Thank you for the best surprise this morning!! I absolutely LOVE the way you write Eris and his mate. Itâs just so good đ«đ„č
Girl I adore you actually đâ€ïž You are genuinely the best hype person a writer could ask for. Iâm so glad you loved Not Decoration because I was so nervous trying to make this Eris mate feel completely different from the tavern menace one đ„č
The Night Court assumes Eris Vanserraâs mate is nothing more than decoration at his side.
They learn very quickly that some females do not need to raise their voice to remind a room exactly where power sits.
Requested by @alexof90s â I hope this is close to what you were picturing! (Once again I didn't proof read this at all so feel free to let me know if there are any spelling errors!)
The first mistake the Night Court made was assuming you were decoration.
Not intentionally or obviously.
They were too polite for that.
But you saw it in the way their eyes moved over you when they entered the meeting room.
Briefly, if not dismissively.
A female beside Eris Vanserra.
Something ornamental, perhaps.
Something placed at his side to soften the image of Autumnâs new High Lord.
You did not correct them.
Eris noticed.
Of course he did.
The corner of his mouth shifted just barely.Â
You didnât look at him.
âTry not to look so pleased,â you murmured.
âI am not pleased.â
âYou are nearly smiling.â
âThat would be unbecoming.â
âThen by all means,â you said softly, folding your hands in your lap, âcontinue suffering.â
Across the table, Cassianâs brows rose.
Azrielâs shadows shifted once behind his shoulders.
Rhysand, to his credit, noticed the exchange for what it was.
A warning.
Mor noticed something else entirely.
Her gaze lingered on Eris with the same familiar disdain it always held.
Cold and sharp. Nothing if not practiced.
âYouâve redecorated,â she said, glancing around the council room. âHow charming. I almost forgot where we were.â
Eris did not respond.
He only looked down at the treaty papers in front of him.
You watched the movement.
The restraint it took him not to bite at her.
Rhysand cleared his throat.
âWeâre here to discuss the border villages.â
âThen let us discuss them,â Eris said.
His voice was smooth.
It always was in rooms like this.
The meeting began as most meetings did.
With maps and numbers. Along with men pretending history had not shaped every inch of land they were negotiating over.
Rhysand spoke well.
You would give him that.
Azriel said very little, but missed nothing.
Cassian shifted in his chair like diplomacy physically pained him.
And MorâŠ
Mor watched Eris like she was waiting for a monster to show its teeth.
You let it continue for twenty-three minutes.
Twenty-three minutes of clipped words. Quiet tension. Little glances that held nothing but daggers. Along with subtle jabs dressed up as moral certainty.
The last straw was when Mor finally said, âForgive me if I find Autumnâs sudden interest in protecting vulnerable people difficult to believe.â
Erisâs fingers stilled on the paper.
Only for a moment.
You gently set down your tea.
The cup barely made a sound against the saucer.
But somehow, the room noticed.
Morâs eyes flicked to you.
You smiled.
Not warmly. Not cruelly. Politely.
The sort of smile court ladies were taught to wear even if swallowing poison.
âDifficult to believe,â you repeated.
Mor lifted her chin.
âYes.â
âHow interesting.â
Cassian leaned back slightly.
Azrielâs shadows went still.
Eris did not move beside you.
He knew better.
Morâs gaze narrowed. âDo you have something to say?â
You tilted your head.
âI was deciding whether it would be rude.â
âAnd?â
âOh, itâs terribly rude Iâm afraid.â
Rhysandâs attention sharpened.
You turned your cup once, slow and deliberate, before looking back at Mor.
âBut since we are clearly past the point of pretending this room is governed by courtesy, I suppose I might as well.â
Eris exhaled once through his nose.
Almost amused.
You continued.
âYou speak of Autumnâs cruelty as though anyone at this table intends to dispute it. We do not. Autumn has teeth. It has always had teeth.â Your gaze swept briefly toward Eris. âSome of us have spent years removing them one by one.â
Morâs mouth tightened.
âBut what fascinates me,â you went on, voice still calm, âis the Night Courtâs remarkable talent for selective outrage.â
Cassian straightened.
Rhysandâs face went very still.
There it was.
The shift.
The moment they realized you were not decoration.
You smiled again.
Softer this time.
âYou condemn Autumn for what it allowed to happen beneath Beronâs rule. Fair. You should. But I do find it curious how rarely that same scrutiny turns inward.â
Morâs eyes flashed.
âCareful.â
You looked at her then.
Truly looked.
âI would advise caution, Morrigan,â you said softly. âNot because I fear what you might say, but because I know what you have chosen not to.â
The room went still.Â
You leaned back slightly in your chair.
âCareless would be asking why the Court of Dreams feels entitled to sneer at every cruel tradition in Prythian while still ruling over the Hewn City.â
Cassianâs jaw flexed.
Azriel said nothing.
Rhysand did not look away from you.
Good.
At least one of them understood where this was going.Â
Morâs voice was low. âYou know nothing about the Hewn City.â
âNo,â you agreed. âI know what survived the retelling.â
You tilted your head slightly before continuingÂ
âInteresting that you speak so confidently for someone whose version of events requires several omissions to survive.âÂ
Mor stood slowly.
âYou have no right to speak to me about what I survived.â
There it was.
The part you had been waiting for.
Your smile faded.
Not because you were afraid.
Because some things deserved seriousness.
âNo,â you said. âI do not.â
The room stilled.
Even Eris glanced at you then.
You met Morâs gaze without flinching.
âWhat was done to you was monstrous. No one in this room should deny that. I certainly will not.â Your voice lowered. âBut your pain does not make every omission holy.â
Mor went utterly still.
âYou have allowed them to believe one version of the story because it is easier than dragging the whole thing into the light,â you said. âAnd perhaps you had reason. Perhaps silence was all you had. I will not fault a girl for surviving the only way she could.â
A breath.
Then another.
âBut I will fault a court for building policy around half a truth and calling it justice.â
Rhysandâs eyes flicked, briefly, toward Eris.
Eris remained expressionless.
But his hand had shifted closer to yours on the table.
Not to stop you.
Not to guide you.
Just there.
Morâs voice was colder now.
âAnd what truth do you think you know?â
You folded your hands again.
âThe kind men leave out when the facts are inconvenient.â
A sad smile played on your lips.Â
âThe kind women bury because being believed costs too much.â
For the first time, Mor had no immediate response.
Good.
You had not wanted to hurt her.
Not really.
But you were very tired of watching Eris bleed quietly under everyone elseâs certainty.
âYou may hate my mate,â you said, and only then did your tone sharpen. âThat is your right. Hate him forever, if it comforts you.â
Erisâs gaze moved to you.
You did not look at him.
âBut do not sit in his court, at his table, beneath laws he bled to change, and pretend your hatred is the same thing as truth.â
Silence pressed against the walls.
Cassian looked between you and Mor, unusually quiet.
Azrielâs shadows curled close to his shoulders.
