Reader and Xaden have been together for years. Faithful for years, Violet comes along and does everything within her power to destroy their relationship and break them up because she feels like she’s entitled to X. When he finds out he looses his shit and well, can you figure out the rest?
Super angsty with a happy ending?
🥹
Please?! Your writings are amazing
Assumptions (Xaden Riorson x Reader)
(Credits to @cafekitsune for the dividers)
Summary: As time is taken away from them, doubt and paranoia worms its way in.
Content Warnings: Use of Y/N, first and third person POV, heavy mischaracterization of Violet Sorrengail, cursing, a high school student trying to write a relevant conversation about college work
Author's Note: To the person who requested this, I am so sorry this is late, but hopefully the length can make up for it. This has been sitting in my drafts for months and I finally got the motivation to finish it. Also, side note, I know I have taglists for series, but should I start a general one? Happy Reading!
(5.8k words)
“Go back to sleep,” a deep voice murmured softly.
Without having to open my eyes, I could tell that the room was dark — something I used to fear as a child but found comfort in now, because darkness meant shadows and shadows meant Xaden.
I could feel him shift in bed beside me, wrapping an arm around my body to pull me in closer.
The sounds of fabric shifting and the mattress slightly creaking broke the otherwise calm silence as I rested my head on his shoulder, placing a hand on Xaden’s sternum and feeling his chest rise and fall with every breath.
His skin was warm under mine as I let myself fall into his embrace, his presence — the only thing that was constant in my life.
He was always there — like an eternal vow of comfort and familiarity. No matter how far, or how distant he was, somehow he always managed to be there, no matter what.
“I can hear you thinking,” his voice was tinged with amusement despite the slight roughness of misuse.
“About you, if it makes you feel any better,” I replied, slowly giving up on the aspect of sleep for the next while.
“I’m flattered,” he said, his fingertips running up and down my spine soothingly.
He didn’t ask what I was thinking about him — years of conversations whispered under the stars on top of the turret back home dismissed any and all doubts. Although I wouldn’t hesitate telling him the truth anytime.
I pressed a kiss to his bare shoulder, then his collarbone, trailing up his neck until I reached his mouth.
I could feel his lips curling up into an uncontrollable smile and I couldn’t help but smiling myself.
“What was that about?” he asked when I pulled away. “Not that I don’t love that mouth of yours.”
“Just because,” I replied, sitting up to sit on top of him, one leg on each side of his middle. “You never know what might happen, just wanna say that I love you.”
His gaze was heavy with sleep but light with love and his hands planted on my hips, anchoring me on top of him.
“I’m sure nothing is going to happen in the middle of the night,” he grinned.
The view was breathtaking. As much as I preferred Xaden’s personality — his loyalty, his humor, his intelligence — but his looks, his smile especially, could melt my bones.
“You never know,” I teased, leaning down to kiss him again.
He hummed and flipped us over, planting a forearm beside my head to support his weight.
“Yeah?” He smiled, peppering kisses all over my face. “You know what I think?” His other hand moved to brush my hair away from my face. “I think you just like kissing me.”
I laughed. “Can you blame me? You have a very talented mouth.”
“Do I?” He laughed with me.
“Don’t act like you don’t know,” I lightly poked his chest.
“Maybe, but I love hearing you say it,” his lips turned up into that little cocky smirk that made my stomach flip every damn time.
“You’re lucky I love you,” I teased, wrapping my arms around his neck.
“Oh I know,” he replied, pressing a slow kiss to the side of my neck. “Luckiest man on the damned continent.”
My insides melted along with every rational thought in my brain as Xaden continued to kiss down my neck, but when he reached my collarbone I felt him freeze.
“Fuck,” I heard him murmur and he pushed himself up, getting out of bed and finding the nearest shirt.
“Xaden?” I sat up, watching him change the quickest I’ve seen him. “What’s going on?”
“Violet’s in trouble,” he said, not bothering to collect any of his blades strewn across the room as he cupped my cheek and pressed a kiss to my forehead. “I love you,” he murmured before exiting, the door shutting behind him before I could even reply.
Silence hung heavily in the room, as Xaden’s footsteps retreated down the hall.
I sat there, feeling shocked and empty at how quick things had changed in a matter of minutes.
As seconds ticked by silently, I debated with myself the probability of Xaden needing backup.
I inhaled, the sharp intake the loudest sound in the room. Fuck it.
Pulling back the covers, I got out of bed and reached for my boots.
Exhaustion wracked Violet’s body as Xaden walked her back to her room, not only physically after the sneak attack in her sleep but also mentally, after discovering that Andarna had given her a second signet.
As they rounded the corner, she could see the figures of two people.
She tensed for a second. Was it more first-years come to kill her?
Then she recognized their silhouettes and eased slightly — it was only Garrick and… Y/N.
They were murmuring slightly as she approached them, although conversation stopped as soon as they noticed her and Xaden.
“What are you doing here?” Xaden asked, his tone anything but accusatory, but rather soft and concerned.
“I got anxious,” Y/N replied. “You left in a hurry.”
He pulled her into his arms, kissing the top of her head. “You should be sleeping.”
“So should you,” she murmured, into his chest.
Violet’s stomach churned uncomfortably from watching the couple.
Her and Xaden’s lives were tied together, bound by a magic far more powerful and greater than any humankind had ever faced. It made more sense, in Violet’s heart and mind, that it should be them who were a couple.
Garrick strode back into Violet’s room and came out a couple moments later, helping Bodhi carry out the last body.
The corpse had a red ring around its neck from Xaden’s shadows suffocating the life out of it only half an hour before.
Xaden’s body shifted almost instinctively, shielding the girl in his arms from the sight — even though Violet knew that Y/N had definitely seen a dead body before.
Jealousy bubbled up in Violet’s gut, creating a lump in her throat and a bitter taste in her mouth.
It should be her who he was protecting, not Y/N. It wasn’t Y/N’s life who was tied to his. It was hers.
“Thank you,” she said to Garrick and Bodhi as they passed by.
“We should get going,” Xaden murmured to Y/N, although it was loud enough for Violet to hear. “You have that seminar tomorrow.”
Being the academic-overachiever that she was, Violet’s ears perked up. “What seminar?”
“It’s for signets specific to a form of bio-manipulation,” Y/N explained, so soft and patient Violet almost couldn’t believe that it was her who Xaden had chosen to be with when he needed someone equal to him — someone just as ruthless and cunning as he was.
“You could always swing by,” Y/N was saying. “Although you haven’t manifested yet, you never know.”
Violet offered the biggest smile she could muster, which wasn’t much. “Maybe, we’ll see.”
“Alright then,” Y/N offered a small smile in return. “Goodnight.”
She and Xaden linked hands and walked together down the hall back to the third-year dormitories.
Midstep Xaden reached down, hooked his forearm under her knees and scooped her up, carrying her bridal style with one arm with ease that said that he had done it multiple times before and tender care that said that he’d do it over and over and over again.
Y/N didn’t even say anything, just held onto his neck and leaned her head against his shoulder. All of her muscles relaxed as if it was in Xaden’s arms where she could truly and completely rest.
After they rounded the corner, Violet finally entered her room — silent and empty as it was when she’d last entered it but also had a lingering aura of settled chaos in the air.
Xaden had entered her room, and Violet would ensure that it wouldn’t be the last time.
“No matter what kind of magic you have,” I said to the group of fifteen cadets, “whether it be water, fire, storm or earth wielding, it all comes from the same place: nature.”
After the execution of Amber Mavis, Third Wing had been in disarray, trying to find an executive officer to replace the former who had risen to the title of wingleader. There had been several meetings with the section leaders, including myself to find someone suitable for the job.
“Our signets,” I continued, “are different from others. Pure magic comes from nature, it is manifested from the land and sky. We cannot bend or command it, but simply ask, guide and coax. It is unpredictable, reckless and mischievous when it wants to be, so we must balance it out with patience.”
I had taken the group to the forested valley where Threshing took place months ago. The sound of the babbling brook nearby and the wind softly caressing the leaves of the trees was peaceful and a completely different atmosphere from the constant loudness that was Basgiath.
“Water is the most temperamental, fire is the most uncontrollable, plants are the most playful,” I said. “The first thing is to connect with your element — reach out, familiarize with the feeling of it.”
Most of the cadets closed their eyes, their arms hanging by their sides like they were reaching out to the earth, some their bodies instinctively turning towards the nearby brook.
Some of them had a slight smile on their faces while the others had their brows scrunched in concentration.
“Extend a hand towards it mentally,” I said, “slowly. Otherwise—”
Suddenly, a nearby tree burst into flame, the fire licking up towards the sky as smoke began to fill the air.
“—That could happen,” I finished, reaching and splashing water from the stream to extinguish it.
One of the cadets flushed pink. “Sorry,” they said.
“You’re good,” I replied, smiling softly so that he wouldn’t feel bad. “Most of this is trial and error.”
I heard the slight rustle of leaves and my senses went on alert.
My shoulders slackened when a familiar figure stepped through the foliage.
“Wingleader Riorson.”
He gave me a smile as the other cadets turned around. They all did a double take — it wasn’t everyday for them to see the fearsome Wingleader smile so freely.
“Section Leader L/N,” he replied. The cadets quickly moved out of his way as he walked towards me, wrapping an arm around my waist to pull me close.
I swear to Amari, no matter how many times he did that, it always gave me butterflies to be close to him.
“What are you doing here?” I asked, the leather of his flight jacket warm beneath my palm as I placed them on his chest.
“Leadership’s been looking for you,” he said, placing a kiss on my forehead.
I almost told him not to do this in front of the cadets, but I knew he wouldn’t care and honestly, after feeling his warmth, I didn’t either.
“I also wanted to have another excuse to see you again,” Xaden added in a quieter tone, like it was a secret just between him and me.
“Aren’t I seeing you in an hour for sparring?” I tilted my head to the side.
“Also why I stopped by,” he murmured, “I have to train Violet tonight.”
I couldn’t hide my disappointment, it had been a while since we had sparred together — but I couldn’t blame him either, I knew what was riding on Violet’s survival at Basgiath and I couldn’t be selfish enough to ask Xaden to risk that for me.
“Alright,” I sighed, trying not to let my dismay leak into my voice.
He had enough on his shoulders without adding my worries on top of them.
“C’mon,” Xaden said, pulling away slightly to lead me out of the clearing. “I have a feeling I know exactly what Leadership wants from you.”
I shut the door behind me and rested my head against the wood — my heart was beating out of my chest from happiness, pride and anxiousness.
I played the moment over and over again in my head.
The large looming table, General Sorrengail in all her imperialness at the head, leadership from Third Wing sitting in their seats, Wingleaders from First, Second, Third and Fourth Wing looking at me with a mix of expectancy and satisfaction, Xaden kissing me afterward — telling me that he was so proud and that he loved me.
Gods, all of it made my head spin.
“So?”
I snapped out of my thoughts and saw Imogen, Garrick, Bodhi and Liam all huddled in my room, apparently waiting for my return.
I pursed my lips to keep from smiling, but it did no good.
“Guess who’s the new Executive Officer of Third Wing!” I squealed and I was met with the loudest and fullest celebration I’ve ever received from four people alone.
Bodhi charged at me, sweeping me off my feet in a hug as the rest cheered so loud I was pretty sure I was going to get noise complaints.
I laughed and cheered with them as Bodes set me down and Liam approached to hug me next.
“I knew you’d get it,” he smiled, wrapping his arms around my shoulders.
“Thanks M,” I said, squeezing him tight before I felt a pair of shoulders under my thighs and I was being lifted into the air.
“Let’s go, motherfuckers!” Garrick shouted from below me as he lifted me on his shoulders.
I laughed uncontrollably as I tried to find my purchase.
“C’mon Garrick you’re hogging her,” Imogen said over the noise and Garrick obligingly lowered me to the ground.
“Never doubted you,” she said, hugging me tightly as soon as I was on my own two feet.
“Thanks, Gen,” I said, hugging her back tightly.
Although I knew that Xaden wouldn't be here — I still felt his absence like a void in the room.
It felt strange to be celebrating with all of our friends without him.
And apparently, my face gave away more than I hoped it had because Garrick placed a warm hand on my shoulder.
“He'll be back soon,” he reassured. “They're only going over the basics today.”
I didn't have the heart to tell Garrick that despite his kind words, Xaden’s absence was still a small weight on my chest. So I smiled the best I could and told him thanks.
Celebration eventually turned into the buzz of conversation as we all waited for dinnertime and I couldn't help but think that maybe Xaden training Violet would affect me more than I thought it would.
