following Xaden like his loyal pet? And now Violet. Sure, every single marked one has her on their radar, but at what fucking cost? When do any of you get to have your own lives?” The control on your words has completely left you as you continue to barrage the man in front of you with every ounce of bitterness in your heart. “I understand you owe him everything, but is it at the expense of having a life yourself? At what point do you get to make someone else your world? When do you get to live for yourself?”

You’ve never seen the man in front of you speechless, but it seems like you have rendered his tongue from his mouth at his continued silence. You shake your head as you begin to step back from him. 

“Maybe this will help you in the long run, but no one is going to stay when they constantly must play second fiddle, even though a man claims you’re everything to him. Perhaps in another life we could’ve been happy, but I’m tired of always being your last priority.”

With that you let your feet carry you away from the man that you thought was your forever. You head to the flight field and only hope that you can outfly your own emotions. 

Weeks pass and you don’t miss the glances that Garrick is always throwing your way. You have done your best to put distance between the both of you and being in a different wing, it works, for the most part. Every time your name is called to the mat, you don’t miss the way Garrick steps up and watches your every move. 

In one particularly brutal match, you don’t miss the way that he goes to step in when you take a brutal punch to face. With blood spilling from a cut to your cheekbone, you turn away and stand on the other side of the mat an empty look on your face. 

Trying to get in and out of battle brief without getting trapped by him becomes almost impossible. It’s as if he has become a sentinel at the door and refuses to move until you go in and out. On one particular day, the short fuse on your temper has been tested all day and it takes every ounce of control you possess not to rip into him as you try to get into the class. The minute it’s over, you are the first one out the door before Garrick can even blink. 

The rawness of the day has taken every ounce of your control, so you find yourself walking out to the river in a bid to find a least a little slice of solace in this tumult of a life you’ve found yourself in. Sitting in the tall grass near the bank of the Iakabos, your head falls back on one of the stones and your eyes close relishing in the warmth of the sun on your face.

You let your mind wander as you try to let the warm glow of the setting sun and calming flow of the water become the only sounds and feelings left.

Unfortunately, it’s short-lived when you hear heavy footfalls behind you. Turning, your senses rise when you can’t see anyone behind you, but there is no mistaking the way the hairs on the back of your neck begin to stand at attention. 

“I know you’re there.” You call out to the copse of trees behind you, heartbeat erratic at what you aren’t sure is a threat or not.

In the next few seconds, your fear turns into annoyance as you register the person who has broken your solitude. 

“I’m not interested in company, Durran. Least of all from any of Garrick’s loyalists.” You snap in irritation, turning back to face the river.

Bodhi continues his trek undeterred by your words, if the sounds of his footfalls are any indication. Aggravation begins to peak as Bodhi stops next to you and joins you to sit on the forest floor. You let out a heavy sigh, laden with annoyance before turning your head to look at the man sitting next to you.

Silence stretches as you turn your head back towards the river and watch as the sun makes its final arc before setting.

“Why are you here?” There’s no way to hide the exasperation in your voice, tired of feeling like the one that always has to back down from your own anger. 

Bodhi slowly turns his face to you, as if he’s just registering your presence for the first time. But it’s the sad smile on his lips that has your own expression faltering. 

“I think you know why I’m here.” Bodhi finally pipes up, though his voice is subdued. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen Garrick fall apart like this.”

His tone does nothing to quell the nerves that have seemed to bundle in your stomach, though you narrow your eyes in suspicion. 

“Garrick is a big boy. I’m sure he’ll be just fine. He just needs to find an open bed and he’ll be right as rain.” Your anger flaring at the possibility of this conversation.

Bodhi hums in acknowledgement of what you’ve said, though his entire posture remains in an unusual state of sadness.

“You’ve inserted yourself into a family of sorts, you know.” He continues, now glancing out towards the river, his composure turned thoughtful. “After the apostasy, we became brothers. The group of us clinging to each other to hold on to a sense of normalcy.”

“Though, Xaden took most of the burden. Which in turn, I suppose you could say, made him our de facto leader, not that he wasn’t before that.” Bodhi’s head falls slightly and begins to shake. “We’ve always let him deliver the orders. Let Xaden command us – but something you said to Garrick must’ve hit him hard.”

“He came to me the day after he tried to get into your room and failed.” He continues matter-of-factly. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen Garrick so worked up. Sure, he teases and ruffles people’s feathers, but I don’t think he’s ever had someone put him in his place so well. Never had someone to put things into perspective.”

You turn and look at Bodhi again, contemplation taking over your own features. “I like to think I’ve been patient. That I’ve been understanding, because I know about everything that has happened to your families. But I refuse to be the last priority for someone that claims to love me.”

At this point Bodhi turns and looks at you, the sad smile gracing his features again. “I know. And so does Garrick. You see the issue is not that you’re wrong. Because gods, even Garrick knows that you’re more than right. It’s really that this is the first time any one of us in Xaden’s circle has ever had to confront it.”

A dry chuckle leaves his lips. “I’m sure you’re aware that Xaden’s close circle isn’t known for their stellar relationship skills.”

You can’t help the sardonic huff that leaves you at the comment. 

“So that means you’ll also realize that you were the first one to push through the ranks and become the first outsider in our mismatched family.” Bodhi leans in and gives you a knock into your shoulder. “The first one to really stay that is.”

“I’m not sure your fearless leader would agree with that.” You murmur with a raised brow.

Bodhi’s nose scrunches, trying not to show feelings about his cousin. “He’s not exactly the person you should gauge that from.”

You scoff again and Bodhi gives you a knowing smile of his own. 

“But before you, there wasn’t anyone that any of us needed to prioritize outside of our own circle. Hell, most of the time we don’t even prioritize our own selves if there is something that Xaden demands.” You hum in acknowledgment knowing that you’ve seen that yourself.

“And you know Garrick, loyal to a fault. If someone asks, he’s there, possibly eating you out of house and home, but always there.” You both snicker at the mention of Garrick’s insatiable appetite. 

“Knowing that, you should know how torn up he is. Not only did he fail to know you were missing and hurt, but he let you fall through the cracks. Honestly – he’s probably pacing in his room right now beating himself over all the cracks that he created himself.” Bodhi continues, your chin drops to your upturned knees, and you let yourself rest on them. 

“I needed more than words.” You murmur quietly, tired of holding back everything. “I wanted him to show up for me. To show that I wasn’t last on his list for the day.”

“You’re right.” Bodhi agrees as he begins to stand. “It’s up to you if you are willing to listen to him or give him a chance at all to explain. But I wanted you to know that prioritization of our partners is something we will all need to learn, maybe even the hard way of losing the one we love. Though at the end of the day, we’re going to war, and no one knows if they are going to come home the next day – even Xaden needs to realize that.”

“And yes, Xaden is important to a lot of us, and we love him and the Sorrengail situation has added complications on top of everything. However, we can’t continue to exist on only protecting him and his interests over every relationship in our own lives.” Bodhi reaches his hand out and you bring yours up, allowing him to pull you to your feet as well. “If we stand any chance at happiness, we need to stand our ground for our own partners too.”

“So even if you never reconcile with Garrick, thank you. Thank you for saying what needed to be said, for vocalizing something we all need to realize.” With that Bodhi begins to walk back to the citadel. 

You begin to follow after him, but let yourself linger, taking the time to try and absorb every single word. 

‘Perhaps the cousin should be the leader. He seems to understand you humans better.’ You let out a snort at Stòlda’s comment.

‘Bodhi does seem to have a level head on his shoulders. At least he seems to realize that people have feelings.’ You comment though not really focusing on the conversation with your dragon.

As you get closer and closer to the citadel, you can’t help but feel the loom of the fortress settle in your bones. As tired as you have been since your latest torture session, you haven’t been sleeping well, phantom pains and hands keeping your mind running at night. 

Arriving at the second-year floor, you take a heaving breath, the tiredness of the day beginning to settle into your bones. For some reason though your feet begin to feel even more sluggish than before, every step taking an immense amount of concentration and physical strength.

‘Something isn’t right.’ You send down your bond with Stòlda, but everything about your connenction with her seems fuzzy. 

Before you can take one more step your world goes black and muffled voices ring through your mind, but you can’t make out a single one. 

__________

Waking up to an uncomfortable pull between your shoulders, you try to bring your arms forward but as you tug, the rough pinch of rope jerks at the skin of your wrist. Letting out a hiss of pain, you open your eyes and all you find is a room of roughhewn stone in front of you. 

Scanning the room, the only light emanating in is from a small window that is halfway to the only door. Confusion is the only thing that registers, aside from the pain between your shoulders and the rub of the rope on your skin. 

Distant sounds of roars and the clash of metal has your head spinning, eyes darting left and right, though there is nothing for you to see being strapped to the chair you are in. Suddenly you register the loud pound of boots outside the door and your eyes focus, waiting for whatever danger is lurking.

A reverberating kick to the door has it splintering and you close your eyes to the onslaught of wooden shards.

“Well, well, what do we have here?” An all too familiar and cruel voice drawls from in front of you. 

Drawing your gaze forward, there’s no way to hide your sneer of disgust. Your head rises as the menacing figure drawing forward, but you don’t back down from holding your head proudly.

“I never thought we’d have the marked one’s whore for a target.” The masculine voice continues to sneer as he comes face to face with you. There’s no mistaking the disdainful visage in front of you, not since you’ve spent more than enough time trying to rid yourself of him. 

Kol. Second Wing’s resident menace that has caused more than his fair share of deaths in the quadrant. A bully who came to the quadrant for gore and power, not the ability to help anyone.

“I never thought I’d be subjected to your disgusting face, but here we are.” The words barely leave your mouth before the burning sting of a hand bursts across your face, head thrown to the side from the impact.

The coppery tang of blood coats your tongue and you gather everything you can and spit it directly in his face. His eyes flash and you pull on your restraints again trying to stop him as you register his fist coming up to punch you in the face. Unfortunately, the bindings have no give and the only thing you can do is take the blow. A strike of pain, hot as a branding iron flashes over your eye socket causing a moan to escape as your vision begins to blur.

“Not so tough now when your personal guard isn’t around, are you?” Kol mocks as he begins circling the chair you’re tethered in. 

Even with your right eye swelling fully shut, you stare at him through blurry vision not willing to back down.

“Must be tougher than you since you had to wait until I was tied up to attack.” You taunt, though clearly that was the opposite of what you should have done. 

Rage burning in his eyes, Kol unsheathes the dagger at his waist, and you rear back as he drags the tip down your arm. A muffled cry climbs your throat, but you refuse to open your mouth and let the sounds become any louder. 

“I’m going to have a wonderful time breaking you, inch by inch. You’ll be begging me to stop before I’m finished with you.” Your eyes flash at Kol’s sadistic words, but you refuse to back down and succumb to his incessant taunts.

Concerning quiet has suddenly settled over the room you’re in and it brings Kol’s focus back to the door he had come through. Brows furrowing, you try to place if you did hear another pair of boots or if it was just the ringing in your ears. 

“Now where were we?” Kol jeers as he slowly draws the dagger across your face. “Ah, yes, I believe we were just about to get started.” The vicious gleam in his eye has your fear ratcheting, but you refuse to let it show. 

“And I believe you’re about to die.” The voice breaks through the quiet so low and menacing you feel like you may have dreamt it. 

Turning your head from Kol, you squint with your good eye trying to make out the figure in the doorway, but all you can register is the man’s tall frame. 

The sinister smirk that graces Kol’s face makes you realize it could only possibly be one person.

Garrick strides forward and the glint of sunlight catches on his sword as he holds it out in front of him. You try to get a clearer picture, but no matter what you try, your vision remains blurred. A jolt of panic rises through you as the familiar clink of blades meeting makes your pulse begin to race. 

Here you are, tied to a chair with no access to your power or dragon, so you’ll be absolutely nothing but a liability. 

“No, Garrick! Just go. You don’t need to worry about me any longer.” A male grunt registers, but the clash of steel still sings through the air. 

There’s no response from either man as you hear the continued grunts of a fight and clang of metal. Though your worry grows when you hear a groan of pain and the unmistakable tear of flesh. 

“Garrick!” You heave, trying to control the panic rising, continuing to pull on your restraints. “Are you alright?”

Another grunt is heard before the decisive thump of a body hitting the floor is heard. Your heart beating erratically and your breathing shallow, you continue to pull on your restraints even through the burning pain that has rubbed your skin raw.

Booted footsteps sound and your shallow breathing continues as you can only pray that Garrick is the one approaching you and not Kol. A slight whimper leaves your lips as familiar fingers trace your jawline and come to rest on your chin. 

Without removing his hand, your wrists are freed and your shoulders sag at the sudden relief. Before you can take stock of the rest of your body, you feel yourself being picked up and cradled into a strong chest. 

“You don’t have to carry me. I can take care of myself.” You retort, but there’s no bite to the words. They fall short of their aimed target.

“I am more-than-aware that you can take care of yourself.” Garrick replies with a softness in his voice you’ve never heard before. “But no matter where we stand, I will always want to take care of you. Even if my previous actions may contradict that statement.”

You don’t reply to his words, unsure in the moment of what to say, so you let you let your words drift to safer ground.

“How did you know I was here? How did you find me?” The words come out quieter than you expected.

Garrick takes a considering pause before replying, a soft huff leaving his lips. “If you think after the last month that I don’t know where you are at every moment of every day, you’re fooling yourself.”

A sardonic scoff leaves your mouth at this words, but you won’t deny that the conviction in his tone doesn’t have you intrigued. 

“Seems silly to keep tabs on someone that you aren’t with any longer.” Your lips thin as the words slip out before you can stop them.

Your body slightly jostles as Garrick comes to a stop. “I know you may not believe me. Honestly, after everything, I wouldn’t expect you to, but you haven’t stopped being the singular most important person in my life.”

You try to focus on Garrick’s face as he keeps speaking, but your vision still refuses to clear. “This isn’t the time to have the whole conversation that I want to have with you. But I need you to know that if you will let me prove to you that you are my priority, I will not let you regret it.”

Without waiting for your reply, Garrick begins walking again and soon the warmth of the sun greets you. The swift kick of the wind licks at your face, as well as the sounds of wing beats. It’s the sudden realization of everything going on around you that causes you to gasp.

“I can’t feel Stòlda.” You murmur to Garrick, unsure of if anyone else is around. 

“What do you mean you can’t feel her?” Garrick questions with clear worry in his voice.

“Exactly that. I woke up tied to that chair and unable to feel our bond.” Garrick’s grip tightens on you as you hear the distinct sound of wings getting closer and closer.

“Let’s get you to the healers as soon as possible and I’ll find out what’s going on.” Garrick confirms, clearly beginning to mount Chradh.

“Are you sure Chradh is alright with you carrying me?” You can’t help but question, trying to pull out of his grip.

“Of course he is. He knows how much you mean to me. And besides, Stòlda ordered him to bring you to safety.” As he finishes, Garrick carefully plants you in the seat on Chradh’s back in front of him. 

Wrapping his arms tightly around you, he grips the pommel in front of you, not letting you jostle in any way. You close your eyes at the onslaught of the wind against your battered face, turning your head as far into Garrick’s shoulder as you possibly can to conceal yourself, to push away the sharp sting of the wind. You try not to breathe in the familiar scent of the man that has you wrapped in his arms, but its impossible to ignore the scent of leather, steel, and something distinctly him, a comforting presence that you loathe to have to give up again. Involuntarily, you take a deep breath, inhaling him and the strength that he radiates, every inch of him a balm to your frayed nerves. 

Even though every movement he makes is completely controlled, there is no way to mistake the rapid heartbeat thumping through your ears. You don’t let yourself get wrapped up in the thought, because its most likely just from the adrenaline from the fight. Soon enough, you feel the pull of Chradh’s wings as he begins to slow and land. 

Garrick unwraps his arms and you go to begin to lever yourself off of Chradh, but before you move two steps, you feel the way the brown dragon begins to shift even further to the ground. Unsure whether to move or not, you stand still until Garrick’s caloused hand is gently guiding your arm down. 

Vision still blurry, its impossible to truly make sense of the people standing around you, but the next voice you hear is unmistakeable. 

“Tavis, take the egg. I need to check on Sorrengail.” Xaden’s voice booms over the chaos that is breaking out around you, his strides towards Garrick carrying a weight that you never miss.

“No.” Garrick’s voice carries an edge of steel, firm and unyeilding, something that you’ve never heard before, especially not directed at Xaden, his best friend and superior officer. “Get Graves or Scharf to deal with it.”

There’s no missing the look of venom Xaden sends Garrick’s way, even with your terrible vision. “I said take the egg, that’s an order from your Wingleader.” Xaden’s voice hardens, an edge that dares Garrick to defy him. The air between them turns charged, the tension building like a storm cloud.

Not wanting Garrick to be punished or let this get out of hand, you start to maneuver your legs out of Garrick’s hold, but instead of letting you down, he only holds tighter.

“Stay right where you are.” Garrick directs at you, tone gentle, though his focus never leaves the glaring Wingleader. 

“She’s more important than that damn egg.” Garrick continues, his tone never losing the steel, the tone of immovablility. “And this time my priorities will be clear. Sorrengail is your responsibility, as Y/N is mine. I’ve come to heel regarding Sorrengail too many times at her expense. I won’t do it anymore.”

Without waiting on Xaden’s response, Garrick’s steps continue towards the fortress, controlled and measured. Each click of his boots a smattering of both pressure and relief.

“You don’t need to worry about me, Garrick. I can get someone else to take me to the healers.” Your tone is quiet, tired, beaten down. The adrenaline and energy from the battle beginning to drain from your body. 

Looking up to Garrick’s face, you can see the muscle in his jaw feather as his footsteps begin to slow. Your arms drop from around his neck as you try to move away from him, but before you even have an inch between you, Garrick’s grip tightens again. His hands keeping you firmly tethered to his side, his eyes coming down to stare into your own.

“You aren’t getting anyone else to take you. You aren’t leaving my side. And I don’t give a fucking shit if Xaden never talks to me again.” His feet begin moving again and before you have the chance to reply, the familiar scent of the Healer’s Ward comes floating through the air. 

Garrick walks confidently to the nearest open cot, before he steps away to beckon the nearest healer. 

“Oh my dear.” A sweet female voice floats through the air. “I didn’t expect to see you in here again so soon. Though I’m glad there’s someone with you this time.”

You give her the semblence of a tired smile, but there’s no warmth there. Nothing happy fills you as you wait to hear the retreating footsteps of Garrick’s boots. 

She stands in front of you checking you from head to toe, taking time to put a salve on your swollen eye. “I’m going to get Nolon and see if he can assist with taking away some of the inflamation so you can at least see out of one eye.”

“Before you leave, can you also ask if there’s something that was given to me before war games?” Your tone comes out pleading, the silence in your mind between you and your dragon weighing on you. “For some reason I’m unsure of, my bond is gone. Or it feels like it has been severed somehow.”

The healer looks back at you, a look that says she knows exactly what you speak of and that she doesn’t agree with it one bit.

“I’ll get everything you need while I find Nolon. We’ll get some of your vision back in order and you’ll have your dragon back in no time.” She says with a confidence you don’t feel.

Shaking your head in acknowledgment, you let your head fall back to the pillow behind you, eyes closed to keep away the blur of your vision. Taking a deep breath, you try to keep the emotions roiling inside at bay. There’s no reason to cry, or to rage, you know that it won’t fix anything in your failed relationship. 

The quiet of the ward greets your ears and you try to breathe through the hazy thoughts of the day, but warmth gliding over your hand has your eyes popping open. 

Mouth widening slightly, you look up to see the blurry figure of Garrick standing over you, his fingers intertwined with yours, stroking the back of your knuckles. 

“You – you can go.” You confirm, your voice small, even to your own ears. “I’m sure you have more important things to tend to.”

The stroking on your knuckles comes to a quick halt and you close your eyes, not wanting to watch Garrick turn his back on you again. But your eyes open again when you feel the bed next to you dip and a warm, calloused hand cup your cheek.

“I’m not going anywhere.” Garrick’s voice is quiet, subdued in a way you’ve never heard before. “I heard everything you said. And I saw everything you didn’t.”

He starts, but stops in a way that indicates he’s unsure on how to continue.

“I failed.” He exhales. “Failed you spectacularly in every single way I could.” He shakes his head as if unbelieving of his own actions. The movement causing your throat to catch, unsure of where this conversation is headed.

“I took advantage of the fact that you’ve always been able to take care of yourself. Always been strong, even before you were mine.” He scoffs, irritated with himself. “But I took your strength for granted. Made it mean that you didn’t need me, not really. Not in the way that mattered.”

“I chose to make our relationship secondary. To let you bleed to the back of my life, when in my mind you were always the front.” Garrick’s thumb begins to stroke your cheek as his voice becomes reflective. “In the end though, my actions spoke far louder than any of my words. I told you that you were my world, and you still are. Always will be. But I never treated you that way. I never put you before what I considered my duty.”