Rhysand leaned back slowly, expression unreadable.
You picked up your tea again.
It had gone cold.
Mor did not sit.
Not immediately.
Her face was pale with anger, but beneath it there was something else.
Something older. Something less certain.
Eris finally spoke. Calm and measured.
âMy mate raises a wonderful point.â
Rhysand looked at him.
Erisâs eyes did not leave Mor.
âDo you intend to discuss the border villages,â he said, âor continue mistaking personal history for governance?â
Your mouth twitched.
Only slightly.
Mor saw it.
Cassian definitely saw it.
Rhysand looked as though he was reevaluating several decisions at once.
Good.
That meant they were listening.
You took one careful sip of cold tea and set it back down.
âNow,â you said pleasantly, as though you hadnât just gutted the room and asked for the next topic. âShall we return to the villages, or would anyone else like to confuse emotion with policy first?â
YES!!! One dance was SO good and the ending? đ« PERFECT !!!! That was so perfect I literally canât do this. Thank you so much đ„č I hope we see Eris and her again from time to time. I love the way she terrorizes all the menđ§Ą
Iâm so glad you liked it!! đ§Ą Eris and his tavern menace are honestly way too fun to write, so I fear she will absolutely be returning whenever the men get too comfortable đ
First of all ? Warm enough to come back too? Destroyed me. PHENOMENAL WORK BABE.
Second of Iâm begging and pleaded for me of Wrong desk eris and his mate!! She was literally so good ! I need to see more of her in action if you ever decide to write more!!
Please add me to your tag list đ«¶đŒđ„č
You asked and you shall receive đ Hereâs a little more of Eris and his tavern menace of a mate. I had so much fun writing this one!
After the events of Wrong Desk ;), Rhysand has questions.
Unfortunately for him, Eris Vanserraâs mate has answers.
Even more unfortunately, she requires payment in the form of one very public dance.
Since apparently we all love Eris and his tavern menace of a mate, hereâs a little follow-up to Wrong Desk ;). Enjoy! (Also not proofread so please point out my spelling mistakes!)
After the last meeting with the Inner Circle of the Night Court one would think that you would have laid low.
Thatâs exactly what you didnât do.
No, to absolutely no oneâs surprise really, there were trades that needed to happen, medicine to move from one territory to another, and wrongs that needed righting.
Two weeks. Two weeks was all the time that had lapsed before the Inner Circle was back in Autumn for answers.
Eris was over it. The meeting, the questions, and the fact that you were supposed to be there but very conveniently had other âthingsâ to do.
What in the Cauldron that meant they had no idea.Â
âEris, are you even listening?âÂ
Eris looked at Rhysand.Â
âFor the last time Rhysand I have no idea how she got into your townhouse. I was with you the entire time if your memory needs a refresh.âÂ
Rhys pinched the bridge of his nose.Â
âWell where is she then?âÂ
âMy love please, respond I canât not with these Illyrian brutes any longer.âÂ
You giggled down the mate bond.Â
âTavernâÂ
That was all Eris got before you blocked him off.Â
Eris rolled his eyes. âFine sheâs at the Tavern.âÂ
Cassian scoffed. âSeriously, we asked you twice if thatâs where she was.âÂ
Eris only picked the nonexistant lint off his coat before looking at Cassian.Â
âMy mate does as she pleases, that includes when she decides to respond to me.âÂ
Az looked almost close to cracking a smile, while the other two shared the a look of annoyance.Â
The tavern was somehow louder than the last time theyâd visited.
Music spilling through the rafters.
Drunken laughter echoing off worn wood.
Someone losing a fight near the back wall.
Cassian stopped dead in the doorway.
There you were on the top of one of the tables with some of the barmaids, dancing.Â
If you were drunk they couldnât tell.Â
Eris only sighed and kept walking in.Â
Tugging on the bond to signal that he was there.Â
You caught Eris's eye, before seemingly disappearing again, only to pop up behind the four males once again.Â
âWell, well, well, missed me that much?âÂ
Eris only continued to walk to the bar along the side wall.Â
It was only once your small group made it to the bar top that he turned his attention to you.Â
âLove, you know exactly why Iâm here. Put us all out of our misery.âÂ
The look he was giving you was one that almost looked like pleading.Â
You smiled and hopped up on the bar top and faced Eris.Â
âAnd what is it that I get out of this dear mate?âÂ
The three males behind Eris didnât look impressed with your antics, if anything Rhys looked ready to pop at any moment. Azâs shadows were going all over the place and Cassian looked dumbfounded.Â
âA chance to have real trade routes in the Night Court.âÂ
You looked at Rhys who had answered.
Then slowly looked side to side dramatically.
Rhys narrowed his eyes.
ââŠwhat are you doing?â
âIâm trying to find where exactly I asked you what I get out of this.â
Cassian barked out a laugh loud enough to startle someone nearby.
Rhys looked deeply unimpressed.
âYou are actively exhausting.â
âAnd yet,â you sighed wistfully,
âyou continue seeking me out.â
Azrielâs shadows curled violently around him.
Trying not to laugh.
Again.
Eris finally stepped closer to the bar.
That familiar long-suffering expression settled across his face.
âMy love,â he said carefully,
âWhat exactly do you want?â
Your grin widened immediately.
âA dance.â
Dead silence.
Cassian physically doubled over.
Rhys looked horrified.
Azriel outright turned away.
Shoulders tightening suspiciously.
Eris stared at you.
âNo.â
âYes.â
âNo.â
You leaned forward slightly atop the bar.
âThen I suppose Rhys shall continue spiraling over his wards.â
Rhys pointed aggressively.
âI am NOT spiraling.â
âYou questioned three servants and a window latch,â Cassian said immediately.
âThat sounds like spiraling to me.â
Eris closed his eyes briefly.
Like he was reconsidering every life decision that had led him here.
You smiled sweetly.
âOne dance.â
ââŠyouâre enjoying this.â
âImmensely.â
The tavern music shifted then.
Something lively.
Fast.
You immediately brightened.
âOh this is perfect.â
Eris looked toward the ceiling like the Cauldron itself had betrayed him.
Then finally, finally, held out a hand.
Cassian nearly collapsed laughing.Â
âYouâve destroyed his reputation.â
âNo,â you corrected brightly as you jumped down from the bar.
âIâve improved it.â
Eris pulled you into the dance with far more skill than anyone expected.
Which honestly felt unfair.
âYou know,â you mused as he spun you cleanly through the crowded tavern,
âfor someone pretending to hate this youâre remarkably good at it.â
âI hate you specifically.â
You gasped.
Mock offended.
âThat is SUCH a lie.â
A small smile tugged at the corner of Erisâs mouth despite himself.
Tiny.
Brief.
You immediately pointed at him mid-spin.
âOh there it is.â
âDonât.â
âYou smiled.â
âI didnât.â
âYou did,â you sang.
Then leaned closer.
Lowering your voice conspiratorially.
âYouâre prettier when you smile.â
Eris nearly missed a step.