My head was pounding as I stared at the paragraph I had written and re-written for the past thirty minutes.
I had been working on my physics thesis for the past three hours and I was nowhere near finishing.
I tossed my pen in the inkwell a bit harsher than necessary before leaning back in my chair, groaning at the ceiling.
The sound of the door opening barely registered to me until I felt the soft press of a kiss to my hairline.
“Hi love,” I said as I turned in my chair.
“Physics still biting your ass?” he chuckled, unstrapping his shortswords from his back.
“Yes,” I said, massaging my temples, “I swear if I have to quote another theorem, I am going to combust.”
I felt an arm settle on my shoulder, and I looked up to see Xaden staring down at my paper, his eyes flitting left to right.
“Oh I remember this,” he murmured. “This thesis kicked my ass.”
That was saying a lot, considering just how smart I knew Xaden to be.
“Could you help me?” I asked, “I’m using a Tyrrish flight formation as an example but I cannot for the life of me remember the specifics.”
“Of course, love,” he said, pressing a chaste kiss to my cheek. “I just need to take care of a couple of things this week and I’m all yours.”
“I like that sound of that,” I grinned, facing towards him.
“Do you?” The smirk that he gave me made me forget all about my paper.
I leaned in and kissed him, soft and slow and hypnotizing. I felt everything all at once, his warmth, his weight and his absence when he pulled away.
“If I stay any longer, I don’t think I’m ever going to leave,” he said quietly, like it was a secret between the two of us.
He pulled away slowly, as if he were weighing the pros and cons in his head about staying. But in the end, he did walk towards the door. “I love you,” he said over his shoulder.
I made sure to echo the sentiment before the door slid shut with a soft click.
It was late into the night. The entire campus was quiet, except for the occasional gust of wind from my window which I kept open.
Everyone had cleared out from the night, leaving the room with the echoes of celebration and the deafening silence of Xaden’s absence.
I had been tossing and turning for the past hour, unused to sleeping alone.
Staring out into the open darkness, I could almost feel the weight of Xaden’s arm around my waist, the sensation of his hand resting on my ribcage so he could feel every inhale and exhale I made.
The complete and utter quiet of the room made the sound of the door handle turning louder than it should have been as I saw the crack of light from the open doorway bleed across the floor from my position on my side with my back to the door.
I quickly shut my eyes and slowed my breathing, pretending to be asleep.
The door slowly closed again before shutting with a soft click.
From the sounds of quiet shuffling, laces becoming undone before the thud of soles landing by the doorway, I could tell it was Xaden who had come back from his training with Violet.
The soft hiss of fabric sliding across skin was unmistakable as moments later, the covers on the opposite side of the bed was pulled back and the mattress dipped.
An arm wrapped around my waist from behind and pulled me against a bare chest. There was a rush of warm air at the base of my neck as Xaden sighed deeply, either tired, satisfied or maybe both.
I didn’t say anything, didn’t mention how much I missed his presence or how much I wanted him to just let Liam or Bodhi to train Violet. I just placed my hand on top of his and relaxed.
It wasn’t long before I started to drift off to sleep.
Weeks passed by faster and yet slower than usual.
The days blended together in routine until every moment felt predictable and monotone.
I woke up to find the bed cold every morning, the indent of where Xaden’s body had once been found in the creases of the sheets and every time I opened the door at the end of the day, I always hoped to find him sitting at the desk or throwing daggers at the target he got last winter, but the room was always dark, always cold, always empty.
I felt his absence constantly, the weight of his gaze when I got ready, the kiss we shared after lunch before we parted ways for the rest of the day, reading together in the evening before sleeping — it was all gone with a simple decision, a singular choice to sacrifice time for the greater good.
I could feel it in how my appetite would disappear days on end, my fork pushing my food around on my plate while the chatter of the hall was reduced to buzzing around me.
I ran my tongue over my teeth, trying to muster the incentive to eat, but my stomach turned just thinking about it.
I could see the concerned looks the rest of the group gave me, then at the empty seat beside me, then the empty seat of a first year table a couple back.
I could almost hear Xaden’s voice in my mind. He would take an apple from his plate, skin it, slice it and offer me the smallest piece first.
“Eat,” he’d say and I’d take the slice, because I’d try for him even if sometimes my body would reject it later.
My eyes went to the apple that I had cut on my plate — none of the slices seemed manageable right now.
I pushed the plate away and stood up wordlessly, going to get a glass of water.
I passed by the first year table, a noticeable seat empty beside one of the cadets.
“Where’s Violet?” One of the first years said as I walked past.
“Training with Riorson,” another replied.
“Sure. ‘Training’.” the first year replied. “They’re just making out in the gym and no one is going to stop them because it’s Xaden fucking Riorson.”
It shouldn’t have affected me the way it did, yet my steps hesitated as I retrieved my glass of water, my hands shaking just the slightest bit as I tipped the pitcher.
“Doesn’t he have a girlfriend?”
“Apparently, they’re on shaky terms — Violet brought her up once and all of her questions were answered with one word.”
I picked up the cup, the weight of it heavier than normal in my hands and started walking back to the table.
“So is he bored of her or something?”
“Violet told me last night, she and Riorson were apparently training late and he ended up on top of her, she swears he looked at her lips. Just imagine the tension.”
I diverted my path, placing the glass down on the first year’s table before heading towards the door.
I could hear someone mumble “oh shit” behind me as I walked briskly out of the dining hall.
I didn't know where I was going, just focused on the sound of my boot steps echoing as the chattering of the dining hall faded away at my back.
The sun was beginning to set, the golden rays warming my skin and then shadow cooling it as I passed by windows in the hall.
Sound was irrelevant, my surroundings past five feet of me were irrelevant, not when my stomach was churning from how fast my mind was racing.
Is he bored of her?
They’re on shaky terms.
It wasn’t that people knew details about our relationship, it was that the details were true. We were on shaky grounds, he was training with Violet last night.
So if those rumors were true, what about everything else?
Guilt and anxiety and fear swirled in my gut, my hands starting to shake uncontrollably.
I leaned against the nearest wall, trying to breathe and gather myself.
Since entering Basgiath, I couldn’t remember the last time I had felt this weak, this vulnerable. I clenched my hands into fists, trying to stop the shaking.
I stayed there until I felt like I wasn’t going to retch and my legs weren’t going to give out under me.
Senses came back to me in fragments — the ground beneath my feet, solid and real, the stone wall underneath my fingertips, rough and textured, the sound of grunts and blows landing nearby.
When my head finally cleared, I recognized where I was.
The entrance to the sparring gym was beside me, the sounds of combat traversing through the open doorway.
I walked over and leaned against the threshold, surveying the room.
Most of Violet’s squad was there for the evening, the gym borrowed by their section leader.
Most were working on basics, manoeuvers with different weapons than just a sword, ways to get out of a headlock, simple.
Then one by one their attention was drawn to a spar taking place in the middle of the gym, where my own attention had gone as soon as I saw it.
Xaden and Garrick were caught in the middle of combat. Their shirts were discarded somewhere, exposing every upper body muscle flexing and rippling as they exchanged punches, kicks and blows.
It was hypnotizing — no hesitation, only brutal and ruthless focus.
Eventually a good chunk of men and women had stopped their spar to stare at the pair, their jaws dropped and their gaze tinted with more than just admiration and awe.
Usually I wouldn’t mind, a hint of pride blooming in my chest at the fact that I knew how it felt to have those muscles flex under my touch, to have that unwavering focus on me while others could only daydream.
But as I looked around the room and saw Violet was part of the oglers, a pang of hurt, but one that I expected in a way shot through me.
I backed away before anyone could notice me at the door and could spread more rumors that had already circulated.
The thing about being with Xaden was that while people were physically attracted to him, his reputation scared anyone off willing to dare — but Violet? Violet would dare. And while I had unwavering faith that Xaden wouldn’t make any advances on her, I was scared that his heart would move on to her.
I remembered when his presence felt like a guarantee, a promise, a home that I could always go back to. Now it felt more like a miracle than anything else, a dream, a wish.
Fuck I missed him. I missed waking up to him kissing me awake, his soft smile when I would run my fingers through his hair, the wicked little smirk when I would best him in a sparring match. I missed having him as my lover, my best friend, my confidant.
My heart squeezed in my chest and I felt it through my whole body, leaving me to wonder when or even if it was going to stop.
Xaden was tired, so fucking tired.
“Again,” he said, dropping Violet’s fist from where he had caught it.
“I’m never going to get it,” Violet complained, the words sounding whiny in his ears as her shoulders slouched in defeat.
He was tempted to agree, to call the training off and go back to his room, back to her — back to arms that felt like sanctuary, back to the laugh that Xaden would willingly drown in.
“You are,” he said, his voice sounding more unconvincing the more he said it. “You just have to practice. Again.”
Violet begrudgingly took her offensive stance again, raising her fist loosely before aiming a punch at his shoulder.
He caught it immediately, frustration bubbling up to the surface. “Are you even trying, Violet?”
Violet frowned, obvious hurt flashing in her eyes. “Of course I am.”
“You’re not,” Xaden inclined. “This is the fourth time I’ve told you this, your power comes from your hips, you have to rotate them to get your force.”
“Could you show me again?” Violet asked. “Guide me through the movement?”
He had to mentally stop himself from punching the nearest object, taking a second to collect himself before he did something he would regret.
“You know the movement,” he said slowly, enunciating every syllable. “You think I don’t know you’re stalling?”
“I’m n—”
“My agreement with your mother specified that I would try to help you survive here at Basgiath, not succeed,” Xaden interjected, the darkness outside of the windows becoming all the more reminder of how late it was getting. “If you don’t start learning the things I’m teaching you, I can’t prevent you from getting your neck snapped on the mat in a week, which, trust me, is going to be inconvenient for the both of us.”
Violet’s face lit up. “You think my life is valuable?”
Xaden understood what she was fishing for, he understood what she was trying to accomplish, which only served to frustrate him more.
“Your death will be something your mother will lord over my head for the rest of my life, which is something I do not look forward to,” he dropped her fist. “Again.”
Violet took a step back, shaking out her hand before muttering. “This is not what I planned would happen tonight.”
“And what exactly did you have planned for tonight?” Xaden sighed.
“A different type of rigorous activity,” Violet shot back. “I mean with all of the signs—”
“What. Signs.”
“I don’t understand why you can’t see it,” Violet crossed her arms, seeming frustrated for his being… what? Uncooperative? “I mean when I explained it to Rhi, she seemed to see the tension just fine—”
Xaden pinched the bridge of his nose. “What have you been saying about us, Violet?”
“That we have something, that we belonged together, I mean when Rhi told Ridoc, he thought that we had something too. I mean basically everyone thinks that we make out when we’re training.”
Xaden paused, his intuition telling him that something about the sentence was wrong. “Define ‘everyone’.”
“I don’t know, Xaden,” she said, exasperated beyond anything else, “maybe some other squads but nothing too— Hey!”
Before she even finished the sentence, Xaden was striding out of the room, one clear intent in mind.
If Violet had implied that she and him had been… involved — oh gods, what if Y/N had heard?
Concern and alarm rattled in his mind as he made his way to the dormitories. If she had heard the rumors, it would fucking eat at her.
And damn him if he let her spiral on her own.
“What the fuck are you doing out here?”
He didn’t need to shout, the wind carried his voice well enough.
I dangled my feet, the valley below seeming bottomless in the night. I knew he’d find me eventually, and there wasn’t another way I could think of to earn an opportunity to talk.
“You weren’t there when I went back to our room and when I asked Garrick, he told me that the last time he saw you was at dinner and that you didn’t eat at all. Are you trying to give me a heart attack?”
By the time I had stood up, Xaden had caught up to me on the Parapet.
The wind swept through his hair as it no doubt did to mine, sweeping through the stands and brushing against his forehead.
I had to catch myself on the instinct to brush it back.
“So you do go to our room,” I replied, trying to mask every single emotion battering in my mind that I have been contemplating in my mind for the past hour.
“What?” His eyes were wild — frustrated, concerned, scared.
“I almost thought you didn’t, considering that you never seem to inhabit it anymore.”
His eyes softened, his hands reaching out for me. “Y/N, please, can we just talk when we’re both on solid ground—”
“No,” I interjected. “If we get off the Parapet, you’re probably going to walk away from me again and I can’t take that chance. I need you here, now, so we’re not getting off the walkway of doom until you’ll listen to me.”
His hands stopped before they could touch me. He looked tired and a part of me felt guilty for being difficult, but I couldn’t afford to have him disappear again.
“Love, I’d never walk away from you,” Xaden said softly and I believed him, I really did.