Rising from the bed, Garrick begins pacing, as though the words can only come if he keeps moving, if he keeps himself in the reflective moment he seems to be caught up in.

“I’ve always followed Xaden. Always been his right hand. Just like my dad was Fen’s. But never once did I ever stop and really look to see what that meant. How the rest of the people in my life fit into that dynamic. Never had to.” He pauses, eyes coming back to find yours.

“That was until you came around.” He says coming back towards you. “Not until you made me begin to question things. Question what I was trying to prove, why I was always the one following orders, not giving some of my own. I let my own life fade into unimportance, everything that wasn’t detrimental to the mission quickly forgotten.”

“You taught me that. The way you left me standing in the courtyard, devastated that the one piece of my life that truly mattered slipped through my fingers at my own doing.” The way his eyes glaze begins to pull at the ropes tied tightly around your heart. “Every single moment of happiness that I’ve experienced with you drowned out by the realization that I tore everything apart. The weight on my chest from not knowing you were hurt, not knowing that I could’ve lost you and I would’ve been none the wiser. I’ll never forgive myself.” 

Its then that the healer comes strolling back in, causing Garrick to step back away from your cot.

“Sorry to disturb.” An aged male voice greets as you see Nolon walk into the room behind the healer. “But I’m sure you’ll both be glad to get back to the rider’s quadrant quickly after this. After all, I believe there will be raucous celebrations tonight.”

You give him a tight smile as he stops when he’s flush with your cot. “I’ll be able to calm some of the inflammation, but the bruising will still be there for some time. But before we begin, go ahead and take this.” Nolon finishes as he brings a small vial forward with a clear liquid. 

You nod your head in understanding and take the vial from him. Knocking the liquid back, you swallow and lay your head back down and he raises his hands to your face. The power of mending begins to pass through your body and there’s no way to stop your body from tensing through the pain. Your jaw clenched, your hands fall to the sheets below you, and you grip them with white knuckles. 

The feeling of a large palm covering your hand has you releasing its tight grip, but soon regaining it intertwined in Garrick’s hand. You try not to squeeze too hard, but as the zip of mending continues the pulsing pain around your eye, you can’t help the whimper of pain. Though instead of your hand tightening further in Garrick’s, his curls around yours harder as if trying to take the pain for himself. 

A few more minutes tick by before the magic around your face begins to fade and you are able to open your unaffected eye with clear vision. As you blink the sting of tears away, you are finally able to see Garrick clearly and you can’t help the way your breath catches at the sight.

Gone is the stoic leader who exudes power and strength, in his place is a man that looks wrecked from sleepless nights and personal torment. It’s impossible for you not to reach for him, your hand that he still has in his pulling him forward. Your other hand rises as he shifts to his knees next to your cot and goes to his face, cupping and stroking his stubbled cheek. Garrick surprises you by leaning into your touch, his eyes closing at the tenderness you’ve given him. 

Your vision narrows to the sorrowful man in front of you, your eyes unable to move from his dim ones. Eyes that normally shone a bright gold and flecked with greens as deep as emeralds. The color has now dimmed to a dull honey, every single speck darkened to almost black. 

“How did we get here?” You voice comes out as a rasp, a sound unlike your normally smooth tone. 

Garrick’s eyes close as if overcome with emotion from your question. 

“Letting anyone or anything come before you will always be my greatest regret. I just hope that someday, somehow you will be able to let me atone for every way I’ve failed you. Failed us.” The spark of hopefulness in his words put a sad smile on your face. 

Garrick continues to burrow his face in your hand, a man starved for the only touch he’s been craving. 

“What about Xaden and Sorrengail?” You ask, the question the thing that keeps you from willingly folding into the arms of the man in front of you.

“I’ll always try to protect them both, but I refuse to do it again at the expense of you. As I told Xaden, you are my responsibility. The only person I want to take care of.” He exhales the breath he seemed to be holding. “Never again will you feel like you aren’t my priority. Never again will you think you are less than the most important person in my life.”

Your hand snakes around the back of Garrick’s neck and you pull his face to yours, resting your foreheads together. 

“Then take me back to my room, Section Leader.” There’s no mistaking the way Garrick tenses in your arms, his entire body ready for a blow that you know will never come. You can feel the way the wind whooshes out of him, an exhale believing that you are completely lost to him. 

Garrick slowly nods and begins to stand. He holds his hand out and helps you rise from the cot. Wincing as the pull of the mending tugs at you, but you hold steady on your feet. 

The silence between you grows thicker and thicker as you both continue back to the riders quadrant. Garrick’s footsteps click, though you can hear the hesitation in even those. As you ascend the stairs, his hand tightens on yours, the last seeming vestibule of your relationship that he is trying in every way not to lose. 

Entering the landing of the second-year floor, you trudge to your door, pulling along a hesitant Garrick. You let your hand turn, the click of your lock unmistakable and Garrick pulls in a shaky breath behind you. A small smile gracing your lips, you pull him forward, his brows pulling in with confusion. 

“I’m giving you a chance.” You state with conviction, turning as Garrick continues to grip your hand as a vice. “One chance. Prove yourself. Prove that you will put our relationship and yourself before the weight of the rest of the world, because at the end of the day, the world will only crush you if you let it.”

Before you have time to blink, your breath leaves your lungs as you are tugged against a hard chest. Garrick’s arms encircling your waist in a punishing grip, his face buried into the top of your hair.

“I will spend every day proving that you are my priority. You are my one love, my partner and the singular person I will drop anything and everything for.” The words rush out of Garrick, the singular conviction in his tone obvious.

Backing up one step, you are caught off guard again when Garrick’s lips slam into yours. The kiss claiming in a way that you’ve never experienced before. The desperation, hope, and utter happiness leaching through every movement of his lips on yours. 

He lifts you up by your thighs and your legs instinctually wrap around his waist, his strong arms balancing your weight with ease. A smile breaks out over your lips and as you part, you don’t miss the dimple, that is your undoing, making an appearance. 

Your hands stroke his cheeks as you watch the light slowly climb back into his eyes, the tension seeming to melt from every pore. Smiling back at each other, you refuse to focus on anything but the hope that has settled in your bones. 

Hope for Garrick’s commitment. Hope for peace. Hope for your future. And finally, the hope that you will never be without the man you’re wrapped around ever again.

Divider: @empyreanevents

Taglist: @ilovetomtailor @nevermoresworld @nastylicious @iambored24601 @mysticalfuncollectorus @sadpieceofbread @alwayshave-faith

[violentdelightshavevioletends]

"You sure I shouldn't ask Cuir or Chradh—"

"No." I start down the stairs. There's only one other person besides Bodhi and Garrick I can trust to prioritize Xaden's best interests, only one other person who can know the truth in its entirety. "Tell Glane I need Imogen."

— Violet Sorrengail, in the Onyx Storm prologue

"What did you do?" My head snaps toward Imogen, and a deep sense of foreboding takes root in my chest.

She slowly lifts her gaze to mine. "What you asked me to."

— Violet Sorrengail to Imogen Cardulo, during Chapter 66 of Onyx Storm

[teddyniffler]

What was going on in Dain's mind during and after Onyx Storm

On seeing Garrick and Chradh vanish without trace: I didnt just see that? No, impossible. It's the stress of this battle, because I'm sure I just hallucinated them vanishing...

On seeing Imogen turning his shield into stone: I'm not hallucinating am I? This is really happening. What is going on here?

Dain, late into the night after the battle in the privacy of this room, communicing with a paw palming Cath: Wait, hear me out: the marked ones have access to unlimited power, theirs to choose as they need. It explains everything, why they are hunted. My dad knows, doesn't he? No, how could he? Although this doesn't make any sense. Sloane doesn't have unlimited signets... but Liam was the best of his year— wait, it makes sense now! It was because he had unlimited signets...

Cath: Please sleep.

[siobhanbooks]

my crochet dragons as of rn for @beautiful-songbird

finished glane and in progress chradh

[plum-petals]

I want... Violet to talk to all of the dragons 👀

Like we have already established that they gossip among themselves and I am giddy for the idea that each of them finds something intriguing about this tiny firecracker.

Like Sgaeyl cannot be the only one who is impressed by her savageness, Tairn values her intelligence etc. I feel like some dragons would be like, huh, maybe there is more to this fleshling than aimsir and others implied. And like their riders, after getting to know her better, they cannot get enough.

And Violet is certainly ballsy to talk to the biggest and baddest of them so she'd just roll with it, while silently contemplating her life choices.

Like imagine Violet walking on the field to class and all the dragons are watching her specifically. Cradh getting to the vale all excited like The Poisonous One liked my venom *blushing equivalent*

Tairn is probably so insulted by this whole thing. But really, other dragon's scale armor, other dragon's poison of choice. Step up old man lol

Hahaha, that's so funny to me! Liam and Garrick's dragons are obviously big fans! They definitely gossip and I stand by it.

I'm sure that they discover more things about Violet through their riders and understand more and more what drew Tairn to the tiny silver one!

Absolutely losing it at Chradh calling her "The Poisonous One" like that is definitely a term of an endearment from a scorpiantail! You know he felt sooo cool when it worked. Like his rider was running from Xaden and fighting for his mf life and Chradh was in the Vale like "hell yeah. i knew i had the coolest tail."

Tairn half amused, half exhausted, 100% ready for his rider to stop talking to other dragons lmao

[auraisereigh]

Brown Dragons

Everything we know about the Brown Dragons from the Empyrean series so far. information in how to bond a Brown + some insights into known brown dragons. 🤎

This entire page is made by me, i did my research on both the books and The Empyrean Wiki, but feel free to correct me if something is wrong or missing. Do not use without giving credit, i spend many hours on each and every spread. This stunning art of our favorite Brown dragons are all made by the amazing @bookartbysloan on instagram, make sure to check out her other pieces too!

If you have questions, feel free to ask! My messages/requests are always open. ♡

This is part of the "aura's dragon guide" series. Find the rest on my masterlist here, i will update all of these once onyx storm is out. Every sunday i post a new part. (or somewhere throughout the week if class is boring lol)

We don't have a lot of information when it comes to the Browns, which is sad but it gave me more space to explore the known Brown dragons. 🤎

[the-riders-quadrant]

Fic Exchange Details: https://archiveofourown.org/collections/riders_quadrant_fic_exchange/profile

[waytotiredforthis]

OOOOOOR, hear me out.

Liam survives Resson. And Xaden has a little sister who is a year younger then Violet. And maybe she was fostered super far away from everybody else, so no one has heard from her in like, seven years.

Maybe she was fostered by an ex assassin, and he trains her, and she joins the guild of assassins and becomes like one of their best, most lethal assassins. And she goes about pulling strings behind the scenes and hunting down venin as revenge for her dad.

And she keeps a loooooow profile in Basgiath, like keeps her guild mark covered at all times and stuff (could also be in a different wing completely, so that helps her hide her extracurricular work).

And, obviously, Xaden and everyone else is busy with their own things, so she kinda goes months without interacting with the others. And her dragon is like, 'f*ck the empyrean, we are going to hunt venin and wyvern on free weekends and in the middle of the night.'

Maybe in Iron flame when everyone defects she doesn't show up at Riorson house, she goes off and like, does a bunch of missions for the guild and kills off the last of the venin and is gone for a few months.

And Xaden is a wreck cause, 'I was super neglectful and idk where she is, and what if she's dead?'.....just stressing out cause she's gone and so are the venin and what's going on?

And she just shows up randomly dressed in her assassin uniform mask and all, with the head of the head honcho venin all just drops it in front of the assembly and is like, 'wars over stop being so broody' and takes her mask off.

And Xaden can be all like groveling for forgiveness that he didn't speak to her for like, eight years and all that. And just, the crew having to deal with a super in demand assassin and all her unhinged friends she has made in the guild and all the people she has helped over the years that love her. Maybe she pulled some strings and got Tyrrendor a bunch of alies and has gotten the king to reinstate Xaden as Duke. And when she shows up she's like, 'sup bitches, I got responsibilities for you all.' And Duke Xaden has to deal with all these foreign people who are now alies with him coming and asking to see and flirting with his sister in languages none of them but her understand. And he's just a bit overwhelmed and very overprotective.

Maybe Xaden and her spar, and she just beats him into the ground so fast and he kinda has this realization that 'my baby sister is all grown up and has seen shit even i can't imagine' and just has a whole lot of respect for her. Maybe they have a heart to heart and he hears about all the terrible things that happened to her since the rebellion and just, like, realizes that she really is all grown up and has her own scars and has lost her own people and he needs to start treating her that way and he can't really treat her like a child anymore.

I need a fourth wing/iron flam fic where the reader is turned venin as a kid, and it awakens her healing magic or something(this makes her now amune to the venum).

And she now goes around 'healing' the other venin (forcing the venum out of their bodies and making them human again). And she cleans out the cell of venin that were going to be at resson and just being a badass in general.

And the rebellion is confused because, where did all the venin go? And just a girl being pissed off and saving the world. Maybe she gets with garrick at the end or something.

Or. Edit

Maybe they're a dragon rider, and the venin infected them at resson instead of liam dying.

And they disappear in the chaos with their dragon, and they go about taking out venin and everyone freaks the f out cause, how do you lose a whole ass dragon and their rider.

Maybe they meet up a few years later after the venin disappears, and they're just covered in blood and dirt and maybe garrick finds them while out on patrol and dragon and rider are just chilling on the beach or something.

Maybe they just killed the sages or the head honcho and they 'just want a gosh darn break' after all these years and garricks like, 'the fuk, your alive!?!?'

[intairnwetrust]

"Is Chradh-"

"Enraged but not suffering the loss of his rider from what I can tell."

"He just set part of the forest on fire," Andarna adds.

I love the little insider we got from the other riders and their dragons.

It was so exciting to see the relationship the others have with their dragons

[theseinfernalangels]

A Dragon’s Appellation

(Or, what I think the boys’ dragons call them. May do a part 2).

Dain: 

Dain is Cath’s Ridire — and, no, that doesn’t mean “rider,” although that’s what Dain thinks at first. Ridire means  knight. Cath knows how awful General Aetos is to his son, and absolutely hates it. When Dain was a child, he always wanted to show his father how brave he was, how strong he was, but the General always ignored him in favor of work and “more productive means.” So, when Dain played with Violet, he always did the same but with Asher Sorrengail instead. He has one particular memory of Vi’s father ruffling his hair and going, “Well done, little knight,” and it’s stuck with him since. So, Cath is generous and secretly indulges him. Dain is his Ridire, his little knight that rides into battle, and Cath couldn’t be more proud.

Bodhi:

 Cuir calls Bodhi his Gréine — his sun. Bodhi is a sweet boy under his strict leader persona. He loves to laugh, he loves his family, and he’s just so lovely that when Cuir bonds with him, he can’t believe the energy he’s getting from Xaden Riorson’s little cousin. He could have called him Sunshine, but that would have been a tad infantilizing, and Cuir has too much respect for his rider for that. Cuir’s name means “to put,” or “to place.” You cannot place something without a center — a nucleus, a median point, a sun to revolve around. Bodhi is the center of Cuir’s universe — and dang it, he’ll let him know that he’s not just resigned to being the spare.

Ridoc: 

This was actually used in someone else’s fanfic (credit to wedonotsharekills on ao3), but Aotrom calls Ridoc his Little Wing. Remember, the both of them are close to the same age. Aotrom is canonically, like, 22, and his and Ridoc’s relationship is that of literal brothers. They mess with each other all the time, they definitely make fun of one another, and why not? That’s Aotrom’s Little Wing right there! That’s the human extension of him, and he’ll be damned if he can’t mess around with his rider like one of his nest-mates. It’s also a tad coddling, but there’s a reason for that — Ridoc has never really been coddled before. His mom died when he was just a kid, and while his father loves him, he’s not a very touchy-feely guy. You know who is, though? That’s right — the Brown dragon who likes to dunk his Little Wing in a river when he gets mad at him. That’s his kid brother, and he adores him.

Aaric:

We all know it, and I’ve already said it, but Molvic addresses Aaric as Princeling. We know why, obviously: Our boy Camlaen is un petit prince! Generally, I think he hates it when people call him anything relating to his official title, but we know that Blue dragons are…Well, they certainly don’t hold themselves to human whims. So Molvic addresses Aaric for the first time, and he’s quite…miffed by the pet name. He can’t scold this dragon, though, because he doesn’t want to be burnt to a crisp either. So he accepts it, goes along with it for while, before he quietly says one day:

“I kind of hate it when you call me that.”

Molvic goes, “I know, Princeling. But it shows your integrity and patience. Had you snapped at me or shown any difference, I could have very well killed you. That is not within your character, though. That is why you are mine.”

Sawyer:

Similarly, Sliseag calls Sawyer Ashling. I think of Sliseag as a typical Red, but he’s also very gentle with Sawyer because he’s seen what the boy has been through. He knows every nook and cranny of his insecurities when it comes to the bond and being a repeat. Therefore, Sliseag sees Sawyer as his little boy (cus he is just a little guy 🥹) — his hatchling. However, he also respects Sawyer and knows he doesn’t want to be pitied any more than he already is, so he came up with Ashling. It also has a deeper meaning for the both of them — a boy left alone and unbonded, crawling out of the Threshing Grounds with nothing but blood on his hands and his head lowered in shame. Coming back the next year, getting dragged through the woods and into the wings of this huge Red Swordtail that sees this kid and goes, “I see you. I’ve been waiting for you. You’re mine now, and you will never be alone again. Rise from the ashes, Ashling. We’ve got work to do.”

Liam:

 No doubt about it, Deigh referred to Liam as his Golden One. Not because of his blond hair; no, Liam is the Golden One because, as Rebecca stated, he’s genuinely perfect. He’s strong. He’s reliable. He has a cause to fight for and will fight for it while still being there for his friends who may very well turn their backs on him if they find out that he’s part of a revolution. He doesn’t care, though; even if they don’t get it, he loves them all the same. Deigh doesn’t completely understand it, but he accepts it, the nature of his Golden One. Also, let’s not forget that Tairn and Deigh were close — Tairn’s got his Silver One, and Deigh has his Golden One. 

Brennan: 

Marbh simply addresses Brennan as, “boy.” Not out of malice or indifference, but that’s how he sees his rider, even at 30 years old. When’s the last time Brennan was allowed to just be a boy? Not a co-parent, not a defender, not a Mender, not a leader of a huge revolution, not the one who literally came back from the dead — but a boy, a child, a little thing who’s able to run around and climb trees and have fun? I can only assume it was around when Mira was born, when he was only a child peeking over his father’s shoulder to see the little bundle wrapped in Lilith’s arms. It was after that he became his little sister’s shield — but, when he’s alone at Basgiath with Marbh, he’s not anyone’s shield or protector anymore. He’s just Brennan, and he’s not sure how to cope with it. Marbh looks down his snout at the boy with wide eyes and hair that falls over his face softly, and he just sighs to himself.

“You’re just a boy, it seems. You do not have to be more than that with me.”

Garrick:

Chradh calls Garrick Little Fang, for a multitude of reasons.  The main one? During his Threshing, when Alic Tauri went after Garrick, the first thing Chradh saw was Garrick baring his teeth at the prince like a wolf. He probably thought to himself, “Fuck, man. This human bites.” The other reason? We know that Garrick, despite what we all headcanon for his lovers, is a very impatient man. He’s easily annoyed and snaps easily when things get on his nerves. Chradh is the same. When Garrick gets poisoned on Hedotis, Chradh gets so pissed off that he sets fire to half of their forests. It’s a valid reaction, though; the poor dragon can’t help his anger knowing that his Little Fang is actively dying by the hand of a tyrant.

[xtheriderofchradh]

Garrick Tavis is a recently graduated dragon rider and Xaden Riorson's best friend since childhood. He has an active role in the rebellion as one of the oldest bearers of the rebellion relic, received as a consequence of his parent's involvement in the Tyrrish Rebellion.

Garrick was around 17 when the Tyrrish Rebellion failed and, just like the other children of the separatist leaders, he was branded with the rebellion relic and was forced to watch his parents' execution. 

[quietstormxr]

Only Mine

*A collective sigh of relief* FINALLY!

Part 3 of 'You'll Survive'

A/N: FW/IF and very minor OS spoilers, angst, fluff, swearing, and Garrick :)

Summary: Reckless must be your middle name, or at least that's what Garrick thinks. Until he's on the other side, then you realize something you've been putting off for too long. Continuation through the battle of Pavis.

Word Count: 19k

You'll Survive - Found You Again

“Do you think that masquerading yourself will save you?” The sickeningly sweet voice calls through your mind.