Cassians laughing could be heard from the bar.
Rhys looked one inconvenience away from death.
Azriel had fully given up pretending not to be entertained.
When the song ended, Eris and you had joined the three Illyrians back by the bar.Â
You finally took pity on them.
âOh relax,â you said, waving a dismissive hand.
âI didnât break your wards.â
Silence.
Rhys straightened immediately.
ââŠwhat.â
You blinked innocently.
âI handed the papers to Nuala.â
The entire group froze.
Azriel actually stared.
Cassian wheezed so hard he had to grab the bar.
Rhys looked deeply, deeply betrayed.
âYouâre telling me,â he said slowly,
âthat my weeks of security concernsâŠ.â
âWere caused by your own staff?â you finished helpfully.
You turned to look at him fully.Â
âYes. Yes they were.âÂ
Eris finally laughed.
Actually laughed.
Low and warm beside you.
And the tavern went quiet for half a second.
Because apparently the rarest thing in Prythian was Eris Vanserra openly amused.
The Night Court notices the changes in Autumn long before they notice the grief behind them.
Better protections. Safer villages. Softer laws.
Then Azriel discovers where Eris Vanserra goes every Friday at five oâclock.
Sorry if Eris is OOC in this one! My life has been way to chaotic honestly and, I needed to get it out somehow so now this exists. Also I did proof read this but I've gotten very little to no sleep the last few days, so apologies if this doesn't make and sense,. Enjoy!
It was Azriel who pointed it out.Â
Not that it was hard to see the way that Eris ran Autumn after Barron's death.Â
Better conditions for the working class, minorities and laws put in place to protect the women of the Autumn court.Â
It had been going on for years now.
Both the law changes and,
The way Eris leaves every Friday at exactly 5 pm.Â
No matter what.Â
It was on a flight back from Autumn on one of those Fridays that Azriel saw it.Â
Eris.Â
Alone.
Kneeling.
In a meadow.
Headstone in front of him.Â
Not this.
Az had expected secrets.
Political dealings.
Hidden lovers.
Something worthy of the male Eris Vanserra had always been.
As if the world had stopped with him.
The meadow was quiet.
Wildflowers swaying softly in the evening breeze.
Late sunlight catching copper strands of Erisâs hair as he knelt there unmoving.
Azriel stayed hidden within the tree line.
He should have left.
Instead he watched Eris reach forward with shaking hands to brush dying leaves from the base of the headstone.
âThe roses finally bloomed.â
Erisâs voice nearly vanished beneath the wind.
âYou were right about them.â
Minutes passed before Eris spoke again.
âI think you wouldâve liked what Autumnn looks like now.â
Azriel stepped back before returning to the Night Court.Â
Azriel said nothing as he landed at the House of Wind.Â
Not that he needed to say anything, Rhys could see the sorrow on his friend's face.Â
In the way his shadows moved about him.Â
âMay I see?âÂ
A request to enter Azs mind, one that was granted with the smallest nod of the head.Â
Rhys saw it.Â
All of it.Â
Eris
The headstone
The field kept alive.Â
Rhys took a step back as if the memory was a physical blow.Â
âEvery friday thatâs where he goes.âÂ
The information wasnât spoken of again, not out of fear of Eris but out of respect.Â
The inner circle had no idea whos grave that was.Â
Maybe it was a friends, maybe it was a general.Â
They didnât know.Â
The next meeting between the two courts was held within the Forest House.
Eris sat at the head of Autumnnâs table already looking exhausted.
Warm gold light.
Polished wood.
Fire crackling softly beneath layers of political tension.
Not visibly.
Not to anyone who didnât know what to look for.
But now they did.
Now Rhys noticed:
the slight shadows beneath his eyes
the untouched wine beside him
the way his fingers tapped once against the arm of his chair every few minutes
how often his gaze drifted toward the windows as evening approached
Five oâclock creeping closer.
Cassian noticed too.
That was the worst part.
Once seen, it could not be unseen.
And ErisâŠ
Eris remained perfectly composed beneath all of it.
Cold.
Sharp.
Controlled.
As if the male kneeling in the flowers had never existed at all.
âThe trade routes through Summer remain unstable,â Eris said smoothly.
Like his voice hadnât nearly disappeared in a meadow only a week prior.
Rhys answered automatically.
Mind elsewhere.
Because now every small thing felt wrong.
The untouched wine.
The exhaustion.
The clock.
Azriel stayed silent beside Rhys.Â
Watching.Â
Not Eris.Â
The clock.Â
4:37
Cassian shifted in his chair.Â
For once, he didnât interrupt Eris.Â
Didnât joke or poke at the male just to get a reaction.Â
Because suddenly the male across the table no longer felt untouchable.Â
He feltâŠ..Â
Tired.Â
âAutumnnâs eastern villages have already begun rebuilding along the river. The new laws regarding property inheritance should preventâ
They all heard it.Â
The way Eris paused when saying inheritance, only for half a breath but half a breath nonetheless.Â
âfurther displacement.âÂ
Erisâs gazed flicked towards the clock.Â
4:42.Â
The meeting continued.Â
Trade agreements, border negotiations, seasonal shipments, all finalized and ready to be signed off on by both High lords.Â
Through all of it Eris remained immaculate.Â
Until the servant entered.Â
âMy lord.âÂ
Eris didnât look up from the document in front of him. Simply hummed in acknowledgment for the man to continue.Â
The servant stepped forwards carefully.Â
Holding a small wooden box.Â
Azriel shadows shifted around him.Â
âYour usual order arrived from the western gardens.âÂ
Silence fell upon the room.Â
Eris stilled.
The servant placed the box beside him.
Bowed and left just as quickly as he had entered.Â
No one spoke. Not even when Eris opened the box.Â
Inside, freshly cut roses.Â
Cassian was the first to look away.Â
The room suddenly feeling to small, the situation to private.Â
Like none of the Inner Circle should be here.Â
Eris touched one of the petals on the roses before closing the box and looking to Rhys.Â
âContinue,â he said evenly.
Azriel looked toward the clock.
4:51.
Rhys finally understood.
The meetings were always scheduled early on Fridays.
Not for diplomacy.
Not for convenience.
So Eris could leave by five.
The realization hit like something physical.
Because this wasnât occasional grief.
Wasnât fresh mourning.
Wasnât temporary.
This was ritual.
Years of it.
Eris glanced toward the windows one last time.
Then stood smoothly.
No one moved immediately.
âIf thereâs nothing further,â he said calmly,
Azrielâs missing informant leads the Night Court straight to a tavern in Autumn.
Unfortunately for them, Eris Vanserraâs mate is not only the informant in question, but apparently running half of Prythian through back alley trades, coded deliveries, and sheer audacity.
Gathering in Autumn was risky.Â
Especially for Eris, who was currently looking at the 3 Illyiarn males across the table.Â
âSheâs been quiet.âÂ
Yes the informant that Azriel had in Autumn.Â
Eris knew Azriel had people in each court.Â
He did as well.Â
But accoring to the 3 males this informant in particular had been quiet for days.Â
Much like Erisâs own.Â
Thatâs when Eris speaks.