“But you’re not walking towards me either,” I countered and my voice cracked as I wrestled with my emotions, to keep them down.
I thought I could do it without breaking, I somehow thought I could look him in the eyes and tell him everything I had been thinking, but it made it ten-times harder when I looked and saw my own devastation reflected back at me.
“Whenever I want you there, or I need you there, it’s always Garrick or Liam instead when it feels wrong without you. I know it sounds petty and selfish, but I haven’t been alone with you in weeks. I miss you so fucking much it hurts, Xaden. It hurts that you’ve been away for so long that I don’t expect to see you at dinner anymore. It hurts that I can’t tell you every little thing I saw that day that reminded me of you.”
He didn’t say a word, but somehow that made it worse. He just reached out and gently brushed his fingers against mine, I didn’t stop him but I didn’t react either when he took my hand in his.
“We don’t feel like a priority anymore, Xaden.”
He sucked in a breath, the only indication that my words had struck him.
“You will never not be a priority to me,” his voice was unwavering, solid and real and I had missed it so much. “Fuck, Y/N you’re everything. It’s just that Violet is taking forever to train and keeping her alive is like trying to get a bird to not fly into a window. I wake up every damned morning and it takes all of my control to not stay with you until you wake up and it hurts me when I come back and you’re already asleep because I didn’t get to see you smile or laugh that day. I’m so fucking sorry.”
“I know,” I said and I squeezed his hand. “And I accept your apology.”
His shoulders sagged a bit at that and relief seemed to wash over him, he squeezed my hand back and took a step closer.
The breeze carried his smell, one that I more recently would bury my face in his side of the bed to catch before I started the day. It smelled like comfort and home, something I could melt into when life pressed in too hard at the edges.
“I missed you,” I confessed, the words almost too simple and yet carrying all of the weight that had stayed with me.
“I missed you too,” he murmured, lifting our joined hands to press a kiss to the inside of my wrist, then my knuckles. “Every damned second.”
I let myself breathe, inhale and exhale as I felt relief wash away my own paranoia.
He leaned in, ever so slowly — a question to which I answered without hesitation.
My heart almost gave out when my lips met his for the first time in months. The touch was like coming home, soft and sweet and oh so right.
Wind picked up against us as Xaden wrapped his other arm around my waist, tilting his head to deepen the kiss which only resulted in making my head dizzy and my heart light as the only sound heard for miles was the sound of a dragon roaring in the distance, celebrating being done with the angst-ridden thoughts of its rider.
Summary: A healer who heals a scar that will define Xaden Riorson in the future, who will become a healer who would heal his heart.
Content Warnings: Use of Y/N, third person POV
Author's Note: Fun fact, this was actually my first attempt at Strength but I kept this in my drafts for a while. I came across it recently and thought that maybe someone would like it, so here it is! Technically it could be read as a prequel to Strength, but it could also be a stand-alone. Just a fluffy little meet-cute. Happy Reading!
(1k words)
They were never meant to meet.
It was pretty ironic, actually — a rider and a healer. They met in their first years, right after Threshing.
The Healers Quadrant had been sent riders over the past few weeks, with cuts deep enough that they needed suturing.
Y/N was top of her class, being assigned to the hardest wounds to heal.
She’d executed every assignment perfectly, making sure that every suture was tight and precise, dealing with the stubborn riders who refused help with expert patience.
Xaden Riorson was sitting on the far side of the infirmary, pressing a cloth that he was given to the cut on his brow. Thanks a lot, Sgaeyl.
He tracked the movements of a girl holding a tray full of gauze, bandages, needles, antiseptic and thread.
“Hi, I’m Y/N and I’ll be helping you today,” she said warmly, pulling out a clipboard from under her tray before she set it down on the bedside table. The bottles made a soft clink sound as she set it down. “Can I have your name for the records?”
“Xaden Riorson,” he replied, analysing her expression as he answered her question.
But she didn’t flinch, didn’t so much as react as she scribbled down his name on her clipboard before setting it down.
Her methodical fingers reached for a bottle full of clear liquid and a piece of gauze, pouring a bit onto the cotton.
She turned to face him. “Can I see?” She asked.
He peeled the cloth from his face and she gently took it from his hand and put it on her tray.
Her gaze was clinical and attentive as she studied the wound. Her hands rose but paused before touching his skin, like she was asking for permission.
When he gave no protest, she gently traced the skin beside the cut, pulling it back slightly and whispering “Sorry” even though he didn’t wince.
“It clotted well and it missed your eye, which is good,” she murmured, almost to herself, although he was close enough to hear.
She lifted the gauze. “It’s just water,” she reassured before pressing it slowly on his wound.
It stung a bit, but the water was lukewarm so he could manage it fine.
“You don’t talk a lot, do you?” She commented, not condescending, just observant.
Was it a trait of the healers? To be this observant?
“What do you want me to say?” He asked, his gaze sweeping over her features. Her chin, cheekbones, nose, eyes… mouth.
“You don’t have to say anything,” she replied, pulling the gauze from his wound. “It’s just that most riders would’ve cursed at me by now. Y’know, ‘I can heal myself’ or ‘I can do it myself’. No you can’t, that’s why you’re here.”
She started rambling, placing the now red-stained gauze on the tray and picking up the needle and thread.
“The most painful part is coming, do you want anything for it? Alcohol? Something to bite down on?” She asked after she successfully threaded the needle.
He usually didn’t, he’d just grit his teeth and push through the pain. But Xaden found himself thinking that if he wanted to be comforted by anyone at this war college, he’d want it to be her.
“Tell me something about you,” he said.
Her expression softened at his request, turning thoughtful before she asked, “Can you close your eyes?”
He complied, which surprised even him.
“My grandfather was a healer,” she began and Xaden felt a sharp sting at the top of his cheekbone. “He taught me the basics — teas ideal for flu patients, how to bandage a wound, how to identify broken bones.”
There was an alien tugging sensation in his skin and he inhaled sharply.
“Sorry,” she said automatically, pausing in her movements.
“No, it’s fine,” he said, rubbing his palms on his thighs. “Keep talking.”
A heartbeat passed before her voice filled his ears again. “That’s where I started, but I think I’ve always wanted to help others in a sense.”
Another sting, another tug, the snip of scissors, repeat.
“I’m not exactly strong enough to study in the Infantry or Rider’s Quadrant, so… here I am.” Her voice was soft and consistent, and it made Xaden forget all of his worries for a split second. “I’m proud of the work I’ve done here. I’m actually doing something, y’know? It might be a blip in the grand scheme of things… but it’s not nothing.”
The passion with which she spoke… Xaden could tell that she was telling the truth, something no one really did with him, let alone a stranger.
“No, it’s not nothing,” he murmured.
There was a tug at his brow, she must almost be done.
There was another pause, and then a scoff. “I was gonna ask you why you joined the Rider’s Quadrant. Gods, I’m so stupid… and sorry.”
“I’ve learned to live with it,” he replied, opening his eyes once he heard the final snip of the thread being cut. “And you should stop apologising for things that are out of your control.”
She lowered her hands from his face, putting the needle and thread on the tray before turning back to him.
“You must have learned to live with a lot of stuff,” she murmured.
“I got used to it,” Xaden said. “You just have to learn how to turn a shitty situation into an opportunity."
“Sounds like you’ve done it a lot,” she muttered.
“Sounds like you need to do it more often,” he countered.
She smiled softly, as if considering his words. She reached for another piece of clean cloth and doused it in water before dabbing gently at the sutured cut. “Keep the cut dry for the next day, wash it with warm water and soap after and don’t touch it. Come back if it gets infected or in five days to get the stitches removed.”
Xaden nodded slightly, standing up from the hospital bed. “Thank you, Y/N.”
“It was nothing,” she said, collecting all of her materials before lifting the tray. “I’ll see you later, yeah?”
To his surprise, Xaden found himself looking forward to the next time he’d see her, to be under her focus and to hear her soft words.
“Yeah, I’ll see you.”
For the first time, Xaden Riorson found himself yearning for a soft kind of love.
Past of the Romantics Pt. 2 (Xaden Riorson x Reader)
(Credits to @strangergraphics for the dividers)
Past of the Romantics: Part 1, Part 2
Summary: When past and present start blending together, past emotions become all the more present.
Content Warnings: Use of Y/N, lines are BLURRED, third person POV
Author's Note: I am so sorry this is so late. So many people asked for a part two so here it is!! I am currently working on a part 0.5 but I'm slow as FRICK so please be patient. Please mind the made up word at the end, that's a little something for the prequel. If y'all want to be added to the series taglist, please comment and I'll add you! Happy Reading!
(2.2k words)
To say that the walk from the rooms down to the dining hall was tense was an understatement.
Having riders and fliers in the same room was probably a very, very bad pass of judgment.
Walking beside Catriona all resplendent in her red dress and fancy updo, Violet felt duller somehow, less confident about her outfit decision.
Maybe she should have chosen the green dress, maybe Xaden was sick of all of the black, maybe Violet had lost tonight and—
“Hey,” a voice came from beside her, touching her arm gently.
Violet looked over to see Y/N, stunning in her dress of lilac. Her hair was styled to look wild and free with butterflies decorating the strands as well as her skirts and corset.
“Don’t pay any mind to Cat,” Y/N said to her, her voice low. “Xaden will take one look at you and go feral, I’m sure,” she winked. “I see it was a good choice to send Zara your way.”
By that, Violet was confused and it must have shown on her face because Y/N said, “Zara usually tends to me on dinners like this. But I thought tonight her talents could be applied elsewhere. She did wonderfully. You look gorgeous, Violet.”
By her words, Violet found herself more at ease and was relieved to know that Y/N’s beautiful appearance matched her soul, unlike Catriona.
“You’re too kind,” Violet said. “This may seem rude, but how are you siblings with Catriona?”
“Oh I’m not,” Y/N jumped to say. “Can you imagine if I was?” she chuckled. “No, I’m Tecarus’ niece on the other side, so I’m her cousin.”
Violet nodded. That made a lot more sense.
They reached a set of ornate double doors, guards stationed at each side, Y/N nodded to them and the set of doors opened. While she was not heir to the throne, she was obviously more in charge of the house than anyone there.
As they passed through, Violet noticed that Y/N made a quick, wordless gesture towards the guards, “thank you” in sign.
By their way of dress, Violet had assumed that the dinner would be extravagant, but not to this level.
The dining hall was ornate, with crystal chandeliers that refracted light onto the dining table as well as the paintings and mirrors lining the wall, illuminating the space with warm light.
The back wall was made entirely of glass and beyond was a terrace overlooking the Article Ocean. The doors to the terrace were wide open, letting the cool sea breeze enter the room.
All of the seats at the table were filled except for five, all generally close to the head of the table, where Tecaurus was waiting impatiently.
The people sitting at the dining table were all staring at the group as they walked in, were dressed in finery, the men in brocade jackets and the women with their pearl necklaces and delicate updo’s.
Xaden and Brennen were the easiest to spot at the table as they were the only ones wearing black out of the fifty nobles.
“You’re late,” Tecaurs said, his tone a mix of annoyance and exasperation.
“Apologies Uncle,” Y/N said as she stepped into the room. “Catriona was taking too long in the bath.”
Cat’s mouth dropped open in shock and she scoffed. “Well forgive me for wanting to look presentable for our guests.”
“Yes, perhaps one guest in particular,” Y/N teased over her shoulder.
They took their seats, Violet next to Brennen and Mira while Y/N got seated next to Xaden and a middle-aged noblewoman on the other side of the table.
As the first course was served, the guests started chattering amongst themselves, some in the common language, but others in poromish languages that Violet couldn’t even begin to piece together.
Y/N was talking to the noblewoman in one of those languages, it sounded smooth and flowery, like something leaves might speak deep in the woods.
Then, the noblewoman looked past Y/N and to Xaden, seeming to ask him a question.
And to Violet’s surprise, Xaden smiled (smiled) consideringly and spoke an answer back in the same language. It was a bit more blocky than Y/N’s or the noblewoman’s fluency, but it still left Violet in shock that he knew how to speak a language not spoken in Navarre.
Y/N gasped in surprise as well, but it was more so joyful. “You remembered?” she asked, smiling wide.
“Of course,” Xaden replied. “Your lessons were unforgettable.”
To that, Y/N’s cheeks heated and she looked away, that phrase seeming to mean a lot more than just language studies in a library.
The noblewoman’s eyebrows rose, seeming to have caught on before smiling mischievously. “And what, pray tell, Mr. Riorson did those lessons entail?” She had switched to the common language having realised that Xaden was more comfortable speaking it.