Running as fast as your feet will carry you, you look left and right but can’t seem to find the source. Panic and confusion clawing at your insides. Panting with exertion, sweat falling down your temples, you suddenly find your feet swept from underneath you and your arms tied to your side. Thrashing trying to pry yourself loose, but there aren’t any bindings to pull apart. 

“Tsk, tsk.” The voice continues from behind you. “I figured it would’ve been harder to catch you. Seems you haven’t been utilizing your signet as well as you should.”

Finally, the owner of the voice comes into view, and you are met with crimson eyes and veins spidering out in every direction. Taking in the robes and the color of the venin’s skin, the prominent tattoo on their forehead a striking contrast, you know this isn’t just another student. 

“You can recognize power better than other riders. Such an interesting conundrum. You can pretend to be us, yet you do not corrupt yourself as we do. Pity. A power like yours would be more than welcome in our ranks.” 

“Fuck. Off.” You spit while still trying to thrash out of the magical hold. 

“Ah-ah. Watch that pretty mouth of yours. I’ll be seeing you sooner than you realize, and you should never talk back to those more powerful than you.” Her words are purred in a voice in direct opposition to the threat behind them.

The hold she has on you drops and you begin sprinting as fast as the burning in your legs will allow. It isn’t until you are met with the ledge of a cliff that you turn back to the threat behind you. Your eyes blow wide watching the venin channeling behind you and the way the desiccation of the land is spreading quickly towards your feet. 

Your head snapping between the options, of jumping off the cliff or being drained, has your head spinning trying to make the best decision. Refusing to give this thing more power, you turn to the cliff face and jump, a scream of absolute terror ripping from your throat and a seizing feeling of panic as you freefall.

Hard stone greets your face and your eyes fly open, heart fluttering as fast as a hummingbird’s wings, your breathing ragged and gasping. Long moments pass before your brain begins to catch up to reality. Hands braced on the cold stone floor of your bedroom and as you look around you realize you are alone.

A nightmare.

‘You are safe Bold One.’ Diomat’s voice is warm and a feeling of comfort washes through the bond. 

Sitting on the floor, your knees to your chest, the silence creeps in as you try to process everything that just happened. Confusion filters through as you wonder if this is just something your mind has conjured up or a magic that is gripped tight as a vice on your thoughts. 

Shaking your head trying to clear the fog of the dream, you decide that it must be because of the day you have ahead and try to let the fear go. Though no matter how you try to persuade yourself, the terror never fully abates, sinking its sharp talons into your mind. A bush of thorns curled around you with every prick a pull to your fear.

Realizing that the possibility of sleep for the rest of the night is gone, you dress for the day and head outside. Dawn is barely breaking, but you relish the sharp bite in the air and the way it cuts through your leathers. The sharp sting of the cold breaking through your clouded thoughts. Taking in deep breaths of fresh air, you focus on the feeling to try and calm your senses. Anything to wipe the terror of your nightmare from your mind. To sheer through the thorns of your thoughts and get back a semblance of peace.

Finally walking towards battle brief, there’s no controlling the shake of your hands or the rate at which your heartbeat begins to speed. The beat feeling as though it may pound through your chest.

Wiping your palms on your leathers only seems to make them slicker, the clammy sweat sticking to every surface. A faint sheen of sweat covers you and every nerve in your body is jumping with an energy that you are incapable of displacing.

“Are you ready for today?” Violet strides up to your side as you continue pacing outside the door, wringing your hands in worry.

“Uh – yes?” The higher pitch of your voice and the return of a question showcasing your obvious trepidation at what you’re about to do. There is no way to placate the anxiety that has claimed you or steady your erratic breathing. 

She gives you a look as if she understands and squeezes your shoulder. You may not be overly friendly with her, but it’s at least a little bit of comfort from someone that’s already seen your capabilities. 

“Don’t worry. I’ll make sure that you’re covered.” A smooth male voice says from behind you, turning you find Bodhi striding towards the both of you.

Trying to give Bodhi a smile, but it comes out as more of a grimace, though he eyes you knowingly. Ever since you agreed you would do this, the moment in the Assembly room with the older Riorson cousin has been replaying repetitively in your mind.

“We can postpone until Garrick is back. You don’t have to feel pressured.” Bodhi tries to persuade, but you’re unsure if he’s doing it for you or himself. Knowing full well that Garrick is going to be angry when he finds out you did this without him, even though he was supposed to be back already from patrols.

“Postponing it isn’t going to make it any better.” You say trying to push a confidence you don’t feel, even though it’s the truth. “Even if Garrick was here, he can’t stop everything.”

“No.” Bodhi acknowledges with the signature Riorson smirk. “That’s my department.”

You roll your eyes at his confidence but give him back a thankful look when you realize he’s trying to calm you down. Uncertainty still courses through you as you’re hesitant how your fellow cadets are going to look at you once you do this. 

“Do you think anyone will think I’m just a venin in disguise after this?” The thought leaves your lips unbidden, and you bite your bottom lip trying to hold yourself together. 

Bodhi turns back towards you and his eyes soften with understanding. He puts his arm around your shoulders and begins to walk towards the battle brief room while squeezing you closer to him. 

“If anyone has any issues, we will take care of it. But, no, I don’t think so. At this point, I believe everyone is aware of your signet, so I wouldn’t worry too much.” He tries to assuage the doubt creeping in that everyone will now see you as the enemy. “Besides, I’m sure your scary guard dog can put anyone that may question you in their place.”

Turning your head to look at Bodhi with a raised eyebrow there’s no mistaking the mischief in his eyes. “Are you calling one of your best friends a guard dog?” You tease back and crack the first smile you’ve had all day. 

“Well, if the boot fits, he should probably wear it.” The smile you’re wearing deepens as amusement dances in your eyes.

Taking a deep breath, you move from Bodhi’s arm, giving him a thanks in response, a tight nod trying to loosen the anxiety. As you head into the room, there’s no mistaking the lurking you feel in your mind as Diomat comes to stand as a silent strength, an ever-watchful sentinel.

Taking inventory of the room that you’ve come accustomed to being a student in, you can’t help but notice the difference you feel looking back at your fellow riders. Staring at each of their faces, your mind can’t help but take in the looks they give you now versus what they will be looking like in just a few moments. The dread settling like stone in your stomach.

“Ah, there she is.” You hear a male voice call from the front and look to see Brennan waving you forward.

“Before we start our brief for today, I’ve requested that Cadet L/N come and give a demonstration. Now, before she does anything, I need all riders to remember that she is not an enemy and this is just a demonstration.” Murmurs begin to break out all over the room, but you do your best to zero in on the members of your squad that are giving you looks of encouragement. The warmth and steadiness coming from the bond with Diomat growing stronger. If your continued wringing of your hands and shifting of feet is any indication, the encouragement isn’t doing much to calm your nerves.

Brennan gives a look, and everyone begins to settle once again. “Now, to prove a point, Cadet L/N, can you give an example of your signet with someone in the front of this room?”

Turning around, you take stock of the others at the front of the room with you. Every single person gives you a nod in encouragement and an idea forms in your mind. As you turn back around, you let yourself feel Diomat’s power flood through your system. Your eyes are met with the approving looks of the cadre watching you as your features morph into your intended shapes and coloring. 

There’s no mistaking the ways the whispers behind you have again grown louder as you turn around to face everyone that is gathered into the space. Looking down, there isn’t much difference in what you wear, except for the rank you now don on your flight jacket and the purple hair that you can see in your peripheral vision. 

“Impossible.” Someone’s voice rings out over the crowd, causing you to smirk slightly. Without asking for permission, you drop the hold on your power and let yourself settle back into your own looks. 

Professor Devera steps up to your side and clasps you on the shoulder in acknowledgement before continuing. Pride shining in her eyes. “Alright, now that you’ve all seen what Cadet L/N’s signet entails, every single one of you will keep that in mind.”

“The sole purpose of this exercise is to give you an idea of the enemy you will be fighting. There are obviously good descriptions that have been given; however, that isn’t the same as encountering them during a fight.” Devera continues as her sharp gaze parses over the crowd of cadets and lieutenants. 

Observing the gathered crowd yourself, you look for a certain pair of hazel eyes but still come up empty. There is however a guard giving you a warm smile that you can’t help but return when you see Fabien has also joined everyone gathered.

A hushed voice next to you draws your attention and you turn to look at Brennan. “Whenever you’re ready. Hold this one a bit longer so everyone has the time to get over their initial surprise.” 

Swallowing thickly, you nod in confirmation and try to steady your heart and the frantic pace that you now find it beating. Taking a calming breath, you reach for your power again and let your mind wander back to the image of the venin from your nightmare. Every single detail burned into the back of your mind, along with the fear of the dream. Eyes staying directly in front of you, you watch as the faces around you begin to contort. Fear, hesitation, and confusion, all emotions seem to be floating across the faces of the people in front of you. 

It only takes seconds for the room to break out in chaos. Shouts of malice, gasps of horror, and the clink of metal being unsheathed all greeting your ears in a cacophony of sounds. 

Out of the corner of your eye, you notice Bodhi coming up closer to you, but you don’t miss the trepidation on his features as well. Clearly the raucousness of the crowd has him on edge. It’s that one look that proves to be the mistake. 

“No!” The word barely registers before an agonizing pain erupts in your abdomen and your body begins to crumple. Trying to break the illusion proves futile when your mind is caught up in trying to register what just happened. 

Sounds then erupt around you, but things keep floating in and out of focus. Your hearing starting to feel underwater, you try to register the shouting around you though everything seems too muffled.

“MOVE!” A booming male voice is the only thing that seems to break through the haze.  

A rush of air ruffles your hair as a pair of arms scoops you from the stage and begins to move. A loud whimper leaves your lips as the person jostles the blade still protruding from your side. Your vision blurring with the sudden stab of pain.

Trying to get a hold of yourself, trying to settle into your mind and break the contact with Diomat’s power, but the pain keeps pulling away your concentration. A heavy coldness beginning to bloom around your body.

‘You need to control your mind, Bold One.’ Diomat’s voice comes as a command, and you focus as best you can on completing the task.

With a grunt of effort, you finally close off the power flowing through your body and sag into the pain of your wound. 

“At this point I’m convinced that you’re trying to send me to Malek early.” A furious voice floats to your ears as a sharp jolt of pain rolls through you.

Feeling yourself being let down onto a hard surface, you try to curl into the wound that’s pouring blood. 

“Get the fuck in here and fix her Brennan before I run out of patience with you and give you a matching wound.” The voice is low and dangerous, there’s no way to miss the fury behind the words. A lethal tone promising to fulfill the words if the command is not met.

“Look Tavis, we had things handled until you had to rush in and play hero. Don’t you know it’s better not to move stab wounds if possible.” Brennan’s tone is clear with aggravation, but you don’t focus on the conversation long.

The silence drags on as you hear footsteps coming closer, finally opening your eyes, you’re met with blazing gold orbs that are pulsing with anger and something more. His eyes are focused on you and something in your eyes must break the control that he’s trying to keep, because the next thing you know Garrick’s forehead is against yours and his hand is entwined with yours.

“Why didn’t you wait for me?” He breathes, clearly fighting to keep himself together.

“You were supposed to be back before now. We couldn’t keep waiting.” Your words obviously do nothing to quell the storm, as he tightens his hold on your hand.

The next thing you know, you are letting out a sharp scream of pain as Brennan removes the dagger lodged in your abdomen. 

“Just keep breathing, Y/N. The mending will be over as soon as possible.” Brennan tries to say in a calming manner, but it does nothing to help the searing pain and the metallic smell of blood that has begun to pool on the table. 

A primal scream rips from your chest as the wound begins to knit itself back together, your hand tightening on Garrick’s. The pain consumes your every thought, though you can hear that he’s trying to whisper something to you. 

As the pain of mending finally begins to recede, you rasp. “I’m getting really tired of being your number one patient.” 

Brennan lets out a huff of a laugh, though he’s still concentrated on finalizing the mending.

“It’s not fucking funny.” Garrick is anything but amused at your quip and as you look up to him, there is no missing how ramrod straight his body is, showcasing his tension.

“I’m okay.” You say trying to quell the tempest burning in front of you.

“No, you’re not.” Garrick murmurs, his anger hasn’t left, but his words are soft. “Why do I always find you hurt and in need of mending?”

“I am a rider, you know? It’s not exactly an occupation known for its sense of safety.” You snark, while giving him a pointed look. 

Garrick returns the look obviously unimpressed with everything that has happened in the last few minutes. His gaze then drags itself to where the knife was imbedded in your side, and you feel as his hand slowly caresses the new scar that you know marks your body. 

Between the scars from the wyvern’s feathers, the ones from days of torture, and now all the times you’ve seemed to be the recipient of someone’s fear, the feeling of self-consciousness buries itself in you.  The ugly rot of inadequacy driving its knife further into the commanding bravado you try to portray. Trying to tug down your shirt and move away, you are met with a firm hand and Garrick still staring back at you. 

“What’s the matter?” Brows furrowing as he takes in the look on your face. 

“I-it’s nothing.” There’s no way he believes you with the way your voice wavers. 

“Obviously it’s something or you wouldn’t be trying to force your shirt down like there’s something else wrong.” Garrick responds while continuing to caress your skin. 

A sigh leaves your lips as you close your eyes and try to think of anything but the truth to say to him. Upon opening your eyes back up, you notice the way his worry has grown, and he looks at you with the need to understand.

“I just – I don’t want you to see the scars. There’s just so many of them and nothing about them is beautiful. It’s just a hideous reminder of my failings.” You drop your eyes as you sit up, a quick hiss leaving your lips from the residual pain. Beginning to sway, you can’t help but hope you can push forward until you get to the safety of your room.

Swinging your legs to hang over the table, you try to scoot to the end and make your way out of the room, a sense of defeat sinking into you. Before you can stand, Garrick’s frame is in between your legs keeping you in place. A calloused hand comes up to tilt your face and you’re met with a gaze that teems with understanding and something soft you refuse to name.

“You are absolutely insane if you don’t think you are the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen.” Garrick whispers as his mouth comes to the shell of your ear. “If anything, each and every scar you bear is a testament of how strong you are.” 

Pulling back to stare into your eyes, he continues to murmur for only you to hear. 

“All of the beauty and strength you have is more than any one man could hope to have and yet here you are. Sitting in front of me radiating strength and determination with a face more radiant than Amari.”

As he finishes his words, you can’t help but search his eyes. Of all the things you’ve heard from men before, none of them ever lauded you for your strength. Especially Garrick, as he was always a gentleman, but ever the tease.

“I don’t remember ever hearing about my supposed strength from you before.” You remark, still caught off guard by his admission.

The sardonic huff he gives in response reinforces the fact that he’d never deigned to tell you about such things before.

“I was a fool. Hell, I’m still a fool for never telling you how strong you are. How capable.” He pauses as if to collect his thoughts. “I always knew I loved you, but believing you were gone changed everything. Then seeing you after being tortured and now learning everything you’ve gone through; I’d continue to be a fool if I didn’t acknowledge how much stronger you are than I am.”

Shrinking back, you want to deflect the compliment. There was nothing strong about what you’ve done in your eyes. To you, every single thing was just a method of survival until your ultimate demise. Sensing your inability to believe his words, Garrick doesn’t press, but you know there’s more he wants to say. 

“Come on. Let me get you to your room and cleaned up.” Immediately you begin to push up on your hands in order to step away from the table, yet one second later your feet are dangling in the air again. 

A contented sigh leaves you lips as you let your head rest on Garrick’s chest the steady thump of his heart beginning to lull you to sleep. “I can still walk, you know.”

“I’m aware, but you were just mended and I’m here so I’m taking you to your room. Besides, you just almost bled out in front of me for the second time, I’m in need of some physical reassurance whether you like it or not.” Looking up through your lashes, you watch as Garrick’s eyes trail over your face, sure footfalls taking you straight back to your room. 

The usual sense of safety provided by Garrick’s presence letting you fall into a deep sleep before you even make it to your bed.

_______

“You’ve really got that man wrapped around your little finger, don’t you?” Violet’s voice filters through behind you as you turn to face her days later.

“Not nearly as much as you have Riorson wrapped around yours.” You quip back giving her a pointed look. She looks back at you and begins to flush sheepishly as you smirk. 

“Anyway…” She continues with a sliver of nervousness. “While those two are out on a patrol, I need to ask. Are you interested in doing something they would consider highly inadvisable?”

Cocking an eyebrow, you can’t help but be intrigued by her question. Of all people in this fortress, the last person you’d ever thought would ask for your help was Violet Sorrengail.

“Depends. Is it dangerous and will it piss them off?” You question a mischievous smirk painting your lips.

“Obviously. Would it be any fun if it didn’t?” Your eyes flash at her response before she continues. “Although this will require you to trust me and not tell anyone else.”

“Secrets, I can do. The trust, you’ll have to explain yourself a little more before I give that one up.” There’s no reason to mince words. You aren’t in the business of giving up your services easily, especially not if there is danger involved.

Violet goes on to explain her plan and you listen intently. There is no doubt in your mind that the minute Garrick hears anything about this he’s going to be furious, but as she finishes, you nod in agreement and both part ways going to pack for the next few days.

‘Are you always aiming to be in danger these days?’ Diomat’s amused voice floats to you.

‘Are you calling me reckless and saying you won’t take me?’ You retort, though a smile slides onto your face.

‘Of course I’m going to take you. And we both know you’ve always been reckless. Besides, when have I ever passed up the chance to create drama?’ You can’t help but throw your head back in laughter at your dragon’s response. 

Hours later, in the cover of night, you are perched atop Diomat’s back heading towards enemy territory, letting your mind wander. Night air calms your tumultuous thoughts, though they continuously float back to Garrick. Though you haven’t had an exorbitant amount of time with him since arriving in Aretia, it’s obvious the ways he’s constantly trying to be around you when not out on patrols.  

Every dinner he forcefully inserts himself in the space between your squad mates, whether or not he really fits in the small space. During sparring, he’s continually giving you critiques, even when he gets on your last nerve. His presence a constant even though he’s now a lieutenant. 

‘You’re contemplating on if he’s really regretful or not. Why?’ Diomat questions though there is no accusation in her tone, only curiousity.

‘I don’t know if I can trust that how he acts now is the truth.’ The answer is simple, but even you feel like there’s more behind it.

‘Truthfully? Or are you just afraid that he may hurt you again?’ Diomat cuts straight through your hesitance and pulls out what you’ve really been feeling. ‘Is it worth letting the hurt fester and not let him correct his mistakes?’

You huff at your suddenly philosophical dragon. ‘It’s not that easy to just let this go. He hurt me.’

‘Yes, he did, and I will bite off his hand if that would please you. But even I know that isn’t what you want.’ Diomat confirms blandly. 

‘I thought you were supposed to be on my side.’ You sass as you scrunch your nose in distaste.

‘I am always on your side, Bold One. But that also means I call you out when you’re in the way of your own happiness.’Diomat then goes quiet as you continue to mull over her words.

As you lay on your dragon’s back pondering over her words, the pull of sleep finally finds you as the sound of beating wings fill your ears, they rhythmic sound drowning out the tumult of your mind. For some reason, your dreams are filled with earnest hazel eyes and the warmth of broad arms wrapped around you. 

Hours later you are woken as the air begins to warm and the scent of salt wafts through the breeze.

‘Welcome to Cordyn, Bold One.’ Diomat confirms as you begin to question your coordinates. 

As your eyes adjust to the light, you squint into the distance at the shock of white that pours from the tall building in front of you. Not a building, but the most majestical palace that you’ve ever seen. Your eyes widen at the opulence that radiates from every pore. 

‘Seems they aren’t concerned about battle.’ You muse as you take in the gardens, pools, and extensively large columns. 

‘No, this is not a city concerned with the mundane colors of battle. Everything built here was strictly for appeasing the eyes.’ Diomat states, clear judgment in her tone.

‘We have an escort. Tairn has confirmed that Marbh will lead the riot, and his rider will handle the talking.’

You hum in an accepting response as gryphons begin to flank the riot that you are flying in the back of. It isn’t the first time in this trip that you feel slightly out of place between the Sorrengail siblings. 

As soon as Diomat touches down, you slide from her leg and give a thankful pat before she is airborne again. Walking up to the rest of the group, you scan the courtyard with sharp eyes before being stopped by a line of fliers. 

Commanding you to give a truth before gaining admittance and you quirk an eyebrow as you listen to the exchange, holding back a laugh at the older female Sorrengail’s response. As the flier’s gaze rests on you, you take a moment to consider before replying as well.

“I’m here at the behest of Cadet Sorrengail for my assistance.” A smirk painting your face as you stare back unflinchingly.

“Truth. Welcome to Cordyn.” The flier answers as he gestures towards the palace.