âI know someone who can us information.âÂ
Rhys glances at him.Â
âYou have a contact here?âÂ
Eris raises his eyebrow.Â
âIt is my court after all, my father might be high lord but, loyalty doesnât always sit with the current Lords.âÂ
Rhys nods.Â
âTheyâre reliable as well. Usually.âÂ
Cassian huffs.Â
âThat doesnât sound promising.â
Eris almost smiles.Â
Before pushing up and out of his chair.Â
Turning to Azriel.Â
âI assume you know where the tavern is?âÂ
Azriel nods before the four men winnow out.Â
The tavern is loud.
Messy.
Alive.
And wrong.Â
Azriel feels it first.
His shadows slip out.Â
Like theyâve found something.
And lost it again.
Eris scans the room.
Once.
Twice.
âShe should be here.â
Azrielâs head tilts.
âShe.â
âMy contact.â
The tavern owner spots them.
And waves them over.Â
âHavenât seen your girl in days.â
Cassian blinks.
âHis what?â
Eris doesnât react.
âHow long.â
âThree. Maybe four.â
Too long.
Azrielâs shadows visibly tighten.Â
Eris only nodds and closes his eyes.
When he feels it the tug in his chest.Â
His gaze flicks upward
At the same moment Azrielâs shadows surge.
âThere,â Azriel says.
Movement.
Up the wall.
Fluid and effortless.
She drops onto the bar.
Grinning.
Already mid-trade.
âPleasure doinâ business.â
The female looks up and makes eye contact with each male, before hoping down from the bar top.Â
âWell,â she says, bright,
âThis is convenient.â
Gone.
Cassian blinks.
Hands cover Erisâs eyes.
âGuess who.â
Eris doesnât move.
âRemove your hands.â
You laugh.
Lean in and press a quick kiss to his cheek.
âMissed you too.â
You step around him.
Like youâve always been there.
Azriel steps forward.
âYouâve been quiet for daysâŠ.â
You nod and turn to face the shadowsinger.Â
âI was busy is all.âÂ
Rhys blinks at you, before recognition crosses his face.Â
Your Azriels contact heâs seen you in Valaris from time to time.Â
âHow do you know Eris.âÂ
The question comes from Cassian.Â
You pause.
Look at him.
Then Eris.
And light up.
âOh,â you say.
âOh this is fun.â
You hop up onto the table behind you.Â
Boot hitting a glass.
You donât notice.
You lean forward
boop.
Right to Erisâs nose.
âWhat,â you say, mock offense,
âfifty years and you say nothing?â
Cassian chokes.
Eris pinches the bridge of his nose.
âWe agreed,â he says, controlled,
âto wait until it was necessary.â
You grin.
âNah.â
Cassian laughs.
âYou mentioned that,â you add.
âI never agreed, good try though, hun.â
You start pulling things from your pockets, muttering as you pull out each item.Â
A ring.
âGuard. Wrongfully taken.â
A pouch.
âOvertaxed.â
You pause.
Tilt your head, and whistle.
Someone moves across the tavern.
Cassian leans in.
ââŠno way.â
You donât turn.
Just hold your hand out.
âSummer. Tuesday. Noon. You know where.â
They nod.
âYeah. Medicine.â
The trade happens so quickly.
They leave.
You watch them go.
âMedicine,â you echo.
A beat.
âSuuure.â
You turn back.
Already reaching into another pocket.
âAs I was sayingâ
You pull out a folded parchment.
Flicking it toward Rhys without looking.Â
âSpring Court.â
He unfolds it.
ââŠwhen did you get this?â
âGot it last week,â you mumble.Â
Like you maybe shouldnât have said that like that.
ââŠwas going to drop it off.â
A small shrug.
âGot distracted.â
Azrielâs shadows go still.
âYou went into the Spring Court.â
You glance at the shadowsinger.
âMm.â
Cassian lets out a disbelieving laugh.
âSheâs efficient,â Eris says flatly.
You glance at him.
The corner of your mouth twitches.
Just slightly.
Eris pinches the bridge of his nose again.
âYou were meant to wait.â
You hop down.
Walk up to him.
âYou needed it. I saw the paper work in your office.â
You wait just a beat, before continuing.Â
âYouâre welcome.â
Azriel steps forward.
âSo youâre working for both courts.â
You look at him.
Really look.
Then laugh.
âCuldron no, I do what I please.â
Silence settles around the table.Â
âAnd if my loyaltyâs in questionâ
Your gaze flicks to Eris.
Your mouth moves before you think too hard about it
âI love to disappoint you.â
You smile slightly looking at each male, before settling on Eris.
âMy loyalty is with my mate.â
Silence.
They all exhale.Â
You blink once after saying it.
Like maybe you hadnât meant to say it out loud quite like that.
But you donât take it back.
Cassian looks at Rhys.Â
ââŠI think she might be the most terrifying person in this tavern.â
âIncorrect,â you say immediately.
You point lazily toward the bartender.
âThat male waters down his liquor.â
Before they could question you anymore another whistle goes out in the tavern.Â
You perk up a bit before turning and looking up at the second floor, and nod.Â
âWell gentleman, I have trading to do.âÂ
Just like that your moving quick, and swift.Â
Itâs not even 10 seconds later that they can see you and another patron exchanging words and goods above them.Â
Eris huffs.Â
âWell at least we know where our contact went.âÂ
They turn and leave the tavern, heading back to the palace that houses the Autumn courts high lord.Â
Dinner in the Autumnn Court is⊠polished.
Controlled.
Every movement is measured.
Every word weighed.
Which is why when you walk in it throws the entire room off.
No longer in the leather and boots from the tavern.Â
A dress of Autumn tones. Elegant, and effortless.Â
Two of the smokehounds at your sides.Â
Cassian chokes on his drink.
ââŠthatâs the same person?â he mutters.
Azriel doesnât answer.
Heâs watching you.
Rhys is too.
But differently.
Calculating.
Eris doesnât look surprised.
Of course he doesnât.
âYouâre late,â he says.
You smile.
âI was busy.â
A glance passes between you and eris, just long enough to be anything more than casual.Â
The other heirs of Autumnns thrown sit at the table.Â
Being told that Barron was in Summer, and that Eris was handling the treaty with the Nightcourt.Â
You float from brother to brother on your way to your seat.Â
Eris tracking your movements the whole way.Â
Light conversation.
Easy smiles.
A hand on a shoulder here.
A quiet laugh there.
No one questions it.
Why would they?
You look like you belong.
One of them frowns before turning to you.Â
âStrangest thing,â he mutters.
âI had a vial earlier.â
Another scoffs.
âYou lose everything.â
You tilt your head slightly, before taking your seat at the table.
âOh?â you ask softly.
âWhat kind of vial?â
He shrugs.