“Lots of inciting rewards, Lady Anca,” Xaden said, his voice dipping low before taking a sip of his drink.
Y/N buried her face in her hands in devastation, yet her shoulders shook from laughter.
Xaden only chuckled over the rim of his glass which only made Y/N laugh harder, lifting her face from her hands to take a drink.
“I always knew there was something going on between you,” Lady Anca said.
“And here I thought we were being discreet,” Y/N chuckled.
“Oh dear, it was nothing of the sort. Anyone could see the way Mr. Riorson would look at you.”
“Thanks a lot Xaden, we got exposed because of your moony eyes,” Y/N teased.
“Is it such a crime that I thought that you were the most beautiful thing to look at during the dinners?” Xaden teased back, which only made Y/N blush more than she already was.
“In my opinion,” Xaden continued, his eyes solely focused on Y/N now, “you were the most breathtaking piece of art in a room full of expensive paintings. Still are, actually.”
“And what happened to being discreet, Mr. Riorson?” Y/N asked.
“Last time I checked, Lady Y/N, Catriona and I aren’t engaged and perhaps seeing you again reminded me why I was against being so discreet in the first place.”
Y/N rolled her eyes, although her smile was definitely more on the flustered side.
Before she could reply, however, there was the sound of metal clinking against glass at the head of the table.
The guests all quieted and turned their attention to Viscount Tecarus who was standing from his seat.
“Thank you all for attending tonight, especially our companions from across the border. Now my darling nightingale, would you like to present a toast?”
Y/N rolled her eyes at the nickname but stood up anyway.
She raised her glass filled with amber liquid. “To our esteemed friends from Navarre, for gracing us with their presence and for reminding us why fliers and riders should never be in the same room together.”
The rest of the room chuckled softly before raising their glasses in tandem. “To the riders!”
Out of politeness, Brennan, Mira, Violet and Xaden took a sip from their glasses, although something had unsettled Violet when she was called a friend in what seemed to be enemy territory.
The chatter resumed as the second course was served and the first was cleared.
Y/N was telling a story adamantly to Xaden, his eyes solely on her. The corners of his mouth turned up slightly as if even in the midst of a colourful reenactment of some ludicrous story, she was still the most stunning thing in the entire room.
“Hey Xaden,” Catriona, who had been watching them interact almost as closely as Violet. “Do you remember that one night when Y/N got a little too tipsy and accidentally fell into one of the springs?”
Y/N rolled her eyes, albeit amused. “For once, Kitty Cat, that was one time.”
The night had turned from chattering and charmed to the kind of tranquil that left silence for the crickets to sing.
Xaden couldn’t sleep, not with his mind reminding him just how much he had left behind in the Palace.
Echoes of laughter followed him as he passed room after room, traversing the halls like a ghost.
He passed sitting rooms, libraries, gardens — all reminiscent of memory that wasn’t gone, just faded by time.
He eventually made it to the garden wing, where instead of walls only columns and cool night air bordered the halls.
Xaden remembered this hall the most, how the sunset looked from the marble railing, the picturesque shade of blue the sky would turn on the perfect summer day, how breathtakingly angelic she would look when framed by the golden beams of light in the evening.
Then, as if summoned by his thoughts, there she was.
She was still wearing her dress from the dinner, although without the butterfly pins in her hair and makeup on her face, the dress seemed… simpler, more mundane.
She was perched on the marble railing, back against a column and her head tilted up.
There was a slight curve to her lips, as if she had been confronted with the mysteries of the universe and was perfectly content to leave them unsolved because perhaps life needed a bit of mystery to keep it interesting.
The moon cast a silvery glow onto her skin, making her seem like a nymph, a deity more myth than human, so serene and beautiful that she couldn’t be real.
He walked softly towards her, careful not to disturb her and yet make his footfalls loud enough that she would notice his presence.
She made no movement towards him, didn’t turn or break her gaze from the stars.
He leaned on the column her back was against, remembering the nights they used to ramble on and on about the stars until they became much less interested in talking and more interested in kissing.
Those memories came with a certain ache, one that came from the yearn to feel her lips smile against his as the constellations witnessed two souls intertwining in the most sacred way they could.
“I missed this,” Y/N said, her soft tone a stark contrast to her jovial light during dinner.
“So did I,” Xaden replied, he couldn’t tear his eyes from her as if despite all of the time that had passed, his heart still knew exactly who it belonged to.
“I missed you,” he said and her gaze finally went to him.
Her face shifted from the dullness of tiredness to an aching sort of nostalgia. “You’re looking at me like that again.”
“Like what?” Xaden was grappling at his once-cemented control to not lean further into her.
“Like you love me again,” she replied, pivoting on the railing so she could face him properly.
“Who said I ever stopped?” Xaden replied, every fiber of his being wanting to reach out to her, to feel her on his skin, to remind himself of the one and few moments he found absolute peace.
A blush rose to Y/N’s face. Xaden had forgotten how cute she looked when she was flustered and the twinge of satisfaction he got from knowing it was solely his words or actions that put her in such a state.
“Xaden,” she said, her words just a tad more breathless than before. “You don’t—”
“I mean it,” Xaden said, before the rest of that sentence of doubt could be spoken and made painfully real. “Amari help me, I mean every word. Seeing you laugh at the dinner, tease Cat, get so excited about those lessons we had in the library, it reminded me why I fell for you in the first place. As soon as I saw you in that dress, I wanted to sprint up those stairs and kiss you in front of all of those guests. I wanted to be the one to ruin your makeup and undress you tonight and I didn’t care if I was going to get beat up by Zara the next morning because you are worth it. You are worth every lie, every secret and I would happily spend the rest of my life trying to earn every second I have with you.”
He leaned in as close as he could allow himself, leaving just enough space for her to bridge the gap, leaving her the final decision to change their fates just this night.
“All of my control seems to disappear whenever I’m with you,” he murmured. "Romança?"
They shared exactly two breaths together, two painful moments where the only movement was the stars twinkling above like a rapt audience.
Then she closed the gap, pressing her lips to his so tentatively, the touch felt like glass. But then his hands went to her waist and her hands slipped into his hair and he leaned into her touch, her warmth.
They fell into a rhythm reminiscent of their time spent in hidden alcoves and behind closed doors, hands remembering once more the bodies they traced in darkness.
She kissed him like she had woken up, like she missed him and was trying to make up for lost time — and up above, far away from where the two souls met again after learning what it was like being without one another, the stars twinkled merrily, the only spectators to the overdue reunion of hearts.
Series Taglist: @livelaughlovebylerr @smileysunshinesworld
Summary: Violet finds from a trip to Cordyn that Xaden's relations in Poromiel ran deeper than she thought.
Content Warnings: Use of Y/N, set in Iron Flame, third person POV
Author's Note: Just a little something I whipped up, might write a part two for this if I feel like it. Happy Reading!
(2.1k words)
The salty, ocean air swept through the open palace and gently caressed the fly-aways in Violet’s hair as she walked through the Cordyn Palace.
The whole building looked like it was designed for summer. With its high marble columns, expanses of vibrant and trimmed green grass, glass ceilings to let the sunlight stream in and aquamarine, fresh-water pools, it was a building architects dreamed of designing.
Which only put Violet more on-edge at how vulnerable it was.
Xaden led Brennen, Mira and Violet through the halls, their walls lined with mosaics that looked like they were made with a considerate hand.
It almost unsettled Violet with how familiar Xaden was with the palace, seeming to know the majority of the rooms as well as the guards as he nodded at most of them as they passed by.
When Mira pointed out the cluster of indoor springs, Xaden only replied to be careful near them when drunk and a small rueful smile curved at his lips, as if he could remember the exact day which caused him to warn them now.
Despite his all-black attire, he walked through the hall as if he belonged there. Although admittedly his confidence was one of his stronger traits.
He led the trio across a small bridge over one of the shimmering pools before he walked over to a curving bannister where two guards dressed in crimson stood at post beside a man who had obviously never seen battle before, wearing a blue brocaded waistcoat.
“Viscount,” Xaden said in such a tone it reminded Violet that he was raised in aristocracy, “may I present Cadet Violet Sorrengail and her older sister Lieutenant Mira Sorrengail. I believe you have already met Lieutenant Colonel Aisereigh.”
“I have,” Viscount Tecarus drew out every word like they had all the time in the world. And though his words were directed to Xaden, his eyes were locked on Violet as soon as they approached. “Though it is mainly you I wanted to meet, Cadet Sorrengail. Is it true you can call lightning out of the sky?”
Violet needed slightly, straightening her shoulders. “I can.”
As if she had passed some test she didn’t know about, Tecarus’ eyes perked up and he clasped his hands to his chest. “How wonderful!”
“Shall we—” Brennen started to say, clearly eager to get in and get out as fast as possible.
“It’s improper to discuss business until dinner,” Tecarus cut in. “You know the rules, Riorson.” His tone was somewhere between tease and disapproval.
Xaden only nodded and Violet was left to wonder how many times Xaden had stayed for dinner.
“It’s alright if you didn’t pack anything to wear,” Tecarus continued. “My staff will see that you will have the perfect outfits for the occasion and my nieces will see to it that you are properly settled. Right girls?” he called over his shoulder.
“Of course, Uncle,” a voice said smoothly, coming from the stairs.
Violet’s gaze followed the voice and her blood started boiling in her veins when she saw who it was.
Catriona glided down the white marble staircase, dressed decadently in a sweeping purple dress that Violet was begrudged to admit looked beautiful on her. She seemed serene, flawless even.
Violet turned her gaze back on Xaden and was stabbed in the heart with pain when she saw his expression.
His lips were parted slightly, as if everything else in this room, in the world had faded from his focus. His eyes softened and were deep pools of longing and nostalgia. His hands flexed and unflexed at his sides as if he were debating climbing up the staircase to be closer to her.
Violet’s heart sank, perhaps there was something unresolved between the two.
But that’s when she followed Xaden’s gaze and her anger and disappointment turned into surprise and curiosity.
Behind Catriona, following her a few steps behind was another woman.
She was about her own age and while Catriona reflected the regalness of the palace, the woman seemed to be the personification of the art and vision lining the halls.
Her face was open, smiling as she came down the steps. Her dress was made of a multitude of different fabrics, all sewn together that made it seem chaotic and yet… intentional and beautiful in its own way. There were many accessories adorning her person. There were stacks of bracelets on both wrists, a multitude of colourful rings on her fingers, ornate necklaces and earrings. Her eyes flickered with warmth and mischievousness, as if she had just learned a delicious secret.
“I can’t wait,” the woman said, coming to stand next to Catriona. Beside her, she seemed more fuller than Catriona. More… alive. “It had been a while since I had heard tellings from Tyrrendor.”
“I’m sure there’s nothing that you haven’t heard already, Lady Y/N,” Xaden replied, having been struck out of his daze and offering the woman a soft smile.
“Just Y/N, please,” she said. “I’d hate to go back to formalities.”
“Of course,” Xaden replied and for a quick moment, Violet thought that she had seen a spark in his eyes, a sign that perhaps their words meant something else entirely.
“Well then,” the woman — Y/N said, gesturing towards a hall. “shall we?”
“Which one would you prefer, Miss?” Zara, the lady’s maid who had been assigned to Violet held up two dresses for her to pick from.
One was a deep emerald green with gold brocade with flowing sleeves while the other was a shimmering black with a deep V-neckline and a split skirt.
As much as Violet would have loved to wear something in Tyrrendor’s colours, she had been so accustomed to wearing rider’s black, it was an easy decision.
“The black one please,” Violet replied, toying with the end of the tie of her silk robe she was wearing.
“Good choice, Miss,” Zara said, putting the other dress back in the wardrobe.
“You can call me Violet,” Violet said.
The maid smiled softly, handing her the dress. “I’d prefer to call you Miss, if you don’t mind. It was how I was taught to address those I work for.”
Violet accepted the dress, “Of course not,” and walked behind the screen for privacy.
“How long have you worked for Tecarus?” she asked, beginning to undress.
“For about twenty years, give or take,” Zara’s voice came from beyond the screen. “I used to supervise the children before they grew up into the young ladies they are now.”
Violet’s actions stuttered before continuing, “so you knew Lady Y/N?
“Yes,” Zara’s voice was warm with amusement, “her entire life in fact, never a dull moment, I can tell you that.”
“How does she know Lieutenant Riorson?” Violet asked, slipping her legs into the dress.
“Well, his Grace used to visit frequently as an effect of his engagement to Lady Catriona, although I do believe that his Grace spent more time with Lady Y/N than with Lady Catriona.”