As the crowd parts, you let yourself take in the structure, eye immediately rising to the paned glass that spills out in all directions. For every ounce of fortress that is Riorson House, this is its absolute opposite in every way. It isn’t until you hear the siblings speaking in front of you that you bring your head down and your eyes meet none other than Xaden Riorson’s. 

You snicker as you come to stand next to Violet. “Good Luck Sorrengail.”

As you begin to walk forward, you feel a tug on your arm and turn to see an unamused face. “Oh no, you don’t. As it is I’m going to get my ass handed to me for you being here, so you may as well start sticking to Violet like glue from this point until we leave.”

“The wingleader voice isn’t going to work on me.” You sass back at Xaden, who is looking at you like you’re insane.

“I don’t care what works on you or not. You are going to follow my directions, because it’s now my job to keep my best friend’s girl safe and I’m not taking any chances.” He barks sternly; fury laden in every word. “With either of you.”

He finishes as he looks to both you and Violet. Violet has the good sense to give you a remorseful look before you find yourself being led by Xaden with Violet to his other side.

You tune out the conversation around you as your aggravation at the man next to you grows. It isn’t until he begins issuing the warning of your safety that you tune back in.

“Of all the reckless, idiotic things you could’ve brought her into, did you have to bring Y/N with you?” Xaden asks clearly annoyed with Violet. 

“Speaking of, aren’t you on the same squad as Garrick? Why exactly didn’t you just tell him to join you?” The questions slip past before you can think better of it.

Xaden turns to you giving you a pointed look. “Firstly, I was hoping Sgaeyl was wrong. Secondly, the last thing I need is Garrick making another scene if things go sideways with you.”

“Oh, because you are so well known for your own restraint when your precious Violence is in danger.” The quip lands as Xaden glares at you, clearly unamused.

Indignation fires through your veins as you begin to stomp away from the group. Though you are stopped in your tracks when a man dressed in a midnight blue tunic is standing in front of you like he’s a king surveying his subjects. 

“Ah, here are our guests.” He says, his tone silky and slightly disconcerting.

You let yourself melt into the back of the group, weighing your ability to make good choices once again. Eyes constantly scanning your surroundings as you walk, you can’t help but take in the beauty of the gardens, flowers and plant you’ve never seen before peppered in every corner of the manicured lawns. 

As soon as the obvious owner of the palace stops speaking, you begin to follow the group again. Your mind is stuck in a sense of wonder as you take in the white marble and richly appointed furnishings, opulence dripping from ceiling to floor. Before long, you feel Mira pulling you into a bedroom as Violet and Xaden continue to bicker behind you.

“Please tell me being with Tavis isn’t like that all the time.” Mira questions as she clearly is debating her sister’s relationship choices and you let yourself laugh at her clear disgust.

Giving her a thoughtful look, you let yourself reflect momentarily. “No, he’s just as protective, but less intense I suppose. Before war games, he never really challenged my abilities, but since leaving Basgiath, he’s been a little ridiculous in his protection goals.”

Turning back, she gives you a considering look. “Oh yes, you’re the one he thought was dead.”

At the comment, you can’t help but flinch a little even though she’s quick to correct herself. 

“I just meant I can understand getting more protective, considering he thought he lost you and then found you for you only to be unconscious and beaten.” Saying it so matter-of-factly makes it seem more like a slap to the face than you’d thought, but Mira turns before continuing. “If it were me, I’d probably do the same.”

The conversation is broken as Violet strides into the room and slams the door causing you both to turn. 

“Let’s get this fucking over with.” Violet says striding towards the dresses in the corner of the room. You turn to Mira and you both look at each other with raised eyebrows, obviously clocking the argument that just took place between the two lovebirds.

You pick a simple black satin gown, the material flowing like liquid down your form, but you don’t let yourself revel in the feeling. The only reason you’re here is to utilize your powers to help retrieve the luminary. Before the three of you step out of the door, both Mira and Violet stand in front of you, and you take in every single detail in their dresses. 

As you file out of the bedroom being led by a girl that you can’t remember the name of, you stay silent. Conversation drifts around you as you continually scan your surroundings and the people in it, taking in every detail you can. As you get closer, you pull on Diomat’s power and let it slowly trickle into your body and hope that the plan will work as seamlessly as Violet had proposed. 

Entering the formal patio, you watch as Xaden steps up to Violet and you stand slightly off to their side with Mira. When a wall of shadow is erected around the couple, you turn to Mira and snort at the appalled look on her face. Shadows finally falling back into place, Viscount Tecarus slides up to the couple and stands directly in front of them. Undoubtedly, they are the entertainment for the evening whether for good or evil on the part of the Poromish, you are unsure.  

As the viscount explains exactly what he is expecting of Violet, Xaden motions you to move forward as Tecarus continues to speak. Without looking at you, you hear his words float to your ears.

“I assume that there is some kind of plan you both had.” Xaden states as if he knows exactly why you’re here. 

“Of course, and now it should be even easier.” You whisper continuing to look forward. “When Violet heads down to the arena, cover her in shadow and she’s going to search the library. I’ll be headed down to the arena.”

“How are you going to replicate her signet.” He asks, clearly unsure of what is about to happen.

“That is where you get to watch and find out.” At that answer Xaden turns his head to you and you smirk back.

“I’ll be going with her.” You hear Mira confirm to Tecarus, before you walk up next to Violet’s side. 

“I’ll make sure she gets to the steps.” You say nonchalantly and begin pulling her arm along.

“Are you sure you can do this?” Violet whispers as you begin walking towards the pit. 

“I guess we’ll find out.” You comment before turning to look at the crowd behind you. From what you can tell, the only person looking at you is Xaden, so you take the time to change your appearance. Mira’s gaze jumps between you and Violet, giving a small shake to her head before grabbing your arm.

“Be quick Violet.” Mira says as you begin descending the steps with her. Violet disappearing into the crowd. “Tell me you have the same daggers as she had on her now.”

“Why? Are you afraid dear sister?” You chuckle, even though it’s all out of nerves. She gives you an unamused look as you both settle to the floor of the arena. 

As you scan the area, there is nothing but grassy earth all around the oval arena. The walls around stand as high as Diomat and are nothing but dull grey stone as if any variation in tone has been leached from the boulders. Continuing with your observations, grunts and heavy footfalls seem to be coming from a door that looks as if it was hewn from the wall itself. 

In the next few moments there’s a large chest being hauled by two guards and you can’t hide the confusion on your face. Your mind clicks as you realize this must be the target that Tecarus was referring to, though the intricate piece of furniture seems an odd thing to destroy. One guard comes forward some kind of mechanism twisting in his hands and when he raises it to a hole of the same shape in the doors of the chest, something clicks causing the doors to swing open. 

With a loud clang, a body falls to the ground, your eyes widen as realization comes slamming in. Your mind screaming danger and legs willing you to run as fast as you possibly can.

Venin.

‘DIOMAT!’ Screaming down your bond, you try to breathe and think through a semblance of a plan. Never once in the few times you discussed the plan with Violet did the possibility of a venin joining in cross either of your minds.

‘Focus, Bold One. You must focus. I’m on my way.’ Diomat tries to assure you as you watch the venin tear his body from the ground and lurch with unnatural speed to the nearest guard, unceremoniously draining the life from him in seconds.

“Shit!” You yell as you feel for the sheathes on your legs. Looking down, you’re thankful to find at least one alloyed dagger on Violet. Before you can even unsheathe it, you see a gleam of metal fly in your peripherals.

“Don’t!” You say as Mira throws one of her daggers towards the venin, a moment too late in your warning. He easily dodges it and picks it up turning the tip on both of you.

“My, My. My Sage will be more than happy for me to bring you back dear mirror.” The male rasps as his eyes focus on you. “You’ve just started to tap into your power. It will be astonishing to see where this power lies.”

“Over my dead body!” You retort as a noxious smile spreads on the venin’s face. Slowly, your feet begin to back away, your elbow prodding at Mira back towards the stairs.

“That can certainly be arranged.” He confirms as his hands fall to the arena floor. Your eyes fly wide, and you finally turn to Mira pushing her towards the stairs. 

“RUN! Get to the stairs now!” You yell as you try to run as fast as you can. Running as swiftly as your legs will carry you, you don’t let yourself look back. Legs begin to tangle in your skirts as you try to kick up your pace. Power beginning to crackle under your skin, the flood of Diomat’s influence coming as never before. 

Trying to calculate the best area to strike, you pull the alloyed dagger you have. Estimating the force and distance in your mind, you pinch the tip of the dagger and throw at the same time two additional ones hit the field of the arena. Turning you see that your aim was slightly off, and you caught the venin in the arm, not enough to kill him, but the alloy is obviously affecting his ability to channel from the ground.

Relief is minimal as the realization of the amount he was able to drain in such a small period of time. 

As you look up, you see Violet running around the side of the arena, clearly trying to find a place to wield without being caught. You continue pushing Mira, the steps finally coming into clear view. 

‘Tairn is following the Silver One’s plan. Be ready to be grabbed.’ Diomat’s words hit you at the same time as a large talon wraps around your waist and lifts. 

Not even a second later, the entire field lights up with bolts of lightning so bright the small hairs of your arms feel singed, and you must squeeze your eyes shut against the brightness. As you are flown away from the arena, you let your disguise drop and look up to realize that the talons you are in are not Diomat’s, but Tairn’s. 

Minutes later you are being lowered to the marble patio and let yourself crumple to the floor. Footsteps rushing towards you, looking up you are met with two sets of similar worried eyes.

“Are you alright?” Violet asks as she tries to help you stand from the floor. You look back to her and shake your head in confirmation, too shocked to form words. 

Brennan quickly follows as he steps up next to his sister. “She may be alright, but we have other problems.”

As he finishes speaking, you let Violet grab your arm and tug you to your feet. Stepping back towards the balcony, every one of you stops as you are brought face to face with another issue. Shadows pour from different areas of the palace and writhe only to converge in one place. As you examine their target, your eyes fly wide to find Viscount Tecarus hoisted by the shadows with a furious Xaden standing in front of him.

Violet immediately breaks from the group rushing to Xaden’s side. She doesn’t say anything to him out loud, but he turns in her direction as she touches his arm. Two seconds later, he turns to you, looking you up and down as if checking every inch of you for injuries. 

“I’m not sure which one of you is worse.” Mira says shaking her head looking between you and Violet. “I’m almost certain the two of you are trying to give Riorson and Tavis an aneurism.” 

You give her a deadpanned look before speaking. “This was all your sister’s idea, thank you very much. I’m not usually in the market to sign my own death warrant, contrary to all the recent events. And I certainly didn’t sign up for another round of hovering from Garrick.”

Mira huffs a laugh at your response before you both turn back to the situation unfolding in front of you. As Brennan and Violet finally calm Xaden and the decision is made to retire and change, you go to turn but are instantaneously stopped by a band of shadow.

“You aren’t going to keep this from Garrick.” Xaden sternly states as he walks up next to your side. You open your mouth to protest, but Xaden cuts you off. “You’re going to tell him all about your escapades and this is the last time the two of you make any more ridiculous plans.”

“This is the first time this has even been a decision I’ve made, dear Lieutenant Riorson.” Your fury at constantly being the reception of ire between him and Garrick snapping the thread on your nerves tight. “The last few times were at the directives of yourself, the Lieutenant Colonel, and an action that I wasn’t even a part of, so don’t lecture me on my decisions.”

The look on his face brooks no room for argument, though the last place you are going to get into a fight with him is in front of a room of gryphon fliers. With your foot put down, you turn and immediately head back to the room that you got dressed in, not interested in speaking to any of your companions at this point.

Choosing not to participate in the negotiations and having to deal with the shadow wielding asshole and his reckless partner any longer, you let yourself relax on the bed until all your companions have left the room. As soon as the voices begin to disappear in the hallway, you spring up and pull on Diomat’s power again.

Taking a moment to remember the details of one of the fliers that was close to Tecarus, you let the form settle over you before you step out of the room. Now disguised in a flowing red gown and long dark locks, you let yourself float through the hallways, pulling on memory to return to one of the gardens outside the fortress. As you descend the stairs, you let yourself breathe in the night air, aromas of roses and jasmine penetrating the saltiness of the sea air. 

Meandering slowly and absorbing the air, your fingers begin tracing the buds of the flowers that seem to spring out of every single space in the perfectly manicured garden. Trellises entangled with vines of night jasmine have every single one of your senses calming. It isn’t until you hear the crunch of gravel that you realize how much you’ve let your mind wander. 

Spinning around, you are met with a face you’ve never seen before, and your senses rise as you realize you are masquerading as a woman whose name you don’t even know. 

“I’m surprised to find you out here while Riorson is still inside.” You can’t help the uptick of your eyebrow at the statement. Whoever you are mimicking has apparently been entangled with the man you were trying to get away from. 

You shrug your shoulders and move to walk away. The minute any words leave your mouth there will be no way to mask the fact that you aren’t really the girl this man thinks you are. 

“Come on, Cat. Can’t you just give me a chance.” You glance back at the man still calling out, but let your strides lengthen before hiding behind a manicured hedge of a gryphon. Warily, you let Diomat’s power drop and let your form settle back on your own, relishing in the comfort of your flight leathers and move to the next garden. 

“I think your specialty must be doing things you aren’t supposed to.” Brennan’s voice floats to your ears as you study the wings of a butterfly that landed directly in your path.

“No one said I couldn’t walk the gardens.” You snap back, though there is no heat behind your words. “People just seem to enjoy dragging me into deathly predicaments and I have to get myself out somehow. I’m not usually the one getting myself into them.”

“No, but you should know better than to just go wandering in enemy territory.” You instinctively bristle at Brennan’s chiding tone.

“I would say I’m sorry, but I’m not. I needed a semblance of peace after that lovely performance that I was forced to participate in. Not to mention Riorson getting on my last nerve.” You snark though you don’t miss Brennan’s slight chuckle at your jab at Xaden. 

“Either way, I need to escort you back. We are leaving in just a little bit.” Brennan explains while motioning you to lead the way.

“I assume that you accomplished what you came here to do?” You question as you fall into stride with him. 

“Yes, thanks to both you and Violet, the luminary will be coming back with us – along with a hundred flier cadets.” Brennan confirms. As the words hit your ears, your steps falter as you look sideways at the older man.

“Did you just say flier cadets?” You ask in amazement, though its more from the audacity of the thought.

“Yes. That is part of the negotiations.” The tone he uses confirms that everything is finalized, but you’re anything but convinced. 

“You seriously think that an entire fortress of riders is going to welcome fliers with open arms? Were you dropped on your head as a child? Or was it the nearly dying that did your head in?” There is absolutely no way that Brennan thinks this could possibly be a good idea. You shake your head at the cheek of this ask.

“Both riders and fliers will just have to get over it. If we don’t work together, there is no way we are winning against the venin.” His tone is flat, one of command that seems to think there is no way this won’t work.

“Oh, I don’t doubt that, but I also think this is going to be more of an issue than you realize.” Without waiting for a response, you let yourself back into the room and grab your pack before walking back to Brennan.

No one speaks as you all begin your walk out of the palace and back to your dragons. The tension between the siblings and Riorson heavy enough to cut with a knife, so you let yourself relax on Diomat’s back and try to let your mind settle for whatever you are going to have to face when you arrive back in Aretia.

Hours later, you’re blearily blinking your eyes trying to hold off on sleeping until you can collapse into the warmth and security of your own bed. Before Diomat can even touch down, you are rising from your seat and grasping at the familiar scales, dismounting from her foreleg. Between the length of your flight and weariness, you don’t want to wait any longer than you must for the others.

It seems everyone is eager to be back at the fortress though, because not even a minute later, you hear the strides of your companions right behind you.

“Riorson!” A booming voice calls as you are walking back towards the fortress, a shiver of realization of who the voice belongs to hits you right before the strike. 

Of all the things you expected coming back to Aretia from Cordyn, the last thing you figured would be Garrick’s fist colliding directly with Xaden’s face. You finally get a good look at Garrick’s face and murderous intent is plastered plainly there, in the direction of his best friend. 

“What the fuck do you think you’re doing?” Garrick continues to challenge Xaden as the two have now turned to face each other. You can tell Xaden is trying not to react, but that doesn’t stop the irritation on his face and the way his fists clench.

“Garrick, it wasn’t Xaden. He only came after Sgaeyl alerted him.” Violet tries to placate the situation, but it’s obvious that Garrick is more than keyed up after the incidents you’ve had with Xaden recently.

“You don’t see me putting the woman you love in constant fucking danger, do you?” You watch as the vein in his jaw feathers, displaying how hard he is clenching his teeth to keep himself in check. 

Not waiting on what’s going to happen, you walk up to the rage-filled man and pull him down by the collar of his flight leathers. The sudden movement jerks his face to yours, but since he wasn’t expecting it, his fingers dig into your arms in defense as you bite back a whimper of pain. 

Realization hitting his golden eyes, Garrick immediately drops his hands and the malice that was shining there a moment before turns to sorrow. His eyes begin darting around your face looking for injuries and a moment later you are plastered against his chest.

“Why is it always you?” Garrick breathes into your hair.

“I think you’ve asked me that already.” You snicker back even though you’re more than aware the man whose chest your head rests on is not amused.

Unceremoniously, you find yourself being pulled by your arm away from the group and towards the small garden in the front of Riorson House. Garrick doesn’t speak, his body tight with tension, as he leads you to the bench and forcefully plops you down onto it. 

Your lips thin as you look up at him in clear aggravation, eyes tracking him as he takes large strides, pacing back and forth in front of you. Though the look morphs when suddenly he is letting out a laugh as he stops facing the cliffs in the distance, your brows drawing in at his reactions.

On a dime, he swivels, his face directly in front of your own as he crashes down to his knees. Taken aback, you startle as his eyes bore directly back into yours. 

“Are you insistent on sending me to meet Malek early? This is the second time I’ve come back to Aretia from a patrol and found you in some ludicrous situation.” His tone shifts as he continues, rising and going back to packing in front of you. 

“In all of our time at Basgiath, you were never this difficult.” As the words escape his mouth, you vision turns to red. Your eyes flash, gaze cutting directly up to the hazel ones that can’t seem to stay in one spot. 

“I didn’t ask for this!” You rise, along with the tone of your voice, indignation coating every word. “If I remember correctly, it was because of you! Your involvement in this rebellion, your involvement in stealing weapons that ended me up on the cadre’s bad side.”

This time it is Garrick’s turn to have his features turn, clearly displaying he didn’t dissect his words before letting them spill from his mouth. The regretful look he’s giving doing nothing to calm the ire that’s built after all these months. 

“Then, I get tortured as fucking bait, because of YOU!” The hold you’ve had on your temper has long since left and you let your words fly, not caring if they cut or how deeply. “I end up being almost choked to death, because the Aretian leadership wanted to see my signet, by your fucking best friend no less. Showed my signet because I was asked, and then I get sliced in the side because the riders in this semblance of a college are just scared children.”

“And finally, the girl that you all seem to trip over your two feet for, drags me into her plans and I almost get fucking drained by a venin. All because a sadistic Viscount wants revenge on your same best friend who almost killed me.” Anger coursing through your veins like a wildfire, you finally shut your mouth and look back at the insufferable man in front of you.

Garrick looks back at you, his muscles coiled so tight it looks like he’s vibrating. His eyes blaze with fury with your last statement, the normal soft color gone to give way to one that is hard and unyielding. You stand there, silent, breath coming in short pants, your body coiled and ready to fly at a moment's notice. Your voice becomes nearly silent as you continue.

“You’ve had every opportunity to confide in me. To include me in your plans, your life, the inner workings of this rebellion, but have you?” You let yourself quiet as you stare back into Garrick’s eyes. There’s no mistaking the plethora of emotions that he seems to be having trouble parsing through. 

“I know.” The admission is soft, a quiet breeze that barely floats to your ears. “I know that I’ve failed you. I know that I haven’t given you the knowledge you crave, the knowledge you deserve and for that I’m sorry.”

Garrick reaches out his hand and tugs on yours, fingers wrapping tightly around before clamping down tightly. A touch that grounds both of you, keeping you in the present. For a long moment, he stands there, a constant gaze staring right back into your eyes. There’s no waver, no hesitation in his eyes, but as you try to withdraw your hand, he holds on tightly, not willing to let go. 

“I never thought Zinhal or Loial would bless me with someone, especially not a woman like you.” As Garrick continues, you let yourself take a deep breath, willing the anger back to a manageable level. “At seventeen, I watched as my father was burned for his role as Fen Riorson’s right hand. Experiencing that was devastating enough to a teenage boy who saw his father as his own personal hero.”

Stopping his story, you hear the shaky breath that Garrick takes before bringing his gaze back to yours. “But what truly broke me, was when my mother be executed at our home not even a day later.”

The silence that followed his statement was deafening, not even the breeze dared to break it. You could only stare back at the man who you had always seen as unbreakable, a pinnacle of strength. 