âNothing important.â
You smile, one that almost shows concern.
âThen Iâm sure itâll turn up.â
You move on before he can think too hard about it.
Cassian is staring now.
Really staring.
ââŠsheâs doing something.â Itâs muttered low enough that only Rhys and Azriel hear it.Â
Azrielâs shadows drift lazily after you.
Watching.
Tracking.
Rhys notices the pattern second.
Each brother you speak to something shifts.
A weight added.
A weight removed.
And none of them notice.
Not one.
The youngest brother at the table leans back in his chair.
âIâm heading into town after dinner,â he says casually.
I have way too many ideas right now and I canât decide what to write next đ
help me pick!!
(Iâll probably end up writing all of them eventually đ)
Now Xaden Riorson wonât leave you alone, your dragon is playing matchmaker, and everything is getting way more complicated than it should be.
Part One Here
Part 3 Here
A shortcut. Thatâs what you were told. This is very clearly not a shortcut.
Trying to get from one side of Basgiath to the other should have been easy, but the path youâre on is so long and winding it might as well take you across the entire continent.
By the time you reach the end of the tunnel, you nearly sag in relief. Finally,
You push the door open and light floods your vision. You squint, blinking rapidly. âDidnât think it was that bright in the dorms, but okay,â you mutter under your breath as you step inside, pushing the door shut behind you. You give your eyes a second to adjust, then take another step forward.
Only to walk straight into something solid.
You freeze.
That is not a wall. Walls are not warm. And they are definitely not scaled.
Slowly, very slowly, you tilt your head up just enough to catch a glimpse of piercing yellow eyes. Your stomach drops.
Not the healersâ dorms.
Right. Mira said something about this. Donât look them in the eyes.
You drop your gaze immediately. âSorry about that,â you say, like you just bumped into someone in a hallway.
You step around the dragon carefully, giving it space as you move past. If it decides to torch you, honestly? That would be fair.
You keep walking. Donât run. Running feels like a bad idea.
Itâs only when you hear another dragon somewhere off to your left that it clicks.
Threshing.
You just walked into the middle of threshing.
âGreat,â you mutter. Just fantastic.
No time to panic. Just time to leave.
You pick a direction and keep moving, hoping thereâs another exit somewhere that does not involve dragons.
After what feels like far too long, at least half an hour, you come across a small clearing. Mostly flat, rocks scattered across the ground.
And thatâs not a rock.
You move closer, faster now.
Itâs a boy.
Heâs on his side, barely moving, a deep gash carved across his hip.
You drop to your knees beside him immediately. âHey, hey, can you hear me?â
No response.
You donât wait.
You tear the sleeves from your uniform and press them hard against the wound, applying pressure. The fabric soaks through almost instantly, so you fold it over and press harder.
The boy groans.
You let out a breath you didnât realize you were holding. âOkay. Okay, thatâs good. Stay with me.â
Alive. Maybe not for long but alive.
You keep pressure on the wound until the bleeding finally starts to slow. Your mind races as you glance around, trying to orient yourself.
Think.
There has to be a way back. There has to be.
You look upÂ
and freeze.
Dragons.
Dozens of them.
The flight field.
Help would be there.
You look back down at the boy, then toward the edge of the clearing. Itâs a drop. A steep one.
You could maybe climb it.
Maybe.
But not with him. Not like this.
You swallow.
Youâre not making it back without help.
You glance back toward the sky.
A dragon.
âIt would be unwise to try and move him.â
You jump, head snapping up as you scan the clearing. Nothing. No one. Your heart starts to pound.
âOkay⊠dehydration,â you mutter under your breath. âThatâs the only logical answer.â
Silence.
Then the voice returns.
âIt is always amusing what you humans think when being bonded for the first time.â
You freeze.
Nope. Absolutely not. You are not hearing voices. You have officially lost it.
âCool,â you whisper. âThatâs fine. Thatâs great, actually.â
A heavy thud sounds behind you.
That is new.
You turn slowly.
There is a shadow large, massive.
A dragon.
On the ground. Behind you. In front of you. Everywhere, really.
You tilt your head up and meet those same piercing yellow eyes from earlier.
âYou again,â you breathe.
You hadnât noticed the color before. Too busy not getting burned alive.
Blue.
Of course itâs blue.
âCould you⊠move him?â you ask, gesturing toward the boy, not entirely convinced this is real.
No. He is not worthy of a dragon.
Your shoulders slump a little. âYeah,â you murmur. âThat tracks.â
Do not feel pity, young one. He is not worthy, but if you make it to the flight fieldâŠ
Your eyes widen. âCould you get me to the flight field?â
The dragon huffs not annoyed, just unimpressed.
Can you hold on long enough?
You glance at the boy, then back at the dragon. âNo idea,â you admit.
Then you stand anyway.
Because there isnât another option.
You secure the makeshift bandage as best you can, then move toward the dragon. Climbing is easier than it should be. Thereâs a place near its neck almost like a seat.
You pause. âWell,â you say, slightly breathless, âthis feels important.â
Then you blink. âOh. Right. That was rude.â
You steady yourself. âIâm Y/N. Y/N Sorrengail.â
I am aware of your name, young one.
âCool,â you mutter. âGreat. Love that.â
You brace yourself just as the dragon launches into the air.
The ground disappears.
Your stomach does not come with you.
Your grip tightens instantly.
And thatâs when it hits you.
Bonded.
âBealith.â
You blink. âWhat?â
There is no need to yell. I can hear your thoughts.
A pause. Calm. Measured.
I will say this once more. Bealith is my full name. You will give it to the scribe once we reach the flight field.
Your brain is barely keeping up. âI⊠okay. Yeah. Got it. Bealith.â
A beat.
âI think I like Bea better.â
You feel the irritation. If a dragon could roll its eyes, this one just did.
Without warning, Bealith drops.
Fast. Very fast.
Your stomach absolutely does not come with you.
âOkay, nope. Donât like that.â
Then the ground rushes back up.
The flight field.
Dragons everywhere.
Before Bealith even fully lands, youâre already sliding down its front leg. âThank you. Appreciate you. Donât kill me later.â
You hit the ground running, straight for the healerâs tent.
You spot Professor Kaori and immediately freeze.
Right. Healers are not supposed to be here.
Too late.
Heâs already looking at you, eyes wide. âYou are not supposed to be on the flight field, and what happened to â
âBoy,â you cut in, breathless. âThreshing. Hip wound. Wonât make it.â
The words tumble out between gasps.
Another healer grabs your arm, guiding you down into a seat, pressing water into your hands.
You barely notice. Your chest is still heaving.
âAs for me being hereâŠâ
You lift a hand and point your thumb behind you.
Toward the massive blue dragon.
âDragon.â
The word barely leaves your mouth before the energy on the flight field shifts.
Itâs subtle but itâs there.
Heads turn. Even the dragons seem to still, just slightly.
Professor Kaori follows the direction of your thumb.
And then he freezes.