“How so?” Violet asked, stepping out from behind the screen.
“I really shouldn’t say,” Zara replied almost bashfully, walking up behind Violet to button up her dress. “Gossip can spread faster than you’d expect.”
“I promise that I won’t tell,” Violet said with all the earnestness she could muster.
“Well,” Zara said, gently leading Violet to the vanity. “I guess their story is just too wonderful to be kept a secret.”
She retrieved the curling iron which was being heated by the fire, taking a strand of Violet’s hair wrapping it around the rod with fluid movements.
“My lady had always been a romantic of sorts,” Zara began, “even at a young age, she’d go to the library when she had finished her studies to read the romance books her uncle had forbidden her to read. Of course, I would make sure that the ones she had picked up back then weren’t too explicit. We’d pretended like it was our little secret.”
Zara let the piece of hair fall, the piece now redefined into a clean spiral, pinned it up and moved on to the next strand.
“She would tell me about what she had read, always wishing that someday she would have a romance with someone who as well would remember what her favourite type of cake was or learn how she liked to spend rainy days or memorize how to make her favorite drink.”
She repeated the motion — uncurl, pin, next.
“I didn’t have the heart to tell her that men of this world were drastically different from those from the books, that perhaps her standards were a bit… unrealistic.
“So she waited, and waited. Until she found someone who, to my surprise, met all of her standards, perhaps even exceeded them.”
Zara seemed almost lost in her memories, yet her work stayed precise and methodical as she curled about half of Violet’s hair.
“I was there, you know,” she chuckled, “when they first met. I swear it was straight out of a novel. He saw her before she did. He had stopped breathing for a moment, just went perfectly still. His eyes hollowed her like a stray puppy. It was the cutest thing I had ever seen.”
Zara stopped for a moment, tilting the iron towards the fire again before continuing.
“I could never forget the look on my lady’s face. Her cheeks were all rosy and her smile was the brightest I had ever seen. It was as if she had just woken up from a dream. And I suppose in a way she did — it was with his Grace that she truly started living.”
“They danced around each other for a while, his Grace was engaged to Lady Catriona already so any other relationship was of course highly forbidden. But I could see the way he looked at her, even when he thought she wasn’t looking.”
Zara’s mouth curved up in a rueful smile. “It was as if the God of Love had struck him in the chest and said ‘See her? That’s the one meant for you.’”
She released all of the pins and Violet’s gradient hair fell in neat curls down her back.
Zara applied some oil that smelled of peach and summer and ran her fingers through the strands. “They started meeting in secret eventually,” she continued, “although my lady was not very good at keeping secrets, especially from me.”
Once Zara was satisfied with how Violet’s hair looked, she moved on, reading for the charcoal on the vanity.
“She always blushed when recounting her escapades — close your eyes, dear — whether it be riding out in the fields, spending time in the kitchen or reading in tandem in the library. She always recounted it like it was the highlight of her life. I remember feeling both happy and yet sad for her, in my opinion she deserved a love where she didn’t have to hide in a hidden alcove to have a kiss, but it soothed my heart knowing at least she was living the romance she had dreamed for with a man who made her truly happy.
“Lady Catriona made sure that his Grace kept her bed warm every once in a while, though it never really bothered my lady. While his Grace might have given the Lady his body for a few fleeting hours, his heart and soul was already given to someone else.”
The charcoal hadn’t made contact with Violet’s skin for a couple of moments so she took it as a sign to open her eyes.
“He always looked at her with such adoration, it was enough to make any person jealous,” Zara’s eyes turned wistful as she reached for a pot of rouge. “It was as if she were the only marvel in the world, even when she accidentally got drunk and fell into one of the springs, he still looked at her in a way that would have painters aching to depict. There was a certain softness to his features that could only be interpreted as love.”
She dabbed the colour onto Violet’s cheeks and lips so she wouldn’t look as pale in contrast to the black dress. Zara took a step back, admiring her work. “You look lovely, Miss.”
Violet looked at herself in the mirror and couldn’t help but agree. The charcoal around her eyes made her seem more sharp, strong and the red on her lips was a distraction at best. “What happened next?”
“Well, Zara said, “Then the whole rebellion happened and his Grace was sent to a foster home. The last I heard, he was sent to live at the Lindell Estate.”
“Do you think he ever fell out of love with her?”
“Oh Miss,” Zara said ruefully. “You don’t ever fall out of a love like theirs.”
Summary: As politics, battle strategy and venin catch up to the real world, dancing around emotions that you and Xaden may or may not share is unfortunately at the least of your worries.
Content warnings: Use of Y/N, cursing, angst, a temporary conclusion, hopeless romantics
Author's Note: Here it is! As I have run out of book three events to go over, this will be the last chapter of Sunshine for the foreseeable future. Thank you so much to everyone who has stuck around for this series and to anyone who has made it this far, I'd love to hear your thoughts about this series. Happy Reading!
(6.8k words)
Xaden burst into their shared room as Violet was violently tugging on her pants.
She wasn't exactly sleeping anyway when Tairn’s warning sent her into a panic-spurred blur, quickly kicking back the covers to get dressed.
As soon as both of them were fully ready, armed with as many weapons they could fit onto their body, they opened the door at the same time as the door across the hall.
Y/N was dressed in fitting black pants, an emerald green tank top and a black leather jacket that Violet had never seen wear before.
She quickly fell into step beside them as they walked quickly, almost running towards the foyer.
“How far?” she asked, passing by doors opening as more cadets streamed into the hall.
“15 minutes and counting,” Xaden replied.
She nodded, seeming to catalogue the information before her eyes widened. “Xaden, Suri’s in Tirvainne and Ulices departed for Lewellen yesterday.”
“Wonderful,” Xaden muttered, “both generals of my army aren’t present.”
They entered the foyer where Brennan joined them immediately and updated them on the situation.
“How many riders are in residence?” Xaden asked as the bootsteps of riders, infantry and cadets started spilling into the foyer.
“Fifteen retired, eleven active including you,” Brennen said as he buttoned his flight jacket.
“Why are we so undermanned?” Violet asked, the numbers not adding up.
“Tyrrendor riders replaced Navarrian ones at our outposts," Y/N replied, tying her hair into a high ponytail. Her eyes were on the steady stream of people rushing into the room, a sharp look in her eyes.
“We work with what we have,” Xaden said and sprang into action. “Felix, keep an eye on that one,” he pointed at Aaric. “Infantry, get to your posts and take out any wyvern we take to the ground. Riders, run faster.”
The others hurried off as orders were given and Xaden turned back to Brennen and Y/N. “Thoughts?
“They’re probably gonna send small batches to test the wards,” Y/N said, her eyes going back to Xaden, smiles and sunshine gone, and suddenly Violet understood why Xaden made her his top advisor.
“Put the strongest at the front lines,” she continued, “the retired riders at the city gates and cadets defending the wardstone.”
Xaden’s expression was closed off and calculating as he thought, his gaze darting back and forth. “I’ll join the officers. The retired riders might be skilled, but half don’t fly—”
“I’m your best weapon,” Violet interjected. “If you won’t put me at the front lines, then station me at the gates.”
“Absolutely not!” Brennen snapped.
“He’s right,” Xaden added. “Split the retired riders. Half at the wardstone and half in the city in case civilians need to evacuate to the caves. You’re on the wall, Cadet Sorrengail.”
“Send the other cadets,” Y/N said. “They’ve seen battle. They’re assets.”
“Only if they’re willing,” Xaden nodded.
“We’re willing,” Rhi said as she and the majority of the cadets approached. The rest of them nodded.
“Alright. Aetos, your wing, your call.” Xaden said as Brennen left to relay orders.
As Dain gave orders to the cadets, Bodhi rushed down the steps, joining them at the bottom.
“I’m coming with you,” he told Xaden.
“You’re staying with the first years,” Xaden countered.
“The fuck I am,” the anger in Bodhi’s tone was downright terrifying. “I will be at your side—”
“You will be as deep within this house as possible,” Xaden stepped closer to his cousin.
“Guys,” Y/N said, walking to where they were facing off. “C’mon, we don’t—”
“Because I’m not a weapon like you are?” Bodhi continued, ignoring Y/N. “Cuir and I are just as deadly in the air.”
“Because you’re first in line!” Xaden snapped. “Neither of us have an heir. We’re all there is, Bodhi. Take Y/N with you, protect her, get her away from danger. Our family just got Tyrrendor back and we will not lose her to your ego. Understood?”
Bodhi’s eyes narrowed in a quiet fury. “We’ll lose her to yours. Understood.” And with that, he disappeared into the crowd.
Xaden sighed, “Fuck.” He turned to Y/N, who was standing beside him. “Go with him, stay safe. Please.”
Y/N’s brows were drawn together in worry. “I will.”
He drew her into a quick hug before pressing a kiss to her forehead. “I refuse to let you fall into their grasp. Stay out of trouble, stay out of the infirmary and be here when I come back.”
“You better come back,” she replied. “I don’t care if it’s in one piece or three. Just come back alive, please.”
“Of course I will, Sunshine,” Xaden cupped her face. “I have too much to fight for.”
She almost sagged in relief before Xaden pressed another soft kiss against her forehead before letting her go.
His eyes followed her figure as she followed Bodhi.
Violet pushed all of her feelings to the side, she had a battle to win.
The look that Xaden gave me made me worry for him.
He looked tired, defeated and lost, like he let his guard down and that was all there was.
Do you believe in love, Xaden?
How foolish I had been to say those words out loud. I saw it in his eyes, he knew what it meant, what I meant. That’s why he hesitated before replying, to think about his answer. But was it to think about how to let me down slowly or to gather the courage to either say yes or no?
I pushed the thoughts aside as I looked around, trying to find Bodhi in the crowd.
Where did he go?
He wouldn’t have gone back to his rooms, that was too obvious and the anger in Bodhi’s face told me he wanted to do anything but Xaden’s orders. Unless…
You will be as deep within this house as possible.
I quickly changed course, heading to the centre of the house — the Assembly Chamber.
I opened the heavy door and stepped inside, shutting it behind me.
Bodhi was pacing just below the dais where the throne of Tyrrendor sat, looming over the room in its large and intimidating structure.
“Bodhi…” I walked around the table to where he was.
“Don’t, Y/N,” Bodhi said, not bothering to look at me. “Not now.”
“C’mon, Bodes, talk to me,” I stopped near the end of the Assembly table, watching him pace back and forth. “Please.”
He sighed, finally looking up and meeting my gaze.
The room was dark, so I couldn’t see much but I could clearly see the simmering wrath in his eyes.
“How is it fair that he’s the one who gets to fight?” Bodhi said. “He’s the duke for fucks sake!” He ran his fingers in his hair as he continued pacing. “He hits me with all of the ‘first in line’ bullshit when I don’t even want to be fucking duke! I train just as hard as he does, I’m one of the strongest at Basgiath and he grounds me. How is that fair to me and Cuir?”
“There’s more to Tyrrendor than just her present, Bodes,” I said. “You’re who the Assembly will turn to if Xaden’s gone.”
“Don’t defend him to me,” he snapped. “You could probably find a loophole to this fucking situation.”
I bit my lip, knowing that he was right, I did know of an exception that would make him second in line, technically, although the thought of it made my stomach turn.
“He pulled me out of class, out of battles and expects me to go along with this, the bastard,” Bodhi muttered, glaring daggers at the throne atop the dais as if it was the source of all of his problems, and I guess it was.
I hopped up onto the Assembly table, watching a strom roll in outside, blocking out the moonlight.
I sighed, remembering the last meeting we had in this room, and what decisions awaited us if they won today’s battles.
“I don’t even know what’s going on in this gods-damned province,” Bodhi said, his anger fading, however slightly.
“We just refused King Tauri from having access to more Tyrrish soldiers,” I said, my voice so quiet and yet echoing so loud in the chamber.
That got Bodhi to stop pacing. “What?”
“We’ve been thinking about it for a while. Made it official yesterday.”
“That’s…” Bodhi ran his fingers through his hair. “Fuck.”
“Politics, am I right?” I said dryly.
“Sunny, this is bad. I doubt he was asking for troops. Tauri could retaliate—”
“Not just retaliate, Bodes,” I said, rubbing my temple. I’ve been over this scenario so many times, mulled over every possibility, trying to see three steps ahead. “This could launch a civil war.” One we really couldn’t afford.
“Fuck,” Bodhi came to lean against the table beside me.
“Fuck indeed.”
I could hear the cheers and celebration all the way from my room.
It was well past midnight, the constellations shining outside my window. The Wandering Captain constellation twinkled above, right in vantage view at this hour.