“They had captured all the leaders, but for those not participating in an active role, they toyed with them, with us. Letting us all believe that we wouldn’t lose those people as well.” Garrick turns; his gaze set firmly on the mountain range in the distance. “Until noon the next day when an entire squad of infantry broke through the door of our home and dragged my mother to the courtyard. I was in the back of the house, trying to pull together firewood when I heard the screaming. I wasn’t fast enough. I didn’t even get to tell her goodbye, didn’t get to tell her how much I loved her.”

“Once I got to the front of the house, I was left with an image that will haunt me forever. My mother’s body laying in the courtyard, blood pooling around her, lifeless and still.” Searching Garrick’s face, you had never seen him look so tormented, as if the darkness was beginning to swallow him whole. “I can still feel her blood seep through the knees of my pants when I knelt next to her and cried, screaming for her not to leave me behind. I don’t know how long I stayed that way. By the time I came back to myself, the sun had set in the sky, and I was alone, cradling my mother’s dead body with no answers. No one to come and tell me things would get better, only the bitter realization that I was truly alone.”

You don’t know when it happened, but suddenly you realize there are two streaks of warm tears freely falling down your face. Grabbing onto Garrick’s hand, you try to coax him out of the trance that he’s fallen into, gently pulling him towards the bench that rests ten steps away. He follows blindly, eyes never leaving the hollow stare into the distance. 

Reaching the bench, you stand on top of it, dropping Garrick’s hand and moving your own to his face, slowly turning his towards you. With both hands gripping his face tightly, you look back at the man in front of you as agony so sharp winds around your heart and squeezes. His eyes are still vacant, the buried emotions trapped deeply inside, the only guaranteed protection in life and a childhood no one should have to experience.

Slowly he blinks and the expressive eyes that you’ve grown so fond of look back at you again, his head leaning into your touch. His hands come to your hips as he slowly steps closer, winding around you and pulling your body flush to his chest. 

“When I saw you at parapet, it was like a switch was flipped, the darkness that had reigned in my mind gave way to light. It made no sense. I didn’t know you; you were just another one of the hundreds of cadets I saw walk through the rider’s quadrant. But as the days and months wore on, my entire orbit seemed to revolve around you.”

As he continued, you let your thumbs stroke his cheeks, your fingers bringing him back from the darkness of his own memories. “Then when the alarms sounded for war games and our directive was to Athebyne, I couldn’t do it. Xaden offered me the option to take you, but I wouldn’t let him. I couldn’t. The minute I thought about it, instead of my mother’s blood being spilt on the ground, it was yours… and i – it terrified me.”

Time seemed to stop having any semblance of meaning. You both stared back at each other, your vision unwavering. Without pretense, you let your head drop, your forehead leaning on Garrick’s, though your thumbs didn’t stop their incessant stroking. You heard and felt the shuddering breath that left Garrick’s lungs, a force of emotions that had been trapped inside of him far too long. Moments after, the hot stain of tears started to flow between your fingers. 

“So, I took the coward’s way out, I told you a flippant lie that I figured I could apologize for after war games were over.” A sardonic huff left his mouth as his eyes closed, halting the stream of tears. “Flying back, I was so happy. I thought I made the right decision, until we landed, and it was as if a knife lodged in my throat, and nothing would pull it out.”

“All I could see was the picture of you as my mother. Bleeding to death on the field where I’d never be able to reach you. Where I would never make it to save you.” He closes his eyes once more, as if the weight of the words were too heavy.

“Do you know I went to Eltuval before reporting to Samara?” He questioned as you shook your head, still attached to him. “I made Chradh stay there for an entire day while I searched for you. I scoured every single ounce of perimeter and of course found nothing.”

“I will never be able to apologize enough for all the ways that I’ve hurt you, my family has hurt you, or the way you’ve had to be wrapped up in things you didn’t get to make the decision for. But I never once, want you to ever believe that I wouldn’t set every single thing to flame just to make sure that you are safe. That you are still breathing and happy.”

“My reasoning may not make up for everything you’ve gone through, but I need you to know that every single decision I’ve made regarding you is because I love you. I love you so fucking much that every time I think I’ve lost you, I think a little bit of my soul dies along with yours.” Your breath catches, every piece of you unsure of how to process all these new revelations. 

“I never meant to control your agency.” Garrick tries to pull himself away, but your hold on his face is unwavering. 

“Yes, you did.” You state back, matter-of-factly. “But now I know why you did. I just wish you would’ve trusted me with this information sooner, even if for no other reason than understanding.”

You finally pull yourself back and step off the bench, slowly depositing yourself onto it. You tap the bench next to you in direction for Garrick to sit. He wastes no time and sits down next to you, but before you can speak again, he pulls you effortlessly onto his lap. His arms slide around your waist and takes a shuddering breath before burying his face in your hair.

You let your head fall to his and his hold tightens pulling you impossibly closer. Settling into Garrick’s grasp, you let yourself melt into the arms of the man holding you, all while letting your mind race on how to move forward. Everyone knew of the horrific deaths of those involved in the Apostasy, but hearing about how Garrick lost his mother, your heart hurts for the man that has you plastered to him. 

Is there any lifetime in which he will be able to let go of the nightmare he’s lived? The nightmare that they all had to live with.

You let yourself turn in his grasp and let your arms drape over his shoulders in a crushing hug, your face moving to the crook of his neck. If nothing else ever blossoms between you both, that doesn’t mean you will let Garrick face his feelings alone. In the quiet of the garden around you, the promise to be his shelter from the storm of emotions and life solidifies in your mind. Never again will you let this man be left abandoned.

________

The next days bring their own challenges besides just your relationship with Garrick. You finally seem to find your place in Aretia. The members of your squad that defected from Navarre and Fabien keeping your mind occupied when the darkness threatens to pull you under. Between your own torture and then learning of Garrick’s experiences, your brain had been conjuring ideas that had kept you more than awake the last few days.

The weight of exhaustion pulls heavy on your limbs as you stand at the bottom of the Medaro Pass with the rest of the cadets. As much as you wanted to rail at the situation, the exhaustion pulling on you kept you silent.

‘This entire situation is ridiculous. You have no reason to be on that pass with the rest of the cadets that haven’t proven themselves like you have.’ There was no way to shield from the displeasure that Diomat voiced. In fact, she had been mumbling her discontent with the situation for the last few days.

‘Every single cadet is here. For some reason the great Aisereigh seems to think this will be a bonding exercise.’ You wanted to roll your eyes, but even your eyelids were tired.

Trudging forward, you did everything you could to keep your eyes forward and focused on the path laid out in front of you. Lightly stepping to the edge of the trail, you took a chance looking over the side and your eyes went wide at the sharp drop that you’d experience if you took one step to the right. Shaking your head and the thought of falling from the cliffs, you looked back forward trying to focus on the obstacle in front of you. 

At least you tried until a sharp screech rent the air. Blood running cold, there was no way to mistake the creature that was about to be flying above. The sound of the piercing screech branded into your memories.

‘Looks like there’s a guest we need to entertain.’ You purr to Diomat, your energy perking up, along with adrenaline.

‘I believe Tairn’s rider thinks she will handle the situation.’ Diomat relays, but you can tell by her tone that she won’t let your talent be assuaged.

Glancing further down the trail, your eyes fly wide as you see the ruckus that has broken out. You don’t miss the bloodied snow and the tears streaming from a few faces. 

‘Well, she may want to, but she looks a little busy currently. Let’s show her how it’s done without the light show.’ Diomat hums in agreement and out of the corner of your eye you see her unmistakable form coming towards you. 

Swinging your gaze left and right, you move as far back on the trail as you can and then sprint, jumping off the side of the pass. Letting the cacophony of screams and shouts drown out from your ears, you narrow your gaze and focus on the large wyvern circling the precarious position of your fellow riders.

‘Ready?’ You question Diomat as you begin to pull on the well of your power. 

‘Always.’ Diomat confirms as she begins to climb in altitude bringing you closer to the wyvern, wings tucked tight in a burst of power. 

Opening her maw, Diomat lets a warning stream of fire flame into the path of wyvern’s next sweep. Suddenly distracted by the movement, the grey beast changes course and begins its swift course of interception, straight at Diomat’s neck. Wasting no time, you let your appearance change swiftly disguising yourself, again masquerading as the venin you want the beast to believe you are.

‘On the next dip Bold One.’ Diomat orders and you rise to your feet and edge towards her foreleg.

In the next moment you are airborne, alloyed dagger gripped firmly in your hand, biting wind whipping your changed form with a ferocious bite. This time you don’t let your eyes close as you drop onto the unnaturally smooth back of the grey beast, a familiarity that causes you to shiver in rememberance. The wyvern must register your landing as it begins to thrash, sensing its intentions, you don’t let it buck you before slamming the dagger into its already scarred side. Learning from your previous mistake, you immediately begin to slide down the side of the wyvern’s body without hesitation. The rush of winter clouds begins to fly past you, the cold moisture settling into your bones as you are freefalling back towards the cliffside. 

Before you can even register the rocky terrain clearly, familiar scales are beneath your feet and you crouch to absorb the impact of landing in the middle of Diomat’s back. As soon as you are stable, you let yourself move to her seat and set yourself down firmly. Closing your eyes for a moment, you force out a heavy breath, rife with the sweetness of victory and bitter taste of memory. As the adrenaline begins to crash, you feel all your limbs turn limp, the rush of the attack still fresh in your mind.

‘You did well, Bold One. And without the dramatics of the lightning wielder.’ You don’t try to stop the laugh that bubbles out of you at Diomat’s slight of Violet. 

‘There’s not always a need for a flare of dramatics, but I’m unsure if Riorson and Sorrengail know that.’ You quip back between laughter, a knowing look lighting your eyes at their shared flare for drama.

Turning, you lock eyes with Brennan Sorrengail, and he gives you a nod in thanks for the assistance.

‘Marbh’s rider has confirmed he wants us to continue monitoring the skies. I hope you’re interested in some solo flight time.’ Diomat smirks with a sense of satisfaction pouring from her side of the bond. 

‘I’d love nothing more.’ You reply, though there is no way to keep the smirk off your face. 

The remainder of the trek is uneventful, in the air at least, but you take the time to enjoy the feeling of freedom and solitude. The days and nights of constant noise and other people having drained you in ways you never realized. As night begins to fall and the final cadets make their way inside of Riorson House, you breathe a sigh of relief, a thankful sense of safety settling in your bones as everyone is decisively past this hurdle. You know that things will only get more difficult with the fliers, but for the time you relish in the steady presence of your dragon and the fact that you will get the chance to fight another day.

____________

Settling into the rhythm of classes again proves to be harder than you thought. Every class you stepped into was a bubbling cauldron of tension, always one slip from boiling over. Riders and fliers constantly at each other’s throats proved less than ideal for a learning environment of any kind. The only thing you were thankful for is that you didn’t have to be involved in the mess that was Sorrengail’s squad as they seemed to bear the brunt of the fliers’ disdain.

At least that is what you thought until the professors decided that just having the fliers sitting in the same room wasn’t enough. A sour look crawled onto your face as you learned of the fliers that would soon be joining the ranks of your squad. It wasn’t that you had anything against these specific people, but you knew it wasn’t going to be an easy transition. 

Especially since they would be out for blood considering the news of the challenges that would take place the day before all the squads were merged. 

Waking up that day you didn’t think anything of the coming challenges. Hand to hand had ceased to be a major point of concern since you had started training with Garrick and then continued to challenge yourself with multiple opponents after he graduated. 

Entering the sparring gym, there was no way to miss the buzz in the air, a scent somewhere between fear and bloodlust permeating from every single person. Taking stock of everyone gathered there was no way to miss the nervous energy in the small space, people shifting back and forth, the sound of steel being sheathed and unsheathed in nervous habit, sweat soaked brows permanently etched with concentration and revulsion. 

“Y/N L/N versus Vanessa Nash.” Devera shouted from the front of the room. 

You turned and looked towards the mat and quirked an eyebrow as a female flier cadet stared at you. Confusion pulled on you again as you watched the girl that was obsessed with Riorson whisper something in her ear. Looking back at your squad, all you received were the same looks of confusion. 

“Go give her a run for her money. Show her who’s the real boss in this fortress.” You turned back to your best friend and gave him a huff of a laugh, the smirk pulling at your lips showing your confidence in his words. 

As you stepped up to the mat, there was no way to miss the way your opponent’s eyes flared with anger as if she was privy to some type of information you didn’t know. 

“That’s the best you’ve got? I would’ve thought Garrick would’ve gone for someone accomplished at hand to hand.” Your eyes flew wide as you continued to settle into your fighting stance, though you couldn’t help but fight the confusion. How did this girl know Garrick? His name drifting from her lips with a sense of intimacy that made you uncomfortable.

Before you even had a chance to register and dissect her words, she was lunging. It didn’t catch you off guard though, you knew better than to let words distract you in a fight. 

“I’m not sure Garrick’s preference in hand-to-hand skills has anything to do with who he decides to spend his time with.” You retort, though your mind can’t help but feel sluggish suddenly, a haze seeming to fall over your thoughts. Slipping past her lunge, you backed up a few steps letting her dictate the pace. 

“Don’t worry. I’m sure he’ll remember soon enough who he’d rather spend his down time with.” The flier continues to taunt, but you can’t help but scoff at her though feelings at the edge of you mind seem tamped down, as if everything isn’t as sharp as usual.

‘Reinforce your shields. Now.’ Diomat’s commanding voice cuts through your hazy thoughts and you shake your head trying to clear the fog.

Before you can rebalance yourself, your head swings to the side, pain blooming along your jaw as your opponent takes advantage of your distraction. Taking a few steps back, you take a breath and reinforce your shields, settling back into a fighting stance. 

“I’m not sure where your obsession comes from, but if you want to monopolize his time, be my guest. I’m not going to fight you over a man. We aren’t together and if that’s what he chooses, then fine.” As if your words were a taunt, Vanessa lets out a frustrated scream before she’s lunging for you again. 

Bringing your right arm up to block, you take the hit on your forearm, but don’t waste the opportunity and sweep her legs out from under her. As soon as she hits the mat, you drive your knee into her back and trap her arms, letting her squirm as you tighten your hold and bring your mouth close to her ear.

“Do not mistake me for someone easily cowed by others, if you are jealous, then take that up with Garrick. But know this, he is not something to be owned, he makes his own decisions, if you disrespect his choices, I will show you how good at hand-to-hand I can be.”  You challenge before bringing your face back up to look at the others gathered around you.

As soon as you hear Devera call the match in your favor, you release your opponent and step back, never giving her your back. Though apparently the control she exhibits is non-existent as she gets up and immediately charges towards you. Without missing a beat, you pull the dagger you had kept on you and bring it directly up to her neck. 

“I’ll give you one more chance to back the fuck off before I let your blood spill.” You purr, the threat heavy in your voice. “I’m not scared of you or any of your companions, but I can promise that if you try anything, I won’t hesitate to use every tool I have to make you miserable.”

Vanessa looks back at you, eyes flashing with fear and anger, clearly expecting you to be some meek opponent and surprised to be wrong. She lets out a frustrated huff before one of her squad mates tugs on her arm, pulling her in the direction of the other fliers.

Suddenly you notice the quiet that has seemed to take over the entirety of the mat around you. Turning to your squad, you can’t help but quirk an eyebrow in question.

“Gods, its good to have you back. We missed your brand of fire a little too much.” You can’t help the smile that cracks your features, though you wince as the bruise on your jaw pulls. 

As your squad leaves the rest of the challenges behind, you are caught in the sea of bodies trying to move between rooms in the fortress. A hand begins to tug you towards a door and thinking it’s a member of your squad; you follow the tug but are surprised when a familiar hulking frame finally comes into view.

“Did you need something Lieutenant Tavis?” Garrick turns and the warmth in his eyes is a welcome reprieve to the hostility that has seemed to be in them previously. 

“What happened?” He asks as he finally seems to clock the new bruise that you are sporting. 

“Hmm, maybe you can enlighten me.” You let your tone change to a challenge, interested to see exactly how Garrick will react to your next words. “Fliers and Riders were able to challenge each other today and I was challenged by a flier. You wouldn’t have anything going on with someone named Vanessa, now, would you?”

Garrick’s face pales instantly, all the blood draining from his coloring, and his lips pursing as if tasting something sour. 

Clocking the reaction, your eyes flash. “So, are you going to explain yourself or just going to sit there looking like you’ve seen a ghost?”

“Four fucking hells.” He says while running a hand through his curls, beginning to pace in front of you. He turns his face to you, and you cock your head to the side, giving him the invitation to explain.

A gruff, frustrated growl leaves his lips before he begins. “As I’m sure you’ve gathered by now, there’s a history between Catriona Cordella and Xaden.” You nod in acknowledgement; you never wanted the details, as the last thing you wanted to bother with was the spectacle that was Sorrengail and Riorson’s tumultuous relationship.

“When Xaden’s father arranged the betrothal with Catriona, I was brought with him to Cordyn. Fen thought it would be best that Xaden had someone of his own with him when all the arrangements were being decided.” Garrick continues as he begins pacing again, not really looking anywhere particular, as if unsure whether to meet your eyes. “We were teenage boys and there were pretty girls. Catriona was a piece of work, as I’m sure you’ve realized, but the others around her worked hard to show us the palace and welcome us as best as possible.”

“We started visiting more often, Tecarus and Fen hoping that Xaden and Catriona would naturally develop a relationship or at least foster respect from repetitive meetings.” A sardonic huff leaves his lips as he shakes his head as if reflecting on the memories. “They eventually figured out a way to be around each other, without being at each other’s throats but that left me roaming around the palace looking for something to do.”

“Or someone.” You couldn’t help but interject. Clearly you hit the true root of the problem as Garrick came to a complete stop in his pacing while having his back to you. There was no mistaking how tense he was, every muscle in his back was coiled tight as if expecting an attack at any moment. Turning slowly, you watched as a muscle in his jaw feathered as he clenched it hard enough to break. Hazel eyes met yours and you didn’t miss the way they were measuring, trying to predict what you were going to do next. 

Garrick’s eyebrows shot up as you just gave him a motion with your hand to continue. His eyes darted back and forth as if uncertain on what he was seeing. Raising your eyebrows and giving him a look, he shook his head as if forcing himself from a daze. 

“As you say, or someone. So, I got involved with Vanessa.” A heavy sigh leaves him, and he pinches the bridge of his nose, obviously annoyed with himself and the situation. 

“I – I never exactly broke it off with her.” He adds hesitantly. “Xaden visited Catriona himself once bonded, and I would accompany him, but I never let myself be alone with Vanessa again. I thought she would’ve gotten the hint, but evidently, I was mistaken.”

Garrick brings his hand to your face and strokes the blossoming bruise on your jaw. “If what I just had to deal with is anything to go by, I’m thinking she’s still waiting for her chance.”

There’s no missing the way Garrick’s eyes darkening, the grip on your face tightening slightly. “She surely didn’t hold back from utilizing her mind work during our mat-.”

Before you can finish your statement, Garrick is furiously striding out the door. Your eyes fly wide, and you rush to follow him. “Garrick. Stop.”

“No. I’m going to put that little girl in her fucking place. If she dares user her mind work against you again, I will bury her.” The menace in Garrick’s voice is something you’ve never heard before and makes your hackles rise in both fear and aggravation.

Picking up your pace, you run to finally catch up to your nuisance of a bodyguard. You finally cut off his strides and he doesn’t stop in time, bringing both of you tumbling to the floor. The air rushes from your lungs as Garrick’s full weight falls on you, along with his twin swords. 

“Don’t you think you two could keep it in the bedroom, please.” A smug voice says from the doorway you had just passed. 

Your nose crinkles at the words as Garrick quickly gets to his feet and is reaching to help you up. As you sit up, you sputter a few coughs trying to regain your breath. 

“Fuck off, Riorson. Don’t act like the entirety of Aretia doesn’t know when you and Violet are occupied.” Garrick snips at the voice, though he never looks back, his eyes still fussing over you.  

“True. But we aren’t exhibitionists.” Xaden continues with laughter in his tone, but Garrick scoffs as if he’s privy to some information that you’re more than okay with being excluded from. 

Finally catching your breath and tired of their bickering, you pull the arm of Garrick’s flight jacket and lead him to the large doors that are looming before you. As soon as you are through, you turn to him with an exasperated sigh.

“You can’t fight my battles for me.” You quip as your hands fall to your hips. “I don’t care about your relationship with Vanessa. I was never naïve to think that there weren’t dozens of conquests for you before I even entered the quadrant. Besides, I don’t need another target on my back because a previous fling thinks you’re trying to protect me. In case you haven’t noticed, the minute you try to be overprotective, I seem to get hurt worse than if you left it alone.”