Not completely, but enough. Enough that the healer beside you goes still too.
ââŠyou bonded.â
Itâs not a question.
You blink up at him. âYeah, I think so.â
A shadow falls over you.
You donât have to turn to know who it is.
But you do anyway.
Xaden Riorson.
Heâs already looking at you, not confused, not surprised. Just focused. Like heâs trying to figure something out and not liking the answers.
His gaze flicks past you, to Bealith, then back.
âYou,â he says. âStay seated.â
You donât move mostly because youâre still trying to catch your breath, but also because something in his tone says that moving would be a bad idea.
Riders start to gather near the edge of the field. Whispers start. All of them looking at you.
Another dragon lands somewhere behind Bealith, but no one looks away.
Because now this is the problem.
A healer.
On the flight field.
Bonded.
Professor Kaori exhales slowly before turning and heading toward General Sorrengail.
Xadenâs eyes flick back to you. âYou just canât help yourself, can you?â
And there it is.
You blink. âI â
âYou crossed the parapet.â He takes a step closer. âThen the gauntlet.â Another step. âAnd now threshing.â
He stops in front of you, close enough that you have to tilt your head up to meet his gaze.
âI told you to stay away from threshing.â
Thereâs no heat in his voice.
Thatâs what makes it worse.
You swallow. âI didnât mean to.â
That sounds weak even to you.
âI got lost,â you add quickly. âThere was a tunnel, and I thought it was a shortcut, and then there was a door, and then there was a dragon, then there was a boy and he was bleeding and â
You stop.
Because youâre rambling.
And because heâs staring at you.
Not interrupting.
Not mocking.
Just⊠watching.
You take a breath. âHe was going to die.â
That lands.
Something shifts in his expression, small, almost unnoticeable, but itâs there.
âAnd the dragon?â he asks, quieter now.
You glance over your shoulder.
Bealith is still there. Watching. Very aware.
âHe said the boy wasnât worthy,â you answer honestly. âBut heâd help me if I made it to the flight field.â
A pause.
Then, softerÂ
âAnd then he⊠didnât leave.â
I did not ânot leave.â
You are mine.
You blink.
ââŠright,â you mutter under your breath.
Xadenâs jaw tightens.
Of course he didnât.
Sgaeylâs presence brushes against his mind.
You told her not to come here.
He ignores her.
âYou understand,â he says, looking back at you, âthat this changes things.â
You blink. âI figured that part out when I got launched into the air.â
A few riders nearby choke back laughs.
Xaden does not.
âYouâre not a rider,â he continued, not unkind, just stating facts. âYou werenât trained for this.â
You lift a brow slightly. âI did the gauntlet.â
He exhales sharply through his nose. âThat doesnât count.â
âI didnât fall.â
âThat doesnât make it better.â
âIt kind of does.â
Thereâs a beat of silence.
Then something shifts again.
Not gone, the irritation is still there but itâs⊠different now. Less sharp. More focused.
Like heâs recalculating.
âYou bonded a blue dragon,â he says finally. âThat doesnât happen by accident.â
You open your mouth. ââŠI mean.â
You gesture vaguely. âI walked into a door.â
Someone behind him actually laughs this time.
Xaden doesnât turn. Doesnât acknowledge it.
His eyes stay on you.
âYouâre going to be watched,â he says. âClosely.â
You nod slowly. âOkay.â
âAnd if you get yourself killed,â he adds, voice dropping just slightly, âIâm not explaining this to your sister.â
That almost sounded like concern.
Almost.
You tilt your head. âI thought you said I wouldnât last two days.â
His expression doesnât change.
âWeâll see if you survive tomorrow then.â
After he walks away, you make your way over to the scribe.
Your mother stands beside them, glare already locked on you.
Impressive, honestly.
You give the scribe your name, then Bealithâs. They write it down quickly, but you can feel the weight of your motherâs stare the entire time.
You do not look at her.
Not even once.
The second youâre done, you turn and head back to the dragon.
Your dragon.
That feels strange.
âYou do know Iâm not a rider, correct?â
That feels important to say out loud.
That fact is not something I care about, young one.
You open your mouth to argue because that feels like something worth arguing about but before you can get a word out, Bealith shifts suddenly.
One second youâre standing there, the next youâre being nudged out of the way by his talons.
You stumble, catching yourself.
âWhat was that for â
You look up.
And stop.
That is the largest dragon you have ever seen. Possibly the largest dragon in existence.
Your brain struggles to process the size of it.
âHe is,â Bealithâs voice cuts in calmly. âKoda is the only one who rivals him in size.â
You nod automatically, even though he probably canât see you.
Then you see whoâs on his back.
Your breath catches.
âViolet?â
It comes out as a whisper.
Then youâre moving.
You donât think you just sprint.
She barely has time to hit the ground before youâre wrapping your arms around her, pulling her into a tight hug.
Alive.
Sheâs alive.
You pull back just enough to look at her.
Her brows furrow immediately.
âWhy. Are you. On the flight field.â
Each word is sharp. Measured. Sheâs already scanning the area like someoneâs about to drag you off.
âDragon,â you answer simply. âLong story.â
âBut you need to check in. Then go to the healerâs tent.â
She stares at you for half a second longer, then nods and does exactly that.
You watch her go, just to make sure.
Then you turn back.
And promptly sit down, leaning your back against Bealithâs front leg.
Itâs warm. Solid.
Comforting, in a strange way.
I am not a chair, young one.
You laugh softly. âI donât see you moving. And Iâm exhausted anyway. Itâs been a day.â
If you are this tired after one day, then perhaps the wing leader is correct and you will not make it to tomorrow.
You lean forward, craning your neck to look up at him, rolling your eyes.
âI canât believe you would side with Xaden of all people.â
Silence.
You narrow your eyes slightly. âWow. Betrayal.â
Still nothing.
A few minutes pass. The field starts to shift again, energy building, tension rising.
Then dragons begin launching into the air, one after another.
You barely have time to react before Bealith moves.
You lean forward quickly, trying not to get scraped as his body shiftsÂ
and then he takes off.
After the dragons return and announce that not only will Violet be allowed to keep both dragons, but that you are allowed to keep yours as wellÂ
chaos ensues.
Riders shout. Leadership whispers.
All because you thought you found a shortcut.
Why canât I do anything right?
The thought hits harder than anything physical could.
Bealithâs head tilts slightly.
âDragons do not make mistakes. I choose you. That is final.â
You nod.
It doesnât fully settle the feeling but it helps.
A little.
Then you turn and head toward your new room.
Gods.
What are you supposed to tell Sofie and Cortland?
The three of you were supposed to stick together.
The following weeks are rough.
Battle brief. Flying lessons. Sparring matches.
Avoiding Xaden.
The only consistent problem is Xaden.
Youâre sitting in battle brief, staring at the board but not really seeing it whenÂ
âIf you do not pay attention, you will get us both killed.â
You roll your eyes. âI am paying attention.â
âThinking about the wing leader is not paying attention. Focus.â
You shake your head slightly, catching Violetâs attention.