I was on the floor, a circle of papers around me, all separated into piles — urgent, I can get to that tomorrow and I should probably give this to someone else.
Concerningly, the urgent pile was growing much larger than the other ones.
I cracked open another letter, this one about the mines and how there were whispers amongst the miners about plans to go on strike.
I sighed, putting it in the urgent pile.
My eyelids were starting to get heavy, and I knew that soon, my mind would become too bleary to focus on anything.
There was a soft knock at the door, pulling me out of my thoughts.
“Come in,” I said.
The door opened, the hinges creaking softly, letting the sounds of celebration leak in before it slid shut.
Xaden stepped inside, a steaming mug in one hand.
He saw me sitting cross-legged in my circle of paper and raised a scarred brow.
“Don’t ask,” I said, reaching out to accept the mug as he extended it towards me. The cup warmed my hands, the drink smelled soothing.
He sat at my desk chair, forearms on knees as he studied my piles. A small smile graced his lips. “No, I think I’ll ask.”
I pointed to each of my piles. “This is the ‘why did I even get this’ pile. Nothing interesting. Although I did learn we have exactly 5059 sheep.” I pointed to the next one. “The ‘the government won’t implode if I look at this tomorrow’ pile. Pretty self-explanitory.” Then the last one. “And the ‘things crawling up our ass and will cause serious problems unless we fix it now’ pile.”
Xaden nodded, unfazed. “That is… surprisingly pretty organised.” He eyes the urgent pile. “So what’s crawling up our ass today, Sunshine?”
I sighed, eyeing the large stack of paper as well. “The miners in Lewellen are on verge of going on a strike, we’re going to have to start demanding more from our farmers to accommodate the refugees we’re housing and, the most pressing,” I made eye contact with him, “Halden was spotted near the Calldyr border. With troops.”
“How predictable,” Xaden murmured. “The prince makes more decisions with his dick than with his brain.”
I chuckled, leaning back against my hands. “I thought you would be downstairs, celebrating,”
“I was, until I realized you weren’t there,” Xaden replied.
“No rest for the wicked,” I sighed.
A corner of Xaden’s mouth quirked up. “That is hilarious coming from you.”
“Gee thanks,” I murmured over the rim of the mug before I took a sip. The tea was comforting as I swallowed, warming my insides.
“You should rest,” Xaden said.
I motioned to the pile of unread letters and reports. “And have all of this stare at me all night? No thanks.”
He sighed. “We have an Assembly meeting tomorrow, Sunny. We’re going to go over everything anyway. I’d rather have you rested and prepared than sleepy and drinking a cup of coffee every three hours.”
“That was one time, Xaden—”
“—Which could easily turn into two,” The look in his eyes was intent and unmoving. “Trust me, Sunshine, all of our problems will still be there in the morning.”
I hated how right he was and how much weaker my resolve was when it was past midnight.
I set the mug down before collecting the piles and setting them on my desk.
My eyes strayed to the crack in the open door, to the closed one cone across from it.
“How’s Violet holding up?” I asked, walking over to my bed and sitting on top of the sheets. “I heard about the whole Andarna thing.”
“She’s dealing,” Xaden replied, leaning back in the chair. “Losing a dragon is hard. No one has ever survived that kind of loss… But she’ll get through it.”
I nodded, not knowing what else to do — what else to say.
A part of me wanted to ask the question again — the one that he was going to answer before we were interrupted.
But another part of me was scared, of what I’d have to face if he said no, or what we’ll be admitting to each other if he said yes.
The Wandering Captain twinkled outside my window among the stars, her figure seeming to wink at me.
“The moon is beautiful, isn’t it?” I said, the moon was nowhere in sight in the stretch of night outside the window.
Xaden didn’t even bother looking outside before he replied. “Yes, it is.”
My gaze went back to him, the candle nearby casting shadows across his face, sharpening his cheekbones and jaw while softening his bottomless eyes.
He looked like the type of darkness people found sanctuary in, whispering secrets into it like it was their only friend.
The kind that has a soft caress, the kind that protects.
“Thank you,” I said, “for the clothes.”
When I had opened the wardrobe in panic, there were pants, shirts, and other things waiting patiently inside. They were all my size, and certainly not what I packed.
“You’re welcome,” Xaden replied, “I thought you’d like to have more than five pairs of socks.”
I chuckled softly which turned into a yawn. I covered my mouth with my hand. “Sorry.”
“I should probably let you rest,” Xaden said, standing up from the desk. He crossed the distance quickly and pressed a kiss to my forehead.
The gesture was brief and yet — intimate, considerate.
“Goodnight, Sunshine,” he said softly before pulling away and heading towards the door.
Every step felt final, like a last chance.
“Xaden—” I called out and he turned around in the doorframe.
“Yeah, Sunshine?”
Say it.
The words were in my throat, waiting to be said.
I love you. Stay. Kiss me again. Make me forget all of my troubles.
But fear tamped them back down. Fear of rejection. Fear that the pessimistic part of me might be right.
“Goodnight,” I said instead.
Xaden smiled although it seemed… dimmed, as if he could sense all of the words I wished I’d spoken instead. “Night, Sunny.”
Xaden was, for lack of a better word, tired.
Tired of dancing around his emotions, waiting for a moment he didn’t know if he was ready for.
He opened the door to his and Violet’s room softly, not wanting to disturb her.
The room was dark, no candles were lit and the fire in the fireplace had been reduced to glowing embers.
Violet’s figure was outlined by shadows in their shared bed. She was on her side, facing away from the door.
She wasn’t sleeping, Xaden noticed as he closed the door, plunging the room back into darkness.
He moved around easily enough, knowing the layout by heart and using his shadows to help as he quietly changed out of his clothes and into something more comfortable.
Violet didn’t say a word as Xaden slipped into bed, settling in the sheets beside her.
He knew that she didn’t need words right now, so he wrapped his arms around her waist, offering the only comfort he could give.
It was an action he’d done countless times before and yet somehow it felt… different. Like it had lost its meaning.
And he knew that nothing was different, except for him — him and his heart.
Because being in bed with Violet, holding her like he always did felt almost traitorous, knowing that his heart wasn’t hers anymore, that without knowing, he’d given it to someone else.
It was wrong for him to continue like this and not tell her, but even more so for him to tell her now, when she needed him most.
So he only did what he could do — trace circles on her skin the way he knew she liked and comfort her silently.
“Well look at that,” Xaden could practically hear Sunny’s voice ring in his head, “he does have morals after all.”
The next week felt like a dream — a very stressful, tiring dream. A nightmare, not a dream.
I walked out of one meeting and straight into another, losing track of where and when I got pieces of information and concluding that I simply had it.
The only impactful thing we had done so far was cut Tauri off from Talladium until Halden and his troops back off from our borders and confirm that our riots are safe at Basgiath.
My fingers were starting to get stained with ink from the amount of letters and missives I had to write and papers I had to sign and I was running on five hours of sleep per night.
But I refused to complain, I couldn’t. Not with thousands of Poromish citizens still crossing the Modero Pass and us still having no means to feed them all.
I sighed in frustration, sifting through letter after letter as I headed towards the Assembly Chamber, where maybe I could get some peace and quiet.
I pushed open the doors, looked up from the papers and froze.
Xaden and Bodhi were clearly in the middle of an argument from the looks of the glares they were sending each other and also the looks on Brennen and Violet’s faces as they were further into the chambers.
Xaden’s eyes quickly flicked to me and I was relieved to see anger instead of cold ice simmering in them.
“The answer is no,” he told Bodhi, his gaze returning back to his cousin.
“I’m not your backup plan,” Bodhi took two steps back. “You are the duke and I am the rider. That’s how it was always supposed to be until our parents got themselves executed. I will stand by your side and be your right-fucking-hand for the rest of our lives, but if you want a member of our family to hold that sea,” he pointed at the throne on the dias, “you better get your shit together.”
With that, he turned and walked out of the room, not bothering to look in my direction as he stormed off.
Xaden sighed, one that told me that he was holding up just as well as I was, before turning his attention to me.
His eyes landed on the papers in my arms and asked “Crawling up our ass pile?”
I shook my head. “Mix of all three.” I walked deeper into the room and set them on the table. “Did you know we had a Head of Architecture? Cause I didn’t until he started sending me letters about the structural integrity of one of our outposts.”
I turned back around to face him. “Now are you gonna tell me what that was about?”
Xaden sighed again, running his fingers through his hair. “Bodhi wants to drop out.”
I nodded, absorbing the information. It wasn’t really all that surprising, considering the rant he gave me about a week ago. “And you said no.”
“In case he takes over, he needs to learn everything he can,” Xaden said.
I didn’t miss the words “in case” but I also didn’t miss what he was saying.
He was planning for his downfall, putting in failsafes for the day when he won’t be there.
“Hey,” he said, pulling me out of my thoughts. He stepped closer, carding his fingers through my hair. The effect was instantly calming. “I’m not giving up, I promise. I just need to make sure that Tyrrendor will be okay in the worse-case scenario.”
I nodded again and he placed a kiss at the hop of my forehead.
“So,” He said, pulling away just slightly, “how was your day, Sunshine?”
“You mean besides all this?” I gestured to the papers, “I’m debating on whether or not I should ask for a fourth cup of coffee.”
“No can do, Sweetheart,” my heart jumped stupidly at the new nickname. “I asked the staff to only give you three cups per day.”
My jaw dropped. “Did you just parental control my caffeine intake?”
“Duke’s orders,” the smirk on his face was pure Xaden as he placed his forefinger under my chin and eased my mouth closed. “Can’t have you vibrating off the walls, can I?”
“That was one time and I was five,” I said, “on one sip of espresso.”
“Yes, and I’m pretty sure it altered your brain,” he replied, “and for the record, I didn’t know we had a Head of Architecture.”
“Well, he’s getting on my last nerve,” I grumbled. “I had to explain to him like he was two how the fact that the outposts are made of two different types of wood isn’t exactly our greatest priority. To which he responded and I quote ‘But it’s an eyesore’.”
“That sounds like quite a day,” Xaden said, his hands moving down towards the nape of my neck.
“I’m turning into a workaholic, Xaden,” I tilted my head back. “I have sunken to a new low.” I took a deep breath. “So how was your day?”
“Nothing that you haven't heard of already,” he replied, looking into my eyes as if he could see past them and into my mind. “Although the evacuation is going slower than we thought it would.”
“It’s the Madero Pass, give it time. They’ll figure it out.”
“Time isn’t exactly something we have right now, Sunshine,” he said softly.
I sighed. “I know, but what else can we do?”
The echoes of my unspoken words ricocheted in my mind.
What else can we do?
But wait?
If I had to listen to more than three voices shouting over each other again, I was going to combust.
The emergency meeting was called as soon as Garrick had relayed Theophanie’s message to Xaden and Violet.
We were all in the Assembly chamber — generals, lieutenants, captains and Hedeon knew who else surrounding the table where a map of Draithus and its surrounding area was.
My mind was sorting through the cards we were dealt, the information we knew.
Theophanie has Mira. Theophaine was going to attack Draithus and kill Mira unless we delivered Bodhi and Violet. Theophanie would attack Draithus as soon as she got what she wanted.
My mind was going a mile a minute, staring at the map, visualizing the battle ahead, calculating speed, time, potential strategies, anything that could allow us to win in favourable chances.
I tried to concentrate but the shouting was messing with my thoughts. It was like useless information trying to force itself into my brian and distract me.
Draithus was on the table, thousands of souls waiting for us to save them miles away.
I looked around the room, captains arguing with cadets, generals and lieutenants debating over the best strategies, Xaden on the dias, staring at the map, his expression revealing that he was just as struck as I was.
It was chaos, unorganized chaos that had gone on for too long and had given us nothing.
And I was done with it.
“Everyone SHUT UP!” I yelled as loud as my voice could go.
The room’s attention went to the head of the table where I stood, both hands on the wood in front of me.
“This shouting has been going on for ten minutes,” I said. “That’s ten minutes wasted for us and a ten minute head start for our enemies. So unless you’d like to give them more, I suggest we focus.”
The room stayed relatively silent, which meant a green light for me to continue.
“We start with the what,” I continued, gesturing to the map. “What do we know?”
“Theophanie has Lieutenant Mira Sorrengail hostage,” Brennan said from beside me. “And she has threatened to attack Draithus if we do not deliver Cadets Violet Sorrengail and Bodhi Durran to the north fields,” he pointed to the area on the map.
“Is Professor Kaori in residence?” I asked and he quickly walked to the front of the room.