Your words hit exactly as you were hoping they would, and Garrick immediately deflates. 

“I don’t know what to do with myself if I can’t try and protect you. At this point, I want to be anywhere you are, any time I can be, and the only way I seem to be able to do that is by trying to protect you.” Garrick grouses like a child that’s been denied their favorite candy. 

You can’t help the laugh that bubbles out as you shake your head. 

“How about you try helping me train? Or with runes?” You say as your laughter begins to die. “I haven’t had time to get back to my strength before being tortured.” 

You don’t miss the darkness that takes over Garrick’s eyes as you mentioned the torture you endured. Your body and mind had slowly been healing, but there was no way to evade it in the nightmares that still stole your sleep. 

“I’m behind others in runes from being out of class so often.” You admit, though you can’t help the next jab. 

“And someone didn’t leave me fabric and a book of knots so I would be ahead of everyone else.” You let the smirk blooming stain your lips as you knock into Garrick with your shoulder. His own huff of laughter leaves his mouth before he’s looking down at you again. 

There’s no mistaking the affection shining as he looks down at you, the flecks of blue in his eyes dancing at the playfulness you’ve given him. Taking two steps forward, he grabs your shoulder and pulls you forward, wrapping his arms around you as soon as you hit his chest.

“I’ll do both. You don’t need to convince me to spend any of my time with you.” He looks down at you, eyes still twinkling. “Honestly, if it were up to me, you’d be glued to my side every minute, of every day.”

“Oh, Lieutenant Tavis, I would be careful of what you wish for.” You can’t help the tease as it leaves your lips. Your head begins to bob against Garrick’s chest as he lets out a booming laugh, the sound bringing a smile to your face, that for once in a long time, reaches your eyes.

________________

As you stand in formation, you wrinkle your nose as the fliers joining your squad slot themselves into your ranks. As if Zinhal decided you’ve had enough luck, Vanessa stops right in front of you, a sneer slicing her face, disdain covering her eyes as she looks you up and down. You let one eyebrow rise, a clear challenge of her perusal. 

Devera begins giving directives, but her words are broken over the beat of wings as a riot moves past on their way to the valley. There’s no mistaking Sgaeyl and Chradh heading up the front of the line, though the real surprise is when you hear the gasps and conversation around you. 

Before you even have time to look, a shadow looms behind you and strong arms wrap around your waist. A gasp of shock escapes you and a shiver crawls down your spine as you turn your head slightly to see a windblown mop of brown curls, the only thing visible with Garrick’s cold face plastered into the crook of your neck.

“Uhm, we’re still in formation, Lieutenant.” You whisper for only Garrick to hear. 

“Mmhmm, I don’t give a flying fuck. I missed you.” Garrick whispers into your neck, his warm breath ghosting over your neck. 

“I believe the stares I’m getting might make you retract that statement.” You say, though there’s no way to hide the amusement in your voice while you stand looking back at Vanessa’s shocked expression.

“Nope, don’t fucking care.” Garrick returns while tightening his hold. His warm breath escaping as if he’s been holding it in for too long, the feeling ghosting across your neck.

You snicker as he continues to hold you all while meeting the faces of fliers and other members of your squad, a wide range of emotions playing across each and every one. A throat clearing finally brings Garrick out of his trance as he finally raises to his full height to meet the less than amused gaze of Professor Devera. 

“Lieutenant Tavis, I believe both you and Lieutenant Riorson are due to debrief the Assembly.” Devera states, although the glint in her eye says she’s more amused than agitated as her gaze swings between both men. “On top of that, their dragons are waiting for them to mount for their exercise.”

As she turns to walk towards the rest of the squads, you don’t miss the huff of sadness that leaves Garrick’s lips. Turning your head, you give him an unimpressed look, all while he just looks back with big, sad eyes. 

“You’ll be fine. I’ll take good care of you today, Honey Bear.” Xaden teases as he clasps his hand on Garrick’s shoulder.  

The pet name leaves Xaden’s lips so casually, you don’t try and stop the laugh that escapes you. If nothing else, its entertaining to see the tease of a man finally getting some back. But never one to be outdone, Garrick doesn’t miss a beat.

“Oh, thank you, Sunshine. I thought I’d be all alone. I���ll feel extra safe since I watched you take down that venin outside of Draithus.” Garrick chimes back, clearly trying to get under Xaden’s skin. 

“What?!” Violet quips while looking Xaden up and down, trying to assess for injuries. 

“Thanks for that, asshole!” Xaden’s eyes flash as he grouses at Garrick, before he’s smirking as well. “Maybe I should let your girl here know –“

Xaden’s train of thought is immediately cut off as Garrick swings his fist towards Xaden’s head, though clearly not meant to hurt. Xaden glares back at his best friend and you roll your eyes trying to draw the two men apart.

“You going to tell me what that was about? Or should I just worry that some other secret is going to come swinging for me?” You ask as soon as you get Garrick further away from Xaden. 

Garrick takes a deep breath, and you don’t miss the deadpanned look he gives you. “No, he was trying to out that I was a beat too close to getting drained by a venin in the same attack.” 

Now its your turn for your eyes to fly wide in surprise, darting left and right as if you’d be able to sense any injury to the man in front of you. 

“I’m fine.” He protests, though you’re uncertain when you see the mischievous glint in his eyes. “Are you trying to imply that you’re worried about little old me?”

Now it’s your turn to return the deadpanned look, lips thinning at his ribbing. “If you’re going to act like that, I’ll take my affections elsewhere.”

You turn sharply, intending to stomp away from the infuriating man, but before you can take two steps you find yourself wrapped in his embrace again. Turning in his hold, you wrap your arms around him and take a deep breath, relieved at knowing that he’s safe.

“I’d love to stay here, but if you don’t let go soon, I’m afraid Devera won’t be as nice about it.” You murmur into his chest. Garrick huffs a slight laugh before he begins to release you, though its slower than you would’ve expected, as if he’s afraid you’ll disappear if he lets go too fast. 

“Come find me when you get back. We can work on runes to get you caught up.” A small smile on his face as he begins walking backwards, away from you.

“Yes, sir, Lieutenant.” You sass with a mock salute, but you don’t miss the flare of fire in his eyes before you are turning and heading for Diomat and the rest of your squad. 

___________

“This is not what I expected when we were told we’d be searching for runes.” You grumble as you feel the snow of the mountain begin to sop into your boots. Scrunching your nose in distaste, you continue behind those that seemed to have mastered them. 

Your attitude isn’t helped as you must travel behind Vanessa, the girl constantly turning back to you with another sneer on her face. You try to breathe deeply and let the mountain air cool your rising aggravation, but at about the fifteenth time that she dares to turn, you’ve had enough.

“Can you please stare at something or someone else? I’m about fifteen seconds from throwing you off the nearest cliff.” Your tone is clipped, the annoyance floating through every word. 

“I don’t think I’ll ever be able to understand what exactly Garrick sees in you. Littered with scars and the personality to match, seems like more of a chore to deal with you than a privilege.” Your eyes flash with anger and it takes every ounce of restraint in your body not to lunge at the girl and fulfill your promise. 

However, there’s no way to hold in the growl of frustration and there’s your mistake. No matter the way her words seem to rot into your core, you should have remained silent. Realizing too late, you look up and monitor the snow, suddenly sure that you should’ve just kept your mouth shut and endured her stare. Eyes nervously darting back and forth, you hope beyond hope that the precariously coated mountaintops will keep their mounds of snow right where they are.

“Lets just get this exercise over with so we don’t have to be in each other’s company any longer.” The only words you can get out through your grit teeth, the level of your voice so low you know only Vanessa can hear you. 

“What? Is it too intimidating to be faced with the fact that you’ll never be good enough for Garrick? That you’ll always be beleaguered with scars and cracks that nothing will ever cover?” The words again stick in your gut, churning into an acidic sludge burning in their ferocity. Who is this girl to give voice to some of the things you’ve always thought about yourself? To correctly judge you in a way no one else seems to do, as if she can get into your mind and examine every single insecurity.

“Stop.” A male flier steps up to Vanessa and tugs lightly on her arm. “We’re standing precariously on a mountain beset in snow. Now is not the time to act petty.”

An eyebrow quirks at his words, but you have no time to dissect them when you hear a crack of ice. Eyes instantly shooting to the peak above, fear begins to tighten your insides as there’s no way to stop the avalanche of snow if its precarious position changes. 

“Get moving before we all end up off the side of the cliff.” You whisper harshly, hoping that they take the warning for what it is.  

They begin to step forward, but as you continually monitor the snow, you can’t help but worry about the shifting you see from smaller piles near the edges of the cliff. Before you can take a step into the safety of the cave, a loud roar comes from somewhere within the mountain. Eyes widening in shock, you try to push into the entrance of the cave, but the slightly falling snow has now turned into an avalanche, each flake misplaced by the commanding roar. You push the flier in front of you forward, but your foot catches on a rock that was previously covered in snow, and you fall to your knees. 

‘Bold One!’ Diomat’s worried voice breaks your panic as you wrap your arms around your head to shelter yourself from the falling snow. 

Suddenly a burst of heat flows from above and you do your best to curl in as tightly as you can. Finally understanding the reason for the fire above you, you’re suddenly being doused in drops of hot water. You try to turn your head and see a flash of familiar scales, but as helpful as Diomat is by eliminating the weight of the snow, it doesn’t stop the falling stones. 

A blinding pain suddenly knocks into you as a heavy thunk resounds in your skull. Trying to open your eyes, the only thing you see is stars and blurring figures. You body starts to feel like its rolling on the ocean instead of steady on the side of a mountain, shutting your eyes tightly again you try to stave off the wave of nausea that threatens to overtake you. 

Muffled shouts sound from around you, you’re not entirely sure from where, but the echoing pound in your head causes everything to be drowned out. You bring your hands to your head and are suddenly aware of a warm and sticky dripping from the side of your face. Taking your hands from your face, your stomach revolts at the metallic smell that meets your nose, only enhancing the battering pain in your head.

After what seems an eternity of emptying your stomach, you look up to see several sets of black and brown boots around you, though their voices are still muffled from the pulsing in your head. 

A gentle hand falls to your shoulder and through the stars in your eyes, you meet the blurry gaze of your best friend. He tries to hold up his hand and ask you about the fingers on his hand, but you can’t seem to differentiate anything. 

Taking your non-confirmation as a response, you feel gentle hands roll you towards another leather-clad body. The only thing you register is the unusual color of the leather, something about the brown color confusing you before the nausea and throbbing pain cause the blackness to settle in. 

_________________

“Sometimes I think Tavis is right, your one goal in life is to be in lethal situations.” Your best friend snarks at you as you sit in your room trying to focus your vision, unsure of exactly how much time has passed since you passed out.

“This was absolutely not my fault!” You pout. “I can’t control another dragon’s roar firstly. And secondly, I’m not the one who organized that ridiculous rune hunt either.”

As you finish talking, you close your eyes trying to keep the nausea from clawing up your throat again. Though your actions seem fruitless when your best friend gets up from the bed and rocks your body, causing your vision to swim again at the change. 

A groan leaves your lips as you hear footfalls and the grogginess fogging your head the only thing you can focus on.

“Stop moving or making any noise. If you don’t, I’m going to puke on you.” You moan as you try to right your stomach again after the bed tipping. 

The room finally goes quiet as you try to settle back into the bed as slowly as you can. Before you can even register how dark the room has gotten, the blissfulness of sleep finds you again. 

The veil of sleep finally begins to lift, and you take a deep breath, eyes still closed as you try to assess the pain in your head.

“Will there ever be one time when I come back, and you aren’t half dead?” Garrick’s voice cuts through the silence causing your eyes to shoot open. “Or is that just going to be your perpetual state now?”

Your lips thin at his comments as you let yourself slowly wake up, turning your head, there’s no way to miss his large form sitting in the chair propped next to your bed. Though you can’t fully make out the look on his face through the darkness of the room.

“I’ll see what I can do about my inability to let other’s fall, Lieutenant.” You mouth, though there’s no real bite behind it. 

Garrick takes a deep breath as he rises from the chair and sits on the side of your bed. You brace yourself, expecting the nausea to hit you again, but you finally let out your breath when you realize it seems to finally have abated. 

“I think I’m going to request that you be sent wherever Sorrengail is not. Maybe then I’ll be able to keep you out of mortal peril.” Your brows scrunch as you absorb his words, though he continues. “It seems Andarna killed Solas within the cave network you were in. Your squad, unfortunately, seems to be the one that was closest to them.”

“Ah.” You say, because there’s nothing more to be explained. “So, you’re saying that Varrish and his fire breathing companion are both now dead, correct?”

A dark look passes over Garrick’s features, before he lays down next to you and pulls you forward to rest your head on his chest.

“Yes, it seems as though that issue has now come to a close. Although, that doesn’t stop anyone from taking their place.” You hum in acknowledgment, but between the warmth of Garrick’s body and the lulling rhythm of his heart, your eyes begin to droop again.

“Sleep. I’m not going anywhere tonight.” Garrick whispers as his arm tightens around you. His body a fortress of safety, a shelter in the storm of the life you’ve found yourself in.

_____________

Finally having an afternoon to yourself, you take the time to stroll into Aretia. The bustle of the city seems to settle your nervous energy. The smell of sweets wafting from the cafés, the sounds of children playing near the small school, the bustle of conversation within the market stalls, all combine to a sense of normalcy that you haven’t experienced since crossing the parapet. 

You relish in the simple pleasures of the day to day. Watching the blacksmith take orders, the farmers bringing in carts lined with vegetables, woodworkers turning wood for furniture, every single person engrossed in their daily lives. 

You’d once thought you’d feel like an outsider watching others live their lives, but instead it has seemed to bring you a peace you didn’t know you missed. 

A smile graces your face as you swing open the familiar door to Fabien’s café, the warm scent of coffee assaulting every single sense. Walking up to the counter, you hit the small bell and smile again when you hear a voice call from the back.

“One second!” Fabien’s voice echoes from inside the kitchen.

As you wait, you let your fingers rove over the cups on the shelves, the smooth velvet of the chairs, the worn wood of the counter, committing every single detail to memory. 

Everything an effort to try and get the pit out of your stomach. A stone that seemed to settle there this morning that will not dislodge.  

You turn around again as you hear the familiar squeak of the door separating the kitchen and the front. 

“What can I get for you?” Fabien says without looking at you and you smile.

“O – Oh! Hello!” He now greets as he looks back at you for the first time. “How have you been? I haven’t seen you since that ruckus in battle brief.”

“I’m doing well, thank you. Just came for a cup of hot chocolate and some conversation.” You admit. “I have the afternoon off and needed a distraction outside of the fortress.”

“Yes, it can get a bit stuffy in there.” A quick chuckle escapes your lips at Fabien’s quip. “Go ahead and make yourself at home. I’ll get your drink ready, and we can chat.”

True to his word, minutes later, you are holding a steaming mug of rich chocolate. You inhale, letting the sweet scent of the chocolate melt into your nostrils, the warmth of the cup chasing away the chill of your hands. Tipping the cup, you soften into the pleasantness of the liquid hitting your tongue, the pleasure dampening the weight of the stone in your stomach. 

“I hear you’ve been having quite the adventures lately.” Fabien muses as he clutches his own cup of the molten chocolate. 

You harrumph, not wanting to receive another lecture about your reckless ways. “It isn’t like I plan on most of these things. The only thing I could possibly be blamed for it willingly going to Cordyn.”

You pause, a thoughtful look on your face. “Let’s just say I’ll probably think twice about agreeing to any more of Sorrengail’s ideas.”

Fabien laughs at your words. “I think that would probably be wise. From what I’ve seen between her and Riorson, they seem to attract the wrong kind of, well, everything really.”

There’s no way to control the unrestrained laughter that leaves you at Fabien’s statement. 

“I see I’m not the only one that’s noticed that the opposite of luck seems to follow them around.” You muse as you take another sip. 

Several hours go by as you catch up with Fabien, regaling him with your travels to Cordyn, the introduction of the fliers, and the other changes that seem to take place in your life day-to-day. He in turn tells you of all the families that have flocked to Aretia and the way they have seamlessly integrated themselves with those that remained. The smile that you entered with, seems to be a permanent fixture to your face here, though it drops as Diomat’s voice breaks through.

‘It would be prudent for you to return to the fortress.’ Diomat orders, though her voice is laced with concern.

‘Why? What is going on?’ You quip back, irritated at the elusive responses from dragons.

‘I’ll let the Lieutenant inform you.’ She says before seeming to close you off.

Huffing, you bid goodbye to Fabien and begin to walk back towards the fortress. The stone in your stomach seems to return, especially with the ominous way in which Diomat seems to be guarding her words.

Strong gusts of wind tousle your hair as you make your way from the café, every step tightening the dread that has coiled around you as a second skin. You try to take deep breaths, but your heart begins to beat faster as you begin to lay eyes on the cadets that seem to be milling around. 

There are no smiles, no teasing, only dour faces, every single person that you pass looks as if any fight has been leeched from their eyes. 

What the hell happened?

Every worst-case scenario seems to flit through your mind as you make your way up the curving pathway. Eyes searching each and every person, you try to find a familiar face from your squad, but you come up empty. 

At least you thought you did, until your eyes lock on Natasha. The look she gives you makes your steps falter, there’s no mistaking the fright and worry, the way she holds onto another flier next to her. Without ruminating on who you’re about to address, you march towards her, desperate to figure out what exactly is happening. 

“What the hell is going on? Why does everyone look like we just lost a major battle?” You ask, hoping that for once she will put your differences aside and be straight forward. 

“There was an attack.” Her voice falters as she starts. “On Pavis. They were outnumbered and outclassed. The venin moved in and even with reinforcements they took the city.”

Only one word seems to click in your mind. 

Pavis. 

Garrick was near Pavis. 

Garrick, the man that you hadn’t given your heart back to. 

The man that you had fallen asleep with just days ago.

The thought hit you suddenly and the next thing you registered was the pounding of your boots as you sprinted inside of Riorson House.

Legs burning while climbing the stairs two at a time. Breath tearing through your lungs as you try to push yourself harder. You hadn’t waited to hear if there was anyone injured or dead, because you couldn’t possibly stand the thought that it could possibly be true. 

Breaking out onto the floor of the family quarters, you came to an abrupt halt as you tried to breathe oxygen back into your lungs. 

A smattering of movement at the end of the hall grabs your attention and your eyes flare as they land on the person. He’s covered in soot, every inch of him battle-hardened. Blood and grime covering every possible surface, but that doesn’t matter, because he’s standing. He’s walking and breathing. 

And looking directly at you.

Your mind doesn’t need to direct your legs, because they are again pumping through the roaring burn. Sprinting, you refuse to slow down, refuse to be gentle. The minute you are in front of him, your arms swing out and you’re throwing yourself at the man in front of you. 

Your arms tighten around his neck, face buried into his neck. He grabs you back just as fiercely, grabbing your thighs as you swing your legs around his waist. You don’t know when the tears started, when the wave of relief finally crashed over you, but now that you’re in Garrick’s arms, none of it matters. 

Nothing else matters except the man you are tangled in. 

“You’re alright.” The words leave your mouth in an almost inaudible whisper, but you chant them again and again like a prayer. An offering to any god willing to listen. 

A small laugh leaves Garrick’s lips as he kisses you on your forehead, resting his head against yours and at that moment every single wall breaks. 

They all tumble down. Every single brick you had erected around the organ that beats for the man whose embrace you’re locked in. Every insurmountable wall gone in seconds. 

Pulling your face back, you stare into the hazel eyes that have held your heart for over the last year, even through your anger. The eyes that you hoped would never look at anyone else the way they looked back at you now. 

Throwing every single worry about your relationship out the window, you grab Garrick’s cheeks and search his eyes, unsure of what you’re looking for. 

It’s the crinkle at the ends that finally pushes everything else away. Tightening your hold, you surge forward and capture Garrick’s lips in a kiss you can only hope was worth the wait.

In answer to your question, Garrick’s grip on your thigh tightens as he brings his other arm to wrap around your waist. His grip strengthening so there is no space left between you. You don’t hear the click of the lock or the closing of the door, but the remaining breath leaves your lungs when he pins you to the door. Even breathless, you can’t bring yourself to stop kissing him. Every nerve in your body singing with the fire that you’ve only felt with him. 

It's Garrick that breaks the kiss first, pulling back to rest his forehead on yours. 

“Gods. I will fight for that for the rest of my gods damned life if I have to.” He pants, trying to regain his breath. “I can’t fucking lose you again.”

Your eyes lock on his and you’ve never seen the blue and gold flecks shine so brilliantly, each speck shining with a look of love so strong it would knock you down if you were standing. 

He walks backwards, but you stay wrapped around him while he sets himself down in the plush chair in his room, never breaking contact. Both arms now wrapped around your waist, pulling you as far into him as he possibly can. 