You tap your temple.
She gets it immediately.
Of course she does.
She scribbles something down and slides the note to you.
Is everything alright?
You smile faintly, writing back.
Dragons apparently know everything we think. It is incredibly annoying.
She huffs quietly, amused, before both of you turn your attention back to the front.
Later that night, you find yourself sprawled across Rhiannonâs bed with her and Violet.
Youâre halfway through a drink when Rhi turns toward you. âSo how much longer are you going to play cat and mouse with Riorson?â
You choke. Actually choke. Water goes down the wrong pipe and you sit up quickly, coughing.
âI have no idea what youâre talking about.â
Violet gives you a look.
The look.
The one that says she knows you better than you know yourself.
âIâve known you my whole life,â she says. âYou have never avoided someone the way you avoid him.â
You try to ignore the heat creeping up your neck. âHeâs brooding. And shadowy. Definitely not my type.â
âAnd I canât tell if he wants me dead or if heâs trying to run me out of the quadrant.â
Rhi laughs. âThat is not the look he gives you.â
You blink between them. âWhat look?â
Violet leans in slightly, lowering her voice. âIf you havenât seen it, youâre missing out.â
She leans back like that answers anything.
It does not.
âI would kill,â she adds casually, âto have someone track my every movement the way he tracks yours.â
You stare at her. âHe does not.â
âHe walked you to the healerâs wing after sparring,â Rhi cuts in. âXaden Riorson. Willingly.â
You open your mouthÂ
âOr,â she continues, âthe time your dragon dropped you in the lake and he just happened to be there.â
âThat doesnât count,â you argue. âHe was already there.â
You push yourself up on your elbows. âI do not control where Bealith drops me. We are supposed to be doing basic maneuvers and he insists on âreal movement.â That is not my fault.â
They both just stare at you.
Like youâve completely missed something obvious.
Which you probably have.
Outside the door, the hallway is quiet.
Mostly.
Xaden had not meant to stop. Had not meant to listen.
But your voice he recognizes it instantly.
Then he hears his own name.
And he stills.
ââŠdefinitely not my type.â
That should be enough. Should be the end of it.
He should walk away.
He doesnât.
âI canât tell if he wants me deadâŠâ
His jaw tightens.
ââŠor if heâs trying to run me out of the quadrant.â
That lands harder than it should.
Sgaeyl hums quietly in the back of his mind.
Amused.
He ignores her.
âI would kill to have someone track my every movement the way he tracks yours.â
Silence follows.
Then your voiceÂ
âHe does not.â
Xaden exhales slowly.
He does.
More than he should. More than is necessary. More than is smart.
ââŠdefinitely not my type.â
The words echo.
He should leave.
Instead, he shifts slightly just enough to hear the rest.
The lake. The healerâs wing. All the moments he hadnât thought twice about.
Apparently not as subtle as he thought.
He leans back against the wall, staring at nothing.
Then closes his eyes briefly.
ââŠdamn it.â
Sgaeylâs amusement spikes.
He ignores that too.
Because the problem is not that you noticed him.
The problem is you didnât.
Not the way he wanted.
Not the way heâs starting to realize he wants.
And that is new.
The training rings are loud metal, boots, grunts.
Youâre currently regretting every life decision that led you here.
Imogen circles slowly. Violet stands across from you, rolling her shoulders.
âThis was your idea,â Violet says.
You nod once. âI know. I hate it.â
Imogen snorts. âFocus.â
Right.
Focus.
You shift your stance, adjusting your footing.
Bealith is quiet for once.
Which is suspicious.
âAgain,â Imogen says.
Violet moves first. Fast.
You react on instinct, stepping in instead of back.
Your fist connects.
Solid.
Too solid.
Thereâs a sharp crack.
Everything stops.
Violet blinks.
Then thereâs blood.
âOh no.â
You freeze. âOh no, no, noâ
âIâm fine,â Violet says immediately, though her voice is slightly off.
Her nose is definitely not straight.
âI broke your nose.â
âYou did,â Imogen confirms, far too calm about it.
âOkay, hold on, donât move,â you say quickly, stepping closer.
Your hands come up instinctively, cupping Violetâs face gently. âDo not move,â you repeat, softer now.
You close your eyes for half a second.
Think.
Thereâs swelling. She needs pressure.
You need something to reduce it.
Your fingers tighten slightly.
Thereâs a shift.
Something cool brushes your palm.
You blink.
Look down.
An aloe leaf.
Fresh. Cleanly cut.
You stare at it.
ââŠokay.â
That is new.
âBea?â
Silence.
âUnhelpful.â
Imogen leans in slightly. âWhat did you just do?â
âI donât â you stop, not trusting it. âI think I⊠needed it.â
That sounds ridiculous out loud.
You press the aloe gently against Violetâs nose.
She hisses slightly. âSorry.â
âItâs fine,â she mutters. âKeep going.â
You adjust your hold, more careful now.
The swelling already looks like itâs starting to slow.
That shouldnât be happening that fast.
âYouâre going to the healers after this,â you tell her.
âThat was already the plan.â
From the edge of the ring, Xaden watches.
He had not planned to stop. Had not planned to stay.
But then you stepped into the ring.
And that was the end of that.
He watches the hit. The crack. The immediate shift in your expression.
No panic.
Just action.
You move without hesitation, hands steady, voice calm.
And then the leaf.
He sees it appear.
Sgaeyl goes still in his mind.
Xadenâs gaze sharpens.
You donât react like itâs power.
You react like itâs a tool.
Like this is normal.
Like youâve always done it.
âThat is not a standard healer ability,â Garrick mutters behind him.
No.
It isnât.
His jaw tightens slightly.
Later, battle brief is quiet.
Too quiet.
Youâre writing.
Or trying to.
Your quill slips from your fingers, clattering to the floor.
You stare at it for a second, debating if itâs worth the effort of bending down.
It is not.
Before you can moveÂ
It lifts.
Just slightly.
Then settles back onto your desk.
Right in front of you.
You blink and look around.
No one is looking at you.
ExceptâŠ
You glance across the room.
Xaden is already looking away.
Like he wasnât just watching.
You look back at the quill.
ââŠokay.â
You pick it up slowly.
âThatâs not normal,â you whisper under your breath.
âNothing about this place is normal,â Bealith replies.
Fair.
You glance back toward Xaden.
He hasnât moved.
Hasnât looked at you again.
So probably nothing.
Right.
Xaden doesnât look at you again, not directly.
But his shadows linger.
Just slightly closer than they should.
And when your quill slips again laterÂ
it doesnât hit the floor.
The second year is bigger than you.
Sparing days are, by far, your most unlucky days.
The boy lunges.
You move but too slow this time.
His arm hooks around your neck, locking you in place.
Tight.
You grab at his forearm, trying to pull free.
It doesnât work.
âTap out,â he mutters.