“Have you been to Draithus?” I asked and he nodded, “Once.”
“Good, I need a roughly scaled projection of the land.”
Kaori lifted his hands and projections of hills and houses rose from the table.
Both Brennen and I leaned forward, examining the new life-sized map.
“Alright,” I said, setting a yellow flag at the meet point Theophanie had relayed. “What else do we know?”
“Excuse me?” one of the generals piped up. “This is a waste of time. This is an assembly room, not a first-grade classroom, we need to come up with a strategy, not go over what we already know at a snail’s pace.”
I made direct eye contact with the general through the projection. “You want me to stop treating you like children? Then stop acting like you haven’t been on a war council before. Theophanie has given us a very clear deadline to her demands and unless we don’t come up with a plan in thirty minutes, Draithus and every Poromish citizen climbing the Medaro Pass is dead. I am doing the logical thing and laying down all of our knowledge and assets for us to make the best decision possible while you are wasting my time by complaining. So I suggest you stop doubting my abilities and start telling me what. The fuck. You know.”
I could see the muscles in the general’s throat actively move as they swallowed their pride perhaps and I listened as they explained where exactly our defenses were.
Xaden climbed down the dias and joined me at the head of the table.
“What are you thinking?” he asked, crossing his arms as he gazed at the map on the table.
“You’re not going to like it,” I replied and if I was being honest with myself, I didn’t like it either.
“Tell me,” he said.
“I say we save Driathus,” my eyes were also on the map, focusing on where our defenses were.
“And Mira?”
I swallowed, hating myself for saying these next words. “She’s dead weight.”
“What?” Violet’s eyes went wide, her nostrils flaring in anger. “She’s my sister.”
“Exactly,” I replied. “Theophanie might have made this personnel by taking your sister but war isn’t. We have to save the lives we can.”
“And Mira doesn’t count as one of those lives?” Violet shot back. “Theophanie has her hostage—”
“Fire,” I interrupted. We didn’t have time for this. “Let’s see this as a hostage situation. The first thing we need is proof of life, which Theophanie hasn’t given us. For all we know she’s dead, Violet.” I saw Brennan’s eyes go to me for a brief second and winced internally.
“You have to see this logically, not emotionally. It’s either we deliver the most powerful rider we have and the heir to the Tyrrish throne to the enemy or we could lose the lives of riders, Navarre citizens and Poromish citizens in a battle that isn’t exactly in our favor. And if the battle is guaranteed then we must focus all of our resources into saving as many citizens as we can.”
Violet went silent as she processed my words.
I despised everything I just said, and hated how unfair the odds were to Mira’s favour.
“If there was another way, Violet,” I said. “I swear to you I’d choose it in a heartbeat.”
The hall fell dead silent as my words dissipated into thin air.
“Altight, everyone except for the eight of us, get out,” brennen said as he pushed off the table.
All of the cadets, and leadership quickly filed out of the room until only Xaden, Brennen, Violet, Kaori, Dain, Garrick, Bodhi remained.
Brennan’s eyes slid shut before he said his next words. “She’s right.”
“What?” Violet said, shock, anger and maybe betrayal crossing her face.
“We can’t save everyone at once,” he continued. “We have to choose one objective.”
“You’re asking me who I’d rather save and who I’d rather let die,” Violet said, everything in her voice was horrified.
“Welcome to leadership,” Xaden said.
“You have to choose,” Brenen said, “one objective, one goal.”
Time seemed to have gone by both painfully slow and fast at the same time as the clock ticked both literally and figuratively.
“I say we go after Theophanie,” Violet said.
My eyebrows shot up, I wasn’t expecting that.
“Alright, I can work with that,” Brennen said. “I think I’ve got an idea…”
My eyes remained on the map as the riders began to file out of the room, preparing for the battle ahead.
It’s a solid plain, I thought over and over again so that my doubts couldn’t overtake my mind.
There were so many variables, things that could change or go wrong.
There was too much at stake for things to go wrong.
“You did everything you could.”
I looked up and saw that Xaden hadn’t left.
He was still standing at the head of the table, his eyes trained on me.
“It still doesn’t feel like enough,” I replied, standing from my seat in one of the council chairs just to sit on the table so I could stop staring at the map.
“It is enough,” Xaden said, his footsteps echoing in the empty Assembly Chamber as he came up beside me, leaning on the table.
“This feels like an ending,” I confessed, the silence of the room making my words seem louder — more than I wanted them to be, “like we’re all hurdling down towards an imminent conclusion.”
He sighed, his posture slackening as his head tipped back.
“Maybe we are,” was his reply. “Maybe this is all in the god’s plan for us.” He turned his head to face me and I was met with deep onyx. “But that doesn’t stop us from praying to Dunne anyway.”
“All of this just makes our personal problems feel so small,” I said. With every second that passed I couldn’t help but think that this might be the last conversation I’d ever have with him. Every word felt heavy, intentional. “Why worry if someone reciprocates feelings when you can worry about all of this instead?”
“That doesn’t make your worries any smaller. They’re still there, still weighing you down.”
“Is that why everything feels so heavy?” I asked, gazing at the throne perched upon the dais, its presence looming over the room like a judgemental king.
“This role,” his eyes followed where mine were looking, “this responsibility wasn’t meant to be handled alone.” He finger grazed mine where they were side-by-side on the table and I felt that small touch everywhere in my body. “It’s why a duke is meant to have a duchess.”
My gaze went down to our hands, the matching obsidian shining in the dying candlelight.
“How did you do it then?” I asked, mentally cursing at myself at the spark of hope that ignited in my chest at his words. “You didn’t have a duchess.”
“I didn’t,” I willed myself to be brave enough to look at him again. He looked like a fallen angel — remorseful, solemn and ironically peaceful.
His gaze flicked to me again and I had to mentally tell myself to not look away. “I had someone better. I had you.”
Oh gods. It wasn’t until now that I realized how close we were. We were one act of bravery, one bad decision from brushing lips.
I could imagine the different mays could pan out.
He could lean in first, or I could or we both could at the same time. Or neither of us could and we’d still be stuck in the zone of what if.
Before I could consider what I would do, the door creaked open and the moment shattered.
I pulled away first, before anyone walking in got the wrong idea.
“Xaden?”
I exhaled a bit in relief when I heard it was only Garrick.
“I’ll be there,” he replied, pushing off the table and turning to stand directly in front of me.
Xaden wrapped me up in a hug that felt too much like goodbye.
“Thank you,” he said softly, but loud enough that I could hear him, “for everything.”
“Don’t say that,” my voice became thick as tears rolled down my face. “Please don’t say goodbye.”
“This isn’t a goodbye, Sunshine,” yet his arms tightening around me called him a liar.
He swallowed thickly before whispering so quietly, I thought I misheard, “My Sunshine.”
I closed my eyes and reveled in the moment. The one split second when I allowed myself to be his.
I wanted to beg him, beg for him not to leave, to stay and whisper those same words over and over again.
His arms retracted and I felt the absence of his presence in my heart before the absence of his warmth on my skin.
He lingered like if he couldn’t bring himself to leave now, he might never.
“Go,” I said, cracking my heart little by little as I chose to be the stronger out of the two of us in this moment. “Tyrrendor needs you.”
A lingering kiss was pressed to my forehead before the sound of boots against stone flooring and eventually the sound of the Assembly Chamber door sliding shut with a thud that echoed in the room.
I let the tears roll freely down my face, prayed to any god who would be willing to listen and hoped that that wasn’t the last I had seen of my friends as I heard the front formations start to take off.
It was always Hedeon I prayed to, but now I found myself drifting towards another god.
Please, Dunne. Help my friends. Save the innocent. Save him.
A sudden draft blew through the chamber and I shivered before freezing, horror spreading through my veins.
None of the windows are open.
Candles flickered, before blowing out completely.
“How sad,” a voice I didn’t recognize yet instantly knew as danger filled the room, “a little lost girl trying to fit in the home who had moved on without her.”
My heart beat widely in my chest, though I tried my best not to show it on my face.
“No friends, no family, hopelessly in love with the one person you cannot have. What a touching goodbye you shared.”
Out of the shadows, two gems of red stared deep into my soul.
“Don’t worry, you’ll see him soon enough.”
All Xaden felt deep in a canyon in Draithus was rage.
Rage for Sgaeyl as she fought against the ropes binding her to the ground. Rage towards the professor he thought he could trust. Rage towards the venin mage standing before him.
The ice that he stepped onto was tinted red as he let the anger wash away and be replaced with cold and sharp ruthlessness.
Berwyn did not get to chain the only other who had seen every broken piece of himself and had chosen to love him despite them and get to walk away alive.
His fingers curl into fists, digging into his palms and letting him feel the foreign yet familiar feeling of metal pressing against his skin.
The ring had been gifted as a reminder of all he had to fight for. Now, it was only a reminder of all he had to lose.
And he was done with gambling, done with the constant fear and uncertainty.
“Do not give in,” Sgaeyl’s voice penetrated through the mirage of thoughts. “You must not lose yourself to this darkness.”
Darkness? He was darkness. He was vengeance and malice and night.
“I have to admit,” Berwyn said, his voice distant and yet drenched and dripping with twisted amusement, “it had been fun tugging at your strings, seeing what made you tick, seeing you try to play my game. But unfortunately all good things must come to an end.”
He reached into the darkness and a gasp, one that for the first time slid true and cold horror into his veins answered.
“You really think I would leave my plan up to only one life that you would love?” Berwyn grinned horribly as he dragged Y/N out by her hair.
She was limping, favoring her left leg, blood ran down the side of her temple and tear marks stained her cheeks.
“Xaden, don’t do it,” she said.
Gods, her voice was hoarse. Bruises coloured the column of her throat like a necklace.
What had he done to her?
Berwyn only laughed as he wrapped his hand around her throat.
What had he done to her?
“Xaden please,” she pleaded, her eyes filled with pain and desperation and love — so much love it made Xaden’s heart sink in his chest.
Her words and his need to protect everything he loved — protect her, grappled at his chest until it cleaved it in two.
He didn’t deserve her love or forgiveness and yet, what was remaining of his soul pleaded for it as he knelt down and placed a palm on the ground.
Magic responded, vibrating and dancing beneath the surface.
Forgive me.
He reached, letting the dark magic that was never meant to be touched fill his veins with cold, unforgiving ice.
It froze his soul bit by bit, crystalizing and killing every emotion he had. Guilt, grief, anxiety, hatred, fear. It made him feel lighter, less heavy, until the rest started to die. Happiness, excitement, awe, hope, love.
He grappled with those emotions, desperate to hold onto something that wasn’t just cold and lonely emptiness.
But it was all gone.
What was left was quiet. The wind-barren landscape that gave him enough quiet to focus on what he needed to become.
He split into shadow and mist, becoming nothing and everything all at once
He was in the sky, on the ground, in the turrets killing wyvern until they dropped like marionettes with their strings cut.
He didn’t just wield power, he was power.
Darkness swept through the canyon, enveloping it in shadow.
Xaden gave himself one second, one precious second to digest what he had just done before he slid onto his knees towards Y/N.
He reached out and his fingertips brushed her cheek.
She gasped as her breathing quickened.
“It’s alright,” Xaden said softly, reaching out to cradle her face with as much gentleness as he could muster. “It’s just me.”
There was a moment when Xaden thought she would recoil anyway, terrified of what he had just become.
Instead, he felt her lean into his touch, shuffling closer.
“Your hands are cold like his,” she said, and her fingers clumsily met his cheekbone, traveling upwards to his eyes, as if she could feel the veins turned crimson there. “I want to see you,” her words were soft, something he didn’t deserve.
“No you don’t, Sunshine,” he replied. He found himself wondering how she would react. If his soul was still alive, that curiosity would’ve probably been fear, but his heart didn’t speed up in his chest, his mind didn't race. He felt hollow in his new form.
“Yes, I do,” her fingers swept back and forth across his skin. “Please.”
He closed his eyes, taking a deep breath before commanding the shadows to recede.
He waited for the warmth of her skin on his to leave, and waited for her to gasp in fear.
Instead, he felt her fingertips gliding across his skin, as if she was tracing the newly-formed red veins around his eyes.
“Xaden…” she whispered, a silent question in her tone.
He obliged, slowly opening his eyes which instantly met hers.
He’d expected to find fear, horror or at least trepidation in her eyes but all that was there was love. Pure, unmoving love that made Xaden remember that he couldn’t love her back anymore.
“Do you trust me?” he asked, his hand going from her cheek to grasp her wrist.
“Of course I do,” she replied with so much confidence it made Xaden almost wince.