“I – I thought...” You trail off not able to give life to the thought of something happening to him, the words lodging in your throat. 

“I know. But I’m here.” He says placatingly, clearly knowing that you need the reassurance. His fingers absentmindedly tracing circles onto your waist. “I’m here and I’m not going anywhere, and neither are you.”

A small huff leaves your mouth at his words, but your heart swells at the thought.

“As much as I want to take this at your pace, I – I just can’t do that anymore.” Garrick murmurs, though you don’t miss the plea in his voice. “I need you here. To be wrapped in my arms at night. To be able to kiss you and remind myself that you’re still here. To cover you in every ounce of love I can possibly give. I refuse to give you up. For as little or as much time as we have left together.”

You let his words settle, bringing your hands to his face, fingers stroking his cheeks gently before replying.

“Okay.” Simple and straightforward. There’s no question left in your mind now. The fears of being hurt again, fading to the background, gone with the possibility of losing him. 

“Okay?” Garrick responds, clearly surprised by your easy agreement. 

“Okay.” You repeat as you place a soft kiss on his lips in confirmation. 

The movement causes a smile to break out on Garrick’s face as you back up slightly to take him in. A matching smile paints your face as you take everything in, which quickly turns into a giggle when Garrick picks you up and spins you around and burying his face into the crook of your neck. You continue to laugh, happiness overtaking all the concern and worry. 

“Ugh!” You exclaim, though its barely heard through your laughter. “You sir, need a bath!”

Turning his eyes to you, all you see is mischief and the smirk on his face before he’s manhandling you into the bathroom and turning on the tap with lesser magic. You shriek but that does nothing against his grip on you.

“You said I needed a bath, and I told you I need you here.” Garrick teases before you are suddenly doused in the cold water of the shower. 

“I hate you!” You shriek as you shiver under the cold water.

“No, you don’t.” Garrick murmurs in your ear, but every ounce of mischief has gone from his tone. “You love me, and I love you. And from this day on, you are only mine.” Each statement punctuated with a lingering kiss to your face.

As he finishes speaking, he looks back to you with a reverence that you’re unsure if you deserve, but you don’t have time to think before his warm lips draw every thought that isn’t him from your head. The cold water completely forgotten, you let yourself melt into the warm embrace that only Garrick can provide. The electricity of his kiss, his touch, confirming what you already knew. 

There is no way you’ll survive without this man.

Taglist: @ilovetomtailor@nevermoresworld@nastylicious@iambored24601@mysticalfuncollectorus@sadpieceofbread @thatonegameaddict @lagrandeourse @sleepisfortheweakpooh

[violentdelightshavevioletends]

Onyx Storm

— Ending Theory #1 —

MAJOR SPOILERS!!!

Question/Theory (1): There is a new Venin, who is it? I believe this to be Garrick Tavis because of the following:

"And now that my Sage has another sibling he can use against me...I'm screwed. I glance past Berwyn, past Sgaeyl and the venin, to my new brother and the unconscious dragon lying in the valley beyond the canyon, guarded by seven wyvern. How could he do this? Choose this after watching me stumble and fall over the last five months. How could he willingly walk the path l've fought like hell to leave? He's the last person I ever would have expected to turn, and yet here we are. I can't let Sgaeyl die. Can’t leave him to stumble down the same path I did." — Xaden Riorson, Chapter 65.

The 1st confirming of a “new Venin brother” passage which shows us that:

This is a male identifying character hence “he”.

The terminology is “new brother” meaning it is not someone such as Bodhi Durran, as in Chapter 58 —“Theophanie glances at Brennan, then Bodhi. "I didn't ask for either of you to attend." "I thought you requested brothers? Next time be more specific about who's invited," I suggest.” — he is already addressed as such.

Someone who has seen Xaden fighting not to channel because they know he is Venin (this limits us to a small group of people) & someone Xaden trusts (an even smaller group of people now) and who has been with them for the past 5 months (at the very least; presumably making it someone on the front lines and Quest Squad).

And someone Xaden “cannot leave” (like a best friend).

Adding onto it are these quotes from Imogen Cardulo & their chapters information as a whole, showing that:

"I notice the circles beneath his beautiful eyes, the unusual pallor of his complexion. He's exhausted, and for the first time in my life, I don't care that he's seeing me at my weakest, because he's right there, too. My chin tips in a nod. "All right." He moves quickly to the step beneath us, kicking something out of the way and gathering both of us into his arms. I lock mine around Quinn so she doesn't slip as we're lifted off the floor, and the landing beneath us loses its color. "Let's get you out of here." — Imogen Cardulo, Chapter 63.

Garrick is burnt out at best, and at worst already channeling (it is dark in the first scene; the circles beneath his eyes could have been Venin veins; while this is unlikely, as she does still call his eyes “beautiful”… Imogen is noted to struggle to meet anyone’s eyes in the following passages, so it’s possible she doesn’t note it while already in this state of shock).

There is also the possibility that “the landing beneath us loses its color” was not all due to other dark wielders; it may have already been Garrick as well.

Rebecca takes the seemingly unnecessary time to point out Garrick “kicking something out of the way” only she very rarely puts something pointless in her writing (& while I’m unsure of what it would mean, there is potential that it is hinting at something) & along the same note; the tense of Garrick’s phrasing is “you” not “us” (this may hint that he knows he will not be leaving this battle).

Finally, it’s worth noting that in this passage Garrick has just lost another friend (another one of the rebellion) making him not only wracked with grief but even more desperate to save Imogen (as the last book showed that mixture is rather dangerous when it comes to creating Venin).

& as he next states: "It's still not enough." Garrick's head hangs as he stands. "I can't..." & the following:

"Where are you going?" I shout at Garrick's back. "I can't walk again. Even if I made it to Aretia, I'd never be strong enough to get back," he calls over his shoulder. "So, I'd better find some fucking way to do something."

He is going out alone, to find a way to do something, dare I say anything. That is the last known sighting of him.

Not to mention that Chradh has made 0 appearances (making it feasible for him to be the “unconscious dragon” in reference).

And that he is powerless at this point. Yet, he is also one of the few riders who could possibly get to Riorson in time (let alone be helpful in the following “mysterious” & presumably chaotic 12 hours that then follow).

In that, we can also presume a few things from Chapter 66:

"Official numbers are four riders, their dragons, and three elders murdered in the valley in what we're estimating is the last few hours," Weilsen says. "And we still have five riders missing—four now," he adds, looking at me. His mouth tenses. "But after that display, we all know Riorson did this. I bet the other three are already dead." — Weilson, Chapter 66.

While we do not know who the (now) four riders are (aside from obviously Xaden) it does show that it is primarily dragon riders that are missing (again upping the odds of one in three being Garrick).

“The last few hours” meaning this all occured after Violet “went missing” and the “new Venin brother” went with—well—whomever they went with… possibly making a bigger spectacle, then the one earlier (and being that one in reference instead).

Again, as stated; Garrick also has the powers thanks to his second signet (which was specifically introduced in this book) to assist in the spread of said “display” and desecrations all across the battlefield (even if they are most likely Xaden) he is the signet match for any and all… he and Xaden very well could’ve gone to find the other “traitors” using Garrick’s teleportation & Xaden’s inntinsic skills, thus seemingly killing the three “elders”.

Finally, these last portions to the point:

"Do you know where he is?" Brennan asks me softly once the other rider is fully out of earshot. "Riorson? You heard what Weilsen said. We have dead dragons and riders and missing eggs, and if you've seen Riorson, I need to know, Violet." "I..." Words fail me. Why can't I think? "I don't know." I raise my hands to my mouth, and a piece of parchment in my front pocket catches on my arm, then falls. Brennan catches it. "Cardulo?" He lifts his eyes to Imogen. "I haven't seen him since yesterday," she says, her voice low, almost monotone. "Lieutenant Tavis?" "Among the missing," Brennan answers gently, then glances my way and does a double take. "Holy shit, Violet." "What?" I lower my arms. Garrick is missing, too? Who else makes up the four riders Weilsen mentioned? "Your finger," Imogen says, then stares at the ground. — Chapter 66.

Imogen has not seen XADEN since yesterday, she does not specify upon Garrick. …If she had seen him, she would have good reason to keep it a secret (as if she already didn’t for Xaden alone; though she definitely would’ve been more inclined to help with his favor)… and while she does ask (which leads me to believe she does not know for certain) I think it is a pointed question not of “please let him be alive” and more of “please let me be wrong” with whatever she does know. & again this would add to her completely numb/in-shock heartbroken can’t-look-a-soul-in-the-eye nature here; as she loves Garrick! So, if he turned she would also be joining the “heartbroken wives” club (that I have a feeling Violet and Cat will be forming in the next book… along with the likely subsection of “dissapointed/disgruntled mothers” for Sgaeyl; cause hell hath no fury like a woman blessed by Dunne, and seeking revenge to rescue her lover from himself). And as we all obviously know Imogen does know something! (She didn’t have to look first to tell Violet to check her finger) like I said she can’t look her (or anyone) in the eyes (not until Violet asks that darn right single question “What did you do?”). And while Brennan doesn’t seem shocked to see her (Imogen) she very well may have been among the missing riders (seeing as Violet sneaking in to find her prior to Brennan seems unlikely & difficult under the current discourse).

*edit* as I’m re-reading this Chapter 11 prologue from Iron Flame felt enough like foreshadowing to add it onto here:

"Garrick has always been my best friend. His father was my father's aide, which in a way makes him my Dain, except trustworthy. After Liam, Bodhi was and still is the closest thing I have to a brother, perpetually tagging along a step behind. —Recovered Correspondence of Lieutenant Xaden Riorson to Cadet Violet Sorrengail"

[azsazz]

Drown in Me

Garrick (Fourth Wing) x Virgin!Reader

Summary: Anon Req: well I absolutely love Garrick. I just know he is such a softie with his partner. Just imagine that you too hate each other but something change during a mission or something and in a two simple word,, you fucked ". And you're virgin and he is so gentle and after he is so sweet.. Ohh I love this man

Warnings: Angst, smut, oral (f receiving), fingering, consensual sex.

Word Count: 4417

Notes: DOES NOT CONTAIN SPOILERS FOR ONYX STORM.

I hope whoever requested this actually ages ago is still around. Sorry it took me so long. I'm obsessed with the beginning, it was so much fun to write 💙

_________________________________________

Chradh lands in the middle of the flight field with a roar that shakes the walls of Basgiath.

It’s directed at you, you know it is.

There’s no ducking away from the golden, narrowed gaze of the brown scorpiontail, nor his equally pissed rider. You swear Chradh is glaring at you, and he huffs a breath that reeks of sulfur.

Uisge, your green daggertail, growls low in his throat. He stands tall behind you and equal parts of you want to preen and run, because standing between two dragons is never a good idea.

The Section Leader is not pleased, Uisge notes, and yeah, you already knew that.

Tell me something I don’t know, you retort, but lift your chin as you watch Chradh’s rider dismount with a grace you can only wish to emulate someday.

Your breath sticks in your throat at the sight of Garrick, despite the anger written clear on his face. He runs a hand through his now dry, wind-blown black hair, and you’d laugh at the way it sticks straight up if yours wasn’t still plastered to your skull after the unexpected dip you took during flight lessons today.

The Section Leader is not a strong swimmer. You wince. Yeah, that was found out during flight lessons today, too.

You’re frozen beneath that harsh look Garrick pins you with as soon as his boots hit the ground, his hazel eyes glowing with fire. He’s more than angry, he’s fucking fuming, and your boots squelch as you shift your weight to your other foot. You wince as the water from the soles of your boots floods your feet again. You hope you don’t look like a drowned rat.

More like a tiny, water-logged sheep, Uisge adds unhelpfully. Your shoulders fall in defeat. But a tiny sheep with sharp teeth. Head up, little one.

And well, a sheep with sharp teeth is better than a sheep with no teeth at all, so you raise your chin and patiently await your punishment.

Chradh pounds his strong wings, lifting from the ground, his annoyance with you and Uisge clearly over with. You’re sure the two male dragons are speaking through their mind connection, but you’re thankful that Garrick’s dragon is leaving the scene, even if everything that happens here will be seen through your section leader’s eyes.

It’s better not to have the audience for the reaming out you know you’re going to receive.

Much to your chagrin, Uisge follows.

Wait. Where are you going? We should be bearing punishment together! You can’t leave the sheep to face the wolf, you argue, because Garrick most definitely looks like a wolf right now.

I eat sheep and wolves for breakfast, Uisge replies. Is he insinuating that he’d like to eat you? You’re sure you wouldn’t taste good. And neither of them is secretly trying to fuck the other.

You gape, swinging your gaze to your dragon, but Uisge’s back is to you as he flies toward the vale, his daggertail sweeping in the wind.

Garrick approaches, the hilts of twin swords glow in the sun as it beams across the flight field. He could kill you in more ways than one with those weapons, and others, too, according to the neatly aligned patches that trail down the right arm of his flight jacket. Your jacket is bare, with the exception of the lousy wing and year patches you carefully sewed on. You’ve been awaiting receiving your signet patch, and maybe after what happened in training today, Garrick will get on that for you.

A distant roar has you realizing that you shouldn’t be lingering in the flight field lest the next wing prepare for training, so you spin on your heel and start for the courtyard.

Garrick catches up to you quickly, his strides longer than yours. His fingers are tucked into fists at his sides and there’s a low warning growl in his throat that tells you he’s not pleased with the way you walked away from him.

“What the fuck was that back there?” He questions, and you can hear him struggling to keep the anger from eking into his voice. Too late for that, you can hear his frustration clear as day.

Your boots squeak with each step you take and your damp leathers are beginning to chafe against your skin. Being in the blistering sun isn’t helping in the slightest, and you really wish your room was closer to the flight field right now.

And yeah, perhaps slipping off of Uisge’s back during flight maneuvers wasn’t your smartest decision, but you needed a bigger body of water than the bathtub to work on channeling your signet, and this was the only way you were going to get that done.

You didn’t expect Garrick to dive after you.

“I already told you; I slipped.”

“And I already told you,” Garrick scowls, and it twists the pink scar on his jaw in a way that makes you want to trace it. “I don’t believe you.”

You set your jaw as you make your way up the stone stairs, trying not to cringe when every step fills your boots with water. You release your tense shoulders and attempt to drain the liquid from your clothing with a flick of your hand, but all you can manage to do is propel the water from your leathers into your boots.

It’s infuriating.

“You haven’t fallen off Uisge once during flight training, and all of a sudden, a few weeks after your water wielding signet appears, you go tumbling off into a lake?” He asks it like you think he’s stupid. You think he’s far from stupid.

I don’t, Uisge says, and you force your walls up with all of your might.

He’s been watching you?

You mutter, “I didn’t think you’d follow me.”

“It looked like you really fell off! You were under the water for longer than you should’ve!” Garrick says, and you frown. You couldn’t have been under the surface of the water for more than a few seconds. “What the hell was I supposed to do? Let you drown?”

He was much closer to drowning than you were, little one, Uisge’s voice creeps through your mind and you have to force the smile threatening to split your lips away.

“Uisge knows what I’m capable of,” you argue, but it falls flat at the outright disbelief on Garrick’s face.

“He knows what you’re capable of?” He scoffs, then tacks on a dry, mocking laugh. “You can barely even power an ink pen, for Amari’s sake.”

That’s because you’ve been focusing all of your energy on training your signet. Much more important that being able to power a stupid ink pen, in your opinion.

You stay silent so long that you’re on your floor before you know it. With an angered flick of your wrist, your locks click and your door opens an inch. You want to growl in frustration, that door should’ve swung open and stuck in the wall with the anger you attempted to force into it.

You’ll get there, little one, Uisge’s voice trickles through your walls. There really is no getting rid of him.

Leave me alone, Uisge.

I do not take orders from you, he retorts, but you feel him draw away nonetheless.

“Look,” Garrick sighs, shutting the door behind you with lesser magic. It’s an easy move that you have yet to master. “I can’t lose one of my riders to their own stupidity. I won’t let you.”

As his words settle in, you’re all too aware that he’s standing in the middle of your room, only a few feet from you, and the door is closed.

“I wasn’t going to die, Garrick. I knew what I was doing,” you answer, shrugging out of your flight jacket. Although it is no longer water-laden, the temperature in the room has risen, and you need out. You hang it on the back of your chair, missing the way that Garrick’s hazel eyes drink in the sight of the rest of your flight uniform. Today, you chose something thin and lightweight so you aren’t weighed down by the water you knew you were going to practice in. “I promise. You don’t have to worry about me.”

“I do, though,” Garrick swallows, and you watch the way his throat bobs. Fuck, he can’t believe he’s doing this, but here the fuck he is, about to confess what’s been haunting him for weeks. You.

“Why?” You surprise him by saying. You cross your arms over your chest, not realizing that the move pushes your breasts higher. In your haze of annoyance, you fail to catch the way his eyes dip down for a peek. “I don’t see you jumping off dragons after any of the other riders!”

“That’s because I don’t have to worry about them,” he argues, taking a step closer. You’re a defiant little thing, so you move closer, too, which leaves your crossed forearms brushing his chest.

“You don’t have to worry about me!”

“I do!” He all but roars. You rock back on your heels in surprise but catch yourself.

Garrick runs a nervous hand through his hair. He’s no longer meeting your gaze, instead staring out the window over your shoulder. Something’s wrong. Something he clearly doesn’t want to tell you.

“Why?” You whisper.

“What?” He croaks; throat raw.

You glare up at him. You wish he would look at you. “Why do you have to worry about me?”

“I—” he trails off, helplessly, and you can see the way he’s talking himself out of admitting what’s on his mind. Maybe he’s even talking to Chradh.

“You what, Garrick?” You prod, an icy bite to your tone. “You think I’m weak?”

“No,” he answers vehemently. His gaze zeroes in on yours and he looks at you like he can’t believe you even said that.

“Then what is it?” You demand. “If it’s not because I’m the weakest link, then why are you worried about me?”

“Because,” Garrick roars, crowing in on you. You fall back but he keeps pushing forward, until your spine slams into the wall and there’s nowhere else for you to go.

Your arms fall as you brace yourself against the wall. Garrick’s chest heaves, and you swear you can feel the rapid beat of his heart from how close you stand. His front is plastered to yours, and there’s a flutter in your stomach that swirls at the fire in his eyes.

“Because I can’t get you out of my fucking head,” he admits, tone taking on a soft edge that converges right between your thighs. Your gaze flickers from one hazel eye to the other, confused at his sudden revelation. “Doesn’t matter where you are, what time of the day it is, you’re always on my mind.” He lifts a hand and gently brushes a strand of wet hair back that clings stubbornly to your cheek. The heat of his skin is searing, just like his words. “It’s like you’re a second Chradh,” he laughs drily, “Though you’re much prettier than him.”

You’re pretty sure that this isn’t real life. That your section leader didn’t just admit the very same thing you’ve been feeling for him since the first moment you laid eyes on him. It must be real, because you’re here, pinned to the wall by his big, strong body, and he’s looking at you like you might just reject him.

And you don’t know what the fuck to do. Sure, you’ve kissed people before, but you’ve never done anything more. You know for a fact that Garrick is well-practiced, with those broad shoulders and handsome face, his deep, dark hair and bright eyes that could surely turn anyone into a puddle.

The words stick in your throat. You don’t know what to say, where to start, and the longer you’re silent in front of him, the more apprehension creeps into his eyes. He shifts uneasily, and you wrack your mind for a response.

Ugh, just kiss him already, Uisge’s voice pops into your head.

Not now, Uisge, you bite, and then you heed your nosey dragon’s advice, and kiss Garrick.

You can tell he’s caught off guard by the way his body stills against yours. Still, you push onward, making it known that you’ve wanted him just as long as he’s wanted you by dragging your palms up his chest, reveling in every ripple of muscle you can feel through his flight jacket.

By the time your hands lock at the nape of his neck, Garrick’s hands are on your hips and his mouth moves against yours.

He lifts you into his arms, pinning you against the wall. Your legs wrap around his waist and he rolls his hips into yours as his tongue traces the seams of your lips. You gasp and Garrick slides his tongue into your mouth like he’s done it a million times. He brushes against yours tentatively, and when you don’t shy away from him, he advances.

One of his large hands slides up your waist, finding its way beneath the thin fabric of your shirt, exploring the smooth skin of your sides.

“You have no idea how long I’ve been wanting to kiss you,” Garrick mutters against the nape of your neck before sucking a harsh mark there. Your head thumps against the wall and your back arches into his body at the feeling of being claimed. It feels like threshing all over again, but this is better. Sorry Uisge.

Other than a rumble of protest down the bond, your stubborn daggertail doesn’t interrupt.

“How long?” you gasp when his lips find the spot that makes you melt into him. Your fingers scrabble against his flight jacket, nails scratching the thick fabric. Garrick growls in frustration, pulling back just far enough to drop his swords, unzip himself, and tear the fabric form his back. His black shirt follows, exposing those beautiful broad shoulders of his. You can’t help but trail your fingers across his pectorals and down his chest, admiring every inch of his body. Zihnal must be with you right now, because you’ve never felt luckier than you do right now.

“Since the day you chose Uisge,” he pants, helping you discard your own shirt. Your bra quickly follows, and Garrick’s hazel eyes latch onto your body like you’re the best thing he’s ever seen. Your nipples pucker under his heady gaze and he loses his train of thought in favor of bending down to suck a pert bud into his mouth, reveling in the way that you gasp and wriggle as he circles his tongue around the hard nub.

Threshing. He’s liked you since threshing, when you chose Uisge. You think it’s an odd way to phrase what happened that day, but in Garrick’s eyes, that’s exactly what it was. You, stubborn thing that you are, staring down the green daggertail with that look in your eye, the same one you always give him. The same one that makes his cock ache.

“Garrick,” you gasp, arching into him. He’s not close enough, not with your trousers still acting as a barrier from where he ruts his thick cock into you. Your fingers claw at the waistband of his pants. “Off.”

Garrick peels you from the wall, trailing his mouth back up to meet yours in a kiss that steals your breath. He’s very good at this, gentle, too, as he lies you on your bed and he works your pants loose from your hips.

“Fuck me,” he breathes when you’re fully exposed. A flush of red crawls up your body from your toes to your cheeks under that scrutinizing gaze of his. “Look at you.”

The sudden urge to cover yourself flares to life. You’re nervous, even more so when he drops his trousers and his cock bobs, heavy and swollen. Your mouth waters at the sight of him, all rippling muscle and perfect cock, his eyes only for you.

“Garrick,” you whisper, unable to keep the fear from your tone. While his cock is pretty, it looks like it’s big enough to rip you in half. You scramble away from him as he places a knee on the bed, feeling guilty at the confusion on his face. “I’ve never…” you trail off, cheeks burning red.

His uncertainty melts into understanding. “That’s okay, we don’t have to if you don’t—”

“No,” you protest, almost too quickly. Your voice has taken on a desperate volume, and you lower it before continuing. “I want to have sex with you, I really do,” you swallow, eyes dipping to his cock. It’s glistening at the tip. “I just wanted you to know, in case…” you trail off. In case he doesn’t fuck virgins.

The furrow between his brows creeps back. “I want you,” he presses, holding your eyes so that you know exactly how much this moment means to him. “If you want me, I want you. I’ve wanted you for so long.”

You nod, almost dazed. Even though he’s told you this already, the words send a current of excitement zipping down your body where it converges between your thighs.

You want him too.

“Come here, then, Garrick.”

He doesn’t have to be told twice.

Garrick kneels at the foot of the bed. He hooks his fingers around your ankles and carefully drags you closer to him, hazel eyes heady with lust. The effortless way that he tugs you to him has your pussy fluttering with need, a movement that he tracks.

When you near him, he slips from the bed, sliding to his knees. Carefully, Garrick tucks your legs over each of his shoulders, and you can feel each exhale he makes brushing your core. You bite your lip so you don’t release an impatient whine, but for Amari’s sake, you’ve never needed something so badly in your life.

“Is this okay?” he asks, tracing soothing circles into the meat of your thighs with his thumbs. He peppers kisses across the sensitive skin, grinning wildly when your hips buck beneath his mouth.

“Yes,” you moan, circling your hips as if to chase his lips. You want him on you now, licking you and teasing you and making you come on his tongue. “Please, Garrick, I—oh!”

You moan loud and wanton as the tip of his tongue flicks across your clit in an explorative swipe. Garrick locks that sound away in the back of his mind and dips down for another taste, scooping your slick up with his tongue. He’s going to enjoy the fuck out of drawing all these noises from you.

You’re fucking wet. The wettest pussy he’s ever had. You writhe against his tongue, panting and moaning at the different ways he uses his tongue. True to your stubborn nature, it isn’t long before your fingers are locked into his hair, guiding him while you chase your pleasure.

“That’s it, baby,” he says as he switches from tongue fucking you to sucking harshly at your clit. He nips at the joint of your hip when you keen in frustration. You even go so far as to lift your head from the mattress to glare down at him. His eyes fucking glow in response and he holds your needy gaze. “Take what you need.”

There’s a smart retort on the tip of your tongue but it melts into a moan of pleasure when his lips wrap around your clit and he sucks. Garrick adds his tongue into the mix, flicking it across your clit like he’s flipping through a never-ending deck of cards. When he adds a finger, your pleasure grows. When he adds a second, your orgasm crashes down around you in pure bliss. He doesn’t stop his attention on your clit until you’re a whining mess and trying to shove him off for a moment of reprieve.

“You did so good for me,” he murmurs across your skin, lips brushing your navel, your breasts as he climbs onto the bed. Your hands relax, melting down his shoulders, tracing the rebellion relic. “Do you need to stop, or can I put my cock in you?” He asks gently, with a firm kiss to your lips.

“Cock,” you echo, still lost in the throes of your orgasm. You’ll be damned if you miss that chance to have him wholly. “Need your cock.”

“That’s my girl,” Garrick whispers, and you preen.

He guides you into a better position, a pillow beneath your hips. His hand is warm on your calf as he directs you to hook your legs around his taut waist. You peer down at his cock, red and leaking and you’re more than ready for him. You’re a mess for him.

Your breath catches in your chest as he guides his tip in. His words are soothing, gentle as he runs his cock through your slick for easier entry. “That’s it, just like that. It might hurt at first, but I promise I’ll take care of you.” He says, and how the fuck can you not melt for him with those pretty words?

Each inch he presses into you punches the air from your lungs. Your body tightens as you stretch around his girth. His cock is hot, branding your insides.

Garrick senses your discomfort and pauses. The halt makes you whine. “How are you doing?”

“Need you closer,” you admit, screwing your eyes shut. You lift your hands and Garrick carefully lowers himself, trying not to lose his head and fuck all the way into you until his hips meet yours. He’s so gentle, so caring, and your heart swells because of it.

He presses his forehead to yours, thumbing a soft pattern against your cheek. “Relax,” he coaxes softly. Your eyes pop open, meeting those lovely hazel ones. “I can stop anytime you want.”

“I don’t want you to stop,” you answer, slowly unlocking your limbs. You didn’t realize that you were digging your nails into the meat of his shoulders, and you carefully retract your claws. “I want you to keep going.”

It takes agonizing minutes until his pelvis rests against yours. Garrick’s reassuring praises helped keep you calm, even made you wetter for him with that wicked tongue of his. He distracted you with kisses and promises, lingering touches and admissions.

Gods, you feel so full. You didn’t think that you’d be able to take him all the way yet here you are with his cock fully sheathed inside of you. It feels right. He feels like home.

On your own time, you give a tentative roll of your hips. Garrick bites his lip to contain the moan that creeps up his throat, but you do nothing to hide yours. Yes, you get why sex is amazing, and you’re about to find out what sex with Garrick is like.

“If you keep squeezing my cock like that, I’m going to meet Malek sooner than intended,” Garrick pants, but fuck if he doesn’t love the way you’re squirming on his cock, drunk off of the sheer size of him.

“Move,” you gasp, fingers tightening on the back of his biceps. “I need you to move, Garrick.”

He heeds your direction like the good rider he is.

He starts out slow, letting you get used to his size. He kisses the furrow between your brow, rocking in and out until it disappears and you’re whimpering for him to move faster. You’re soaking his cock, which makes it all too easy to maneuver quicker, shifting his hips until you’re crying out and your nails are locked into his skin of his back again, raking down his spine.

He doesn’t even care if you leave red traces down his back. He’d rather be reminded of this moment than the scar that’s forever marred into his skin.

“Yes,” you hiss, arching into him. Garrick sucks a mark into the plush skin of your breast before sucking your nipple into his mouth. “Yes yes yes!” He’s ravaging you in every way, feels like he’s using his air wielding to steal the air from your lungs. You know that your lack of breath is simply just from being in his presence, his dashing good looks have always managed to take your breath away.

Garrick is attentive, tracing every part of your body he can reach. He draws a map in his mind, committing exactly what places and noises correspond. He would stay buried in you for fucking days if he could, but the harder you let him fuck into you has his gut coiling, that familiar heat buzzing down his spine.

He slides a hand between your bodies and finds your clit like he’s been fucking you for way longer than one night. You tug his head down in a desperate kiss, whimpering in pleasure into his mouth as his finger draws tight circles around your sensitive nub, chasing you toward that edge that still feels foreign yet so familiar at the same time.

“Come for me,” Garrick whispers, and you have no choice but to listen to your section leader.

You topple over the edge of oblivion. It’s similar to the feeling you experienced earlier, when you let yourself slip from Uisge’s back. A freefall, yet it’s so much more than that. It’s strong arms crashing down with you, a cock between your legs that’s hitting all the right spots. It’s soft words of encouragement from a man you’d never thought you’d get to see this much of. Hazel eyes that you’re falling into.

Garrick comes shortly after you, when he’s sure that you’ve experienced the best first orgasm of your life with him. There will be no one who will treat you like this, he’s vowed to ruin sex with any other man for you. But he’s ready to stick around if you are, as long as you don’t go jumping from your dragon with a death wish without letting him know first.

“That was…” you trail off in bliss. There’s a satisfied smile on your face, one that makes Garrick preen. Your eyes are shut and the lazy way you stroke his hair makes him fall harder, melt further into your body. “Thank you.”

“No,” he counters gently, brushing your hair from your face. It’s damp for an entirely different reason than the lake now, stuck to your skin with sweat. “Thank you,” he says, and leans down for one more intoxicating kiss.

[siobhanbooks]

it's the 1st October so it is officially threshing!!!

reminder that chapter 8 of like daylight does include an scene from Bodhi and Imogen's threshing if you want to go check that out

and under the cut is the scene itself

Threshing - October 1st:

“Okay, you can do this. There’s dragons that like rebellion relics, they can sense the magic in them, we think. They’ll want you. Just look for them and you’ll be okay.” Xaden said. Both of the younger friends nodded as they headed towards the valley that Threshing took place in.

“See you on the other side?” Imogen asked, as they moved to turn away.

“On the other side, Ims.” Bodhi smiled as they began to walk away from each other.

Not long after they’d separated, Bodhi heard a voice behind him, “Ah! The traitor of the year. Or at least the number one traitor. There’s seven of you, right? Seven little Tyrrish bitches running round trying to be riders. As if a dragon would bond with one of you.”

Bodhi turned around, and a few of the cadets from Third Wing had gathered. Each of them were armed. Bodhi was too but they outnumbered him 4 to 1. “You know, 8 marked cadets bonded last year. So…” he shrugged casually, making no big deal and beginning to walk away. Another cadet came up behind him from a different angle, swiping his leg with a blade they’d hidden.

“Not so bold now.” One of them tried to mock him. With blood pouring down his leg and a gaping wound, he swung around pulling the sword strapped to his back free.

He sliced in a diagonal motion, cutting open the arms of the two cadets in the middle. He swung again, sliced a line down the centre of another’s chest. “Who wants to have a go at me then? Because I stared down the back of a dragon throat when I was 16 and lived. Come on, don’t just stare at the Tyrrish traitor,” He taunted, laughing as the blood dripped from his sword. He looked insane but he didn’t really care.

They scurried off and once Bodhi could be sure he was alone, he dropped to his knee, “Fuck,” he whispered, slicing off the sleeve of his shirt, tying on his thigh using a stick as a tourniquet. Using one of his blades, he sawed off the ends until the stick was short enough to walk with attached to his leg.

After maybe half an hour, forty-five minutes later, the most beautiful dragon that Bodhi had ever seen landed in front of him. He’d grown up in Aretia, living in Riorson House, so he was used to seeing dragons from a distance. But to see one up this close was astonishing. All he wanted was to speak to the dragon but he knew that dragons never spoke to anyone but their riders.

”Hi.”

Bodhi looked around for the voice, but he was alone.

”I’m in front of you.”

Bodhi turned back around but in front of him was only the majestic green swordtail.

”Thank you! A majestic dragon for her royal rider."

“What?” Bodhi asked, out loud.

”I’m your dragon, Cuir. I’d tell you my full name but you’re bleeding a little too much for it.”

“I’m fine. I’m Bodhi Durran by the way.”

”I know that. Dragons know all about their riders.”

“Wow, I have a dragon. I’m a rider.”

”Now get on. It’s time to go back and get that leg checked out.”

“It’s fine. I’ve dealt with worse.”

”You shouldn’t have to.”

Bodhi climbed on his dragon’s - Cuir’s - back and settled in for the short flight out of the valley and over to the flight field. As she drew closer, he could see the brown of Garrick’s dragon, Chradh, and the navy of Xaden’s dragon, Sgaeyl. And now he had a dragon, a gorgeous green one who was far more beautiful than theirs. He tried to look but he was still too high to see Imogen’s distinctive pink hair. He wondered what dragon she would have bonded. Maybe an orange or a red. It definitely wouldn’t be a blue or brown. Imogen had always been fiercely independent and wouldn’t ever want to feel like she was copying Xaden or Garrick. Especially Garrick. So there was no way she bonded a scorpiontail either. Imogen was just like that. She always had to be better than the boys. Ever since they were little kids.

Cuir landed and Bodhi stumbled a little as he dismounted. The altitude combined with the blood loss from his leg wound made him a little off balance. ”Careful, Little One.”

”Little One?”

”You are shorter than your cousin. And you two are the royals of your province.”

Bodhi smiled as he headed over to give his dragon’s name to the roll keeper. After he headed over to the healer tent to get his leg sewn up. Imogen joined him, unable to keep the grin off her own face. “I bonded!”

“Of course you did!”

“Her name is Glane and she’s an oranger daggertail and I just love her.”

“Mine is called Cuir and she’s a green swordtail and so beautiful.” Imogen continued to talk about her and Quinn’s dragons as Bodhi’s leg was stitched by a healer cadet. “Ims-” He nudged her as Xaden and Garrick approached.

“You both bonded. I knew you would. Well done,” Xaden said, keeping his voice low as he spoke.

“Tell us about your dragons,” Garrick prompted, wrapping one arm around Imogen and messing up Bodhi’s curls with the other hand.

[scorpioriesling]

Could I request a fourth wing xaden x reader where she gets hurt on a mission and xaden just goes bat shit protecting her injured/dying body “nobody touches her” style?

Nobody Touches Whats Mine

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

Pairing(s): Xaden x reader

Warning(s): posessive Xaden, light description of injury

Summary: When you are hurt on a mission and Garrick is the one that brings you back to safely, your boyfriend doesn't take the gesture so kindly.

SR’s Note: Ooh we love a posessive, dark shadow daddy don't we? The girlies that get it, get it. Enjoy nonetheless! <3

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

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It throbbed. Throbbed.

"How much longer?"

Your question came out so breathless, you throught Garrick may not have heard you. Reguardless, he glances worriedly down at you.

"Ten minutes."

His response is short, and the way his grip around your waist tightens reconfirms his worry. You'd never been particularly close to your boyfriend's best friend, however he was the only one able and available to help you today when you got hurt.

Xaden would loose it when he saw you.

You knew it, Tairn knew it -- and you were sure Garrick knew it, too.

His hold tightened on you again as Chradh prepared for the final descent, and your muscles strained as the winged dragon dipped lower among the clouds. The drop in altitude made you see stars, and you began seeing black spots at the corner of your vision.

"Hold on!" Garrick shouted, despite holding you practically in his lap. "Just a few minutes, Y/N. Please Gods -- hold on."

You tried, really you did -- but the effort was nearly more than you could handle. Between the pain spreading from your lower leg up through your thigh, and the throbbing in your head -- you were tempted to let unconsciousness overtake you.

Surprise had your eyes winking open once more as the brown scorpiontail landed, the gesture much softer than you were used to with Tairn. Loathing gripped your gut as you realized he probably did it out of pity -- at you, your situation, your injuries.

Garrick quickly unstrapped from the harness behind you, making quick work of unhooking your security straps before sliding down his dragon's foreleg. He gripped you tight to his chest, and you seethed in pain at the movements. In minutes though, his feet hit the ground and you were repositioned once more; this time, lying limply in his arms.

You gazed half-lidded up at the afternoon sky, gray with the incoming storm. The light breeze brushed the wisps of loose hair across your forehead, but you were in too much pain to bother brushing them away.

The moment of peaceful bliss, however, dissipated as your boyfriend cleared the entrance of Riorson house.

"What in the Hell happened, Garrick!"

His usually calm tone was gone, replaced with what could only be described as pure fury. You craned your neck to search for him, you sight catching on his large approaching form.

"Xaden I did the best I could-"

You felt a niggling sense of guilt as you felt Garrick's heartbeat pick up speed. This was, truthfully your fault -- if you hadn't left to search the isle in the first place, this wouldn't have happened, and another cadet would not be being blamed for your injuries.

"You didn't try fucking hard enough," he roared, his voice now hovering over you. Your eyes met his, and your brows knit at the absence of his mask of cool calm.

Garrick quickly lifted you into Brennan's grasp -- you hadn't even registered his approach -- as he continued shouting with his best friend. Brennan stared sadly at you, turning to bring you inside and get to work.

"She needs attention on her leg, and probably her head-" Garrick called, and your brother only nodded. You peered around his arm, looking back at the grizzly scene you retreated from.

Xaden shoved Garrick, his rage more palpable by the second.

"You should have been the one paying attention to her to begin with!" He raged, and Garrick glared at him.

"I fucking was, Riorson! Why the fuck do you think we came back so quickly? I did everything I could-"

Xaden growled, grabbing his friend by the jacket collar and snarling in his face.

"You didn't do enough."

It was the last thing your brain could process before your eyes closed, your brain spiraling into unconsciousness.

✧･ﾟ: *

When your eyes opened once more, the sun had set and the light that filled the room came from overhead. You squinted, raising a hand to shield some of it from your vision. The room was quiet, smelled of saline, and seemed too bright for midnight — despite the moon hung high in the sky outside.

You made to sit up, wincing in pain as your leg muscles defied you. Glancing down, you took in the sight; your leg, bandaged around the knee with stitches peeking out from beneath it.

Great.

Recollections of what happened earlier begin coming back to you, all the way from arriving at the isle early in the morning to the wyvern battle to Garrick, unstrapping you from Tairn in an attempt to fly you back to safety.

Tairn.

You reach out mentally, your chest heaving as your breathing became shallow. He'd been conscious enough to fly himself back to Aretia -- at least, that's what he had communicated before Garrick had swept you away on Chradh's back.

You try again, unable to get any kind of response from him. Your train of thought is interrupted when the door slowly swings open, your favorite person appearing in the doorway.

Xaden.

"Xaden..." you whimper, your eyes filling with tears. He strides over to you, sitting on the edge of the bed and immediately wrapping his arms around you. Shadows brush lightly across your legs, tickling lightly as they made their way up to your arms. Breathing in his familiar minty scent, you relax a little, the world's problems fading ever so slightly.

He pulls back, gazing straight into your eyes when he speaks.

"Brennan said you'd be awake soon." You nod, and he pulls you into his chest once more. His strong arms hold you so close, and you have to practically pry yourself from his grip to look up at him again.

"Xaden... today, I-"

"I know," he interrupts, his gaze roving over you in an assessing manner. "Garrick filled me in."

His calm tone was so at odds with the way he absolutely lost his shit earlier, and you level him with a look.

"So, you know it wasn't all his fault, then." You state, and Xaden sighs.

"Yes -- don't worry, I apologized. We made up," he assures, but you only fold your arms over your chest.

"You really shouldn't have yelled at him like that, Xaden. Going on the mission today was a choice I made," you reiterate. "A choice I made, knowing full well that Wyvern would likely come for us."

His brows pinch, his eyes loosing their warmth. "Right -- a rediculous choice, at that. Why would you think going into unknown territory, unarmed, without me was a good-"

"Oh my Gods, Xaden," you sigh exasperatedly. "Just because you weren't there doesn't mean it would have gone differently if you were."

He huffs, his hand gently caressing your cheek.

"It might have." He says quietly. "I could've prevented... this, maybe." He gestures to your leg. "And if not, I could have been the one to carry you home."

His voice cracking on the last word sent a wave of fresh tears gathering in your waterline, but you grinned nonetheless.

"You didn't like that Garrick was touching me, did you."

It came out as more of a statement than a question. Xaden's dark eyes met yours again, and he leaned in to press a kiss to your lips.

"I never want anyone else touching what's mine. Whether it be a wyvern, a darkweilder, fellow rider or even my best friend. You are mine."

✧･ﾟ: *