“Are you sure about this?” Sgaeyl asked, “you know it is not supposed to be her.”
“I don’t care,” Xaden replied. “I trust her. With everything.”
Summary: Thanks to insistence from your friend Quinn, you couldn't help but wonder what it would be like to date Xaden Riorson.
Content Warnings: set during Xaden's second year at Basgiath, no use of Y/N, no cursing, wrote this in an hour
Author's Note: The writing gods have struck me with sudden motivation and I wrote this at 10pm last night. Just a quick little flashfic to keep the motivation going! Happy reading!
(500 words) (exactly!!)
“You should see the way he looks at you!” Quinn said around a mouthful of food.
I couldn’t help but smile at her enthusiasm. For the past week, she had been insisting that Xaden Riorson had a thing for me.
“He probably looks at me like I’m fresh meat,” I replied, taking a bite of my apple, “as does everyone when they look at first years.”
“No, trust me on this, it’s different,” Quinn insisted, waving her fork in the air like it was a magic wand. “The way he looks at you is pulled straight out of a romance book. His eyes go all soft and he smiles, actually smiles.”
My gaze went to where Xaden sat with the rest of the second years at a table further down the dining hall.
My family was Tyrrish, although they weren’t part of the apostasy.
I remembered the days when we’d visit Aretia and be able to see the impressive house in the mountains.
I used to think how lucky the future duke was for being able to live in a grand house like that.
Life seemed so much more simpler back then, Tyrrendor was fighting for independence, which was a regular topic at the dinner table, and I was going to live without ever getting tangled up in the politics of it all.
Oh, how life had changed.
Back then Xaden had been but a boy, as I was but a girl. But now we were grown up, training to be sacrificed in war.
I could still see traces of the young boy in him.
How his hair fell across his forehead, the light in his eyes when the sun shone in them.
I couldn’t help but wonder what I would be like to be with him.
The slow sunny morning when we’d struggle to get out of bed because it felt too nice next to each other. Sparring where we’d do more flirting than actual training. Late dinners under the stars where the wind would eventually blow too cold and we’d be forced to go inside.
All of it seemed perfect, but it wasn’t real.
What was real was our secret little rivalry in Battle Brief, that competitive spark during sparring, the little jabs in the hallways between classes and that one night when he caught me crying in the courtyard past midnight after a particularly bad day. He spent the night sitting beside me and eventually took me back to my dorm.
I hadn’t mentioned it since, and neither had he.
He caught me staring, his lips curving into the wicked smirk I had grown accustomed to.
I tried picturing those lips in the smile Quinn had described to me.
As soon as I did, I blinked it away.
Gods, that mental picture was dangerous.
I gave him a smirk, the middle finger and turned back to face Quinn.
“Q, the day Xaden Riorson smiles for me like that is the day I’ll fall in love with him.”
Do y'all remember the "carrying your girlfriend bridal style with one arm" trend? Well...
"Midstep Xaden reached down, hooked his forearm under her knees and scooped her up, carrying her bridal style with one arm with ease that said that he had done it multiple times before and tender care that said that he’d do it over and over and over again.
Y/N didn’t even say anything, just held onto his neck and leaned her head against his shoulder. All of her muscles relaxed as if it was in Xaden’s arms where she could truly and completely rest."
Summary: During a siege in Samara, even the strongest can fall...
Content Warnings: Cursing, POV switch, violence, cliffhanger, set in Iron Flame, yes I know the ending is rushed.
Author's Note: Hello! I'm alive! I'm so sorry for the sudden month of silence, the new semester has been kicking my butt and I got like 50% writer's block. But anyway, I'm back and I have like three different drafts I'm currently working on, so there's more coming soon! (Also did you see the book 4 announcement? I'm so excited!!!)
(1.8k words)
A captain was sending his drift out to die.
He didn’t know this of course, and if he had known what was waiting for them at his target, he certainly wouldn’t have considered attacking that outpost in a million years.
The wind whipped through the feathers and fur of his griffon as they flew out towards the Esben Mountains.
Just as they crossed the border into Navarre, the captain noticed something strange happening in the sky around them.
Misty gray clumps of cloud were materializing right in front of them, as if rolled into a snowball by an invisible hand. More started populating the sky until the drift was forced to fly lower in order to not travel through an endless expanse of gray.
Strange, the captain thought. The outpost didn’t have a storm wielder, at least not according to their sources.
The clouds started to darken, as if shadows had started bleeding from its heart and were spreading through its body until all of them looked like a bad omen.
The captain knew exactly what type of clouds they were — storm clouds.
Soon enough both he, his drift and their griffons were soaking wet and irritated.
The weather was anything but natural, made by a calculating hand and though it would not deter them, it certainly slowed down the drift and gave the enemy more time to prepare.
By the time the drift had reached the Samara outpost, the rain had let up, although the dark clouds had remained — a dark blanket choking the last bit of sunlight until the soon-to-be battlefield was swathed in darkness.
A figure was standing outside the doors of the outpost. The storm wielder maybe, the captain thought. Her posture was unnervingly calm, as if she already knew the results of the battle to come and was just waiting to see how quickly the drift would fall.
“Turn around, Captain,” her voice traveled in the gusting wind, swirling around his ears tauntingly, “while you still have your crew.” The sound was like honey, sweet and smooth, although he knew it was laced with poison.
The Captain didn’t hesitate, still continuing to drive the drift forward, all the while something snaked around his heart and squeezed. Foreboding.
“Oh well,” the woman said, although her voice held not a note of disappointment. “I warned you.”
The landscape ahead grew darker, like a wave of shadow rolled over the shore of the outpost, and the woman simply vanished as if she herself was made of smoke and myth.
The whole thing felt wrong, like someone had changed the rules of the world without his knowledge.
The Captain signaled to his drift and they broke formation, each in different directions until they surrounded the outpost.
He waited for the drop, the first sign of the riders inside ready to fight for their outpost.
And found nothing but eerie silence.
His fliers glanced at him confused, this was not going according to plan.
They waited, waited, waited.
Until a heart-stopping sound shattered the silence.
The undeniable roar of a dragon shook the sky, a sound of pure wrath and fury.
The Captain’s blood froze in his veins, his heart dropping into his stomach as he saw the rest of his crew turn white in fear.
The last thing he saw was his lieutenant open her mouth to scream before everything went dark.
“Thirty-six griffins,” I told Xaden as I strode back into the outpost.
The sound of boots echoed all around as infantry started filing out of the building and into the field ahead.
The noise outside bled into the halls as he and I ran up towards the towers — sounds of wings flapping, the screeches of dragon and griffin alike and human screams, shouts and cries.
The sounds of our two sets of footsteps ricocheted off the stone walls as we raced up the stairs towards the turret.
Without having to look back I knew a third had joined us, but I didn’t have time to slow.
“This plan is risky,” the person said, Lieutenant Colonel Degrensi, the commander of the outpost.
“With all due respect, it’s a little too late to be questioning the plan now,” I replied.
We climbed up the last few steps and the wind of the storm whipped past my flight jacket, the cold seeping through the fabric.
“This is the closest fliers had ever gotten to the outpost in decades!” Degrensi insisted, following us up to the roof.
“Then you’ll have to trust the dragons to go through with the plan,” Xaden replied as I scanned the sky for a familiar green glint.
“Where are you?” I asked Hinvyre, walking towards the edge.
“Thirty seconds out,” she replied and I hope that her calm tone reflected well on the plan’s execution.
“There is too much at stake!” He continued, his voice got lost in the winds so I commanded them to die down.
“Colonel, I understand that infantry and riders don’t particularly get along, but in order for this strategy to work, we must work with each other,” I said. “Which means trusting one another.”
“Twenty seconds.”
“I trust that your men can take out the fliers we bring to the ground.” I stepped up onto the turret, out in the distance I could see Hinvyre flying towards us at a fast speed. “I need you to trust that we can take out the griffins for your men.”
Degrensi looked towards Xaden, who stepped up on the turret. “Do you trust her?”
“Ten seconds.”
He looked at me then, with a steadiness that let all of the anxiety fizzle from my mind. Despite the darkness of the clouds I had made overhead, I could see the sureness in his eyes, the absolute confidence in my abilities. It was dizzying and reassuring all at once, to see his faith even after the three years we’d been together.
“I do,” he replied, short and simple yet there was so much more in his onyx eyes.
I gave him a smile, one of gratitude and love — trying to convey so much more in the split seconds we had left.
“Five seconds.”
“This better fucking work,” Degrensi muttered.
“It will,” I said, preparing for what was coming up. The wind rushed around me, whipping my hair out of my face. “Have confidence, sir.”
Before I could hear his response, I flipped off the turret, arching my back and twisting, diving towards the ground head first.
The momentum I had caused me to flip in midair and I started falling feet first, only to have Hinvyre sweep in from beneath me and catch me.
As soon as I gained purchase in the familiar seat, she changed course at breakneck speed, climbing up until we were at the same level as Xaden’s cloud of shadow, which enveloped the fliers surrounding the outpost.
She circled the shadow like a shark, growling, so low in her chest I could feel the vibrations from my seat.
One by one, dragons and their riders appeared, joining us until a ring of dragons in all shapes and colour was surrounding the unsuspecting fliers.
I found Sgaeyl easily, as she was the only blue in the circle.
I nodded towards her, conveying a message to her and her rider.
“Drop it.”
The shadows dissipated like snakes slithering away from the sight of a predator, until we were revealed to the fliers.
Their eyes widened, the sight of their opponents not only appearing out of nowhere but also surrounding them on all sides clearly not what they expected.
Their leader, their captain locked eyes with me, his lips parted in shock, the colour slowly draining from his face.
I gave him a smug grin. Checkmate, motherfucker.
Spurred on by a silent command from Sgaeyl, the dragons charged all at once.
Some dived, then ascended to attack from below. Some flew head on, breathing gusts of fire towards the griffons.
I willed the clouds to produce rain, coaxing drops of condensation to clump together and fall to give the water wielders something to wield.
Hinvyre ascended, flying to the turrets of the towers to protect them from getting breached.
She looked down upon the battle, like a gargoyle guarding its fortress and opened her jaw. A blaze of fire erupted from her mouth and I felt for it, grabbing its energy and sculpting it.
It had taken me far more time to master controlling dragon fire compared to regular fire. I could still feel the heat on my fingertips as if I were molding the flames with my bare hands.
The blaze moved in arches — separating into branches and wrapping around three griffins, singeing their feathers and forcing them to fly down into the battle the infantry soldiers waited patiently for on the ground.
Riders and their dragons dived and swerved in between the griffins, knocking them out of the sky and towards the ground below. They dropped like flies, one by one until there were none left.
“So far, so good,” I muttered as Hinvyre dipped towards the ground.
“Just checking, they’re not ours, are they?” I asked as I performed a running landing, unsheathing my sword as I slid down from her shoulder to her claw before jumping off and running onto the battlefield.
“Your mate confirms that this drift is not affiliated with the ones we have been aiding,” Hinvyre said as I sliced through a flier as I ran by.
“Good.” The roar of wind sounded in my ears as Sgaeyl glided past over my head, depositing Xaden just a few feet ahead.
The momentum from the running landing slipped away and I stopped right in front of him.
I looked him over, just in case and found no injuries on his body. I met his gaze just as he finished a similar assessment.
“Be safe,” he said, pressing a quick kiss to my hairline.
“You too,” I replied just as quickly before we separated, weaving through the fray into battle.
It was easier than expected to separate the fliers from the infantry as I cut through them quickly. Disabling each in less than a minute before moving onto the next one without hesitation. The sooner we get through this, the sooner I can go to fucking bed.
They fought with grit, I’ll give them that — they definitely trained more than us in hand-to-hand, although I doubt they spent half of their time worrying whether or not they’d survive to the next day at school.
I blocked, parried any blades I saw coming my way and struck at any unprotected part of the body I saw.
The last thing I saw was Xaden across the battlefield, tearing through flier after flier with blades of darkness. I could see his eyes grow wide with the one emotion that rarely ever crossed his face — fear — as the arrow pierced my back.
PSA to fic readers, it is so hard to freak a fic writer out with your comments. we are just as crazy about the fic as you are.
tell me you love it. tell me it made you slam your laptop shut. tell me you brought it up at your college lecture about kink. key smash in all caps. quote the passage that made you think. i promise, we’ll love it.
we spend hours thinking about it, writing it, editing it. there is no such thing as over enthusiasm when you’re talking about our fics to us. we are sooooo weird about them, i assure you. you are just matching my freak. the freak bar is already set so high. feel no anxiety about enjoying something and letting the creator know.