âNot happening.â
Your voice comes out strained.
Air is becoming a problem.
Think.
You shift your weight, bringing your hand up blindly.
Your fingers find his face.
His nose.
You shove hard.
He jerks back slightly.
Just enough space.
You inhale sharplyÂ
and think.
Pain. Distraction. Something that will make him let go.
Something blooms in your hand.
You donât question it.
You shove it straight into his face.
âHey what the hell â
He lets go immediately, coughing, stumbling back as he tries to wipe it away.
You drop to your knees, dragging in air.
âDo not,â you start, voice rough, âtouch your face â
Too late.
He blinks rapidly.
Unsteady.
âWhat did you â
He sways.
Then drops.
The entire ring goes quiet.
You stare at him.
ââŠokay.â
That might be bad.
Imogen steps forward immediately, crouching beside him. âWhat did you do?â
âI donât know,â you say quickly. âI mean, I do but I donât â
âYou grew that.â
You look down at your hand.
The plant is still there.
There in your palm is a small, white flower.
ââŠyeah.â
âThatâs not normal,â someone says from the edge of the ring.
âNo,â Imogen agrees. âItâs not.â
Footsteps cut through the silence.
Professor Kaori.
He takes in the scene the downed cadet, the plant, you.
âExplain.â
You swallow.
âHe had me in a chokehold,â you say. âI couldnât breathe. I needed him to let go.â
âWell,â you say quietly, âthat sounds official.â
After that, it becomes obvious.
Thereâs no hiding it anymore.
Plants show up when you need them. A salve leaf when someoneâs burned. A binding vine when someone wonât stay still. A sedative bloom when pain gets too sharp.
People start noticing.
Watching.
Giving you just a little more space than before.
You notice other things too.
A book appears on your desk one morning, thick and worn, full of botanical diagrams and poison properties.
You stare at it. ââŠI did not bring this.â
âI did not either,â Bealith replies.
âIf you could fit in my room, Iâd treat you like a pet.â
You glance around.
No one is paying attention.
You open it anyway.
Shadows linger more now.
You tell yourself itâs normal.
This place is full of strange things. Dragons. Signets. People who can kill you without blinking.
So shadows following you down the hall?
Probably fine.
It is not fine.
Night settles over the quadrant.
You slip out quietly.
You know the path now, the one that leads to the flight field.
Sofie and Cortland are already there when you arrive.
âYouâre late,â Sofie whispers.
âI got distracted.â
âYou always get distracted,â Cortland mutters.
âThatâs not true.â
It is.
A low rumble draws their attention.
Bealith lands a moment later, wings folding neatly at his sides.
Sofie freezes.
Cortland goes completely still.
âThatâsâ
âYep,â you say. âThatâs him.â
Bealith lowers his head slightly, studying them.
âThey are small,â he comments.
âPlease do not say that out loud,â you whisper.
âI am not speaking out loud.â
âStill counts.â
Sofie takes a hesitant step forward. ââŠheâs huge.â
âIâve been told,â you reply.
From the shadows at the edge of the field, Xaden watches.
Of course you snuck out.
He tells himself heâs here to make sure you donât do something stupid.
Thatâs all.
Nothing else.
âFollowing her now?â
Violetâs voice cuts in beside him.
He doesnât flinch. âIâm not following her.â
âYou are literally hiding in the shadows watching her.â
âIâm observing.â
Violet snorts. âRight. Observing.â
She crosses her arms, watching you laugh with your friends.
âYou know,â she says casually, âsheâs not going to figure it out.â
Xaden doesnât look at her. âThereâs nothing to figure out.â
âOh please.â
She gestures toward you. âYou track her like sheâs the only thing in the room.â
âI donât.â
âYou do, and yet she thinks youâre trying to kill her.â
âShe avoids you,â Violet continues. âNot because sheâs scared. Because she thinks you donât like her.â
Xaden exhales slowly. âThatâs not my problem.â
Violet turns to him fully now. âYes, it is.â
Silence.
âYou might be subtle,â she adds, âbut sheâs oblivious.â
âIâm not being subtle.â
Violet laughs. âExactly my point.â
They sit in silence for a moment before she continues, âIf you donât tell her, sheâs not going to see it.â
Xadenâs gaze drifts back to you.
Youâre smiling.
ââŠIâm not telling her anything.â
Violet just hums. âSure.â
Then she turns, heading back toward Tairn.
âYouâre not as slick as you think you are.â
Xaden stays where he is.
Because for the first time, this isnât just curiosity anymore.
It started as a stupid comment to your dragon, that comment now becoming a full on argument on the flight field.
âYou are wrong.â
You donât even look up from where youâre sitting on the ground, pulling small rocks out of Beaâs talons.
Bea, unlike Tairn, doesnât mind being fussed over. At least, according to Violet. Tairn hates the checks you are supposed to do.
âIâm not.â
âYou are.â
âIâm not.â
Bealith huffs behind you. Low. Annoyed.
âYou continue to insist on being incorrect.â
You finally turn, glaring up at him.
âHe does not like me.â
âHe watches you constantly.â
âHe watches everyone.â
âHe does not follow everyone into hallways when they drop things.â
You pause.
ââŠthat happened once.â
âIt has happened more than once.â
You narrow your eyes.
âThat proves nothing.â
Bealith goes quiet for a moment.
Thinking.
Which is never a good sign.
âVery well,â he says finally. âWe will make this interesting.â
You immediately regret everything.
âNo.â
âYes.â
âNo.â
âIf I am correct, I will choose the next training exercise.â
You freeze.
ââŠyou always choose the worst ones.â
âCorrect.â
âAnd if youâre wrong?â
He tilts his head slightly.
âThen we will fly with the group.â
You blink.
ThatâsâŠ
actually reasonable.
Suspiciously reasonable.
âYouâre that confident?â
âYes.â
You sit there for a second, thinking it through.
There is no way.
No possible way.
ââŠfine.â
His satisfaction is immediate.
âGo on, then,â he says.
You hesitate.
âNow?â
âYes.â
You stare at him.
Then groan quietly.
âFine.â
Sgaeyl is insufferable.
Xaden knows this.
He has always known this.
But lately it has become a problem.
Bealith and I have a running bet.
He doesnât respond.
Doesnât even acknowledge it.
That usually works.
Not today.
You will go find the young one and help us settle it.
His jaw tightens.
âNo.â
He says it out loud.
Because maybe that will make it more final.
It doesnât.
You will.
âIâm not doing this.â
You are.
Silence stretches.
He focuses on the courtyard below.
Cadets moving through their routines.
Predictable.
Manageable.
Unlike this.
You have been avoiding it.
That gets his attention.
Barely.
âI havenât been avoiding anything.â
You have been circling it.
His eyes narrow slightly.
âI donât circle.â
Sgaeyl hums.
You watch her.
He doesnât deny it.
Thereâs no point.
You follow her.
âI observe.â
You intervene.
He exhales slowly.
Through his nose.
âThat is strategic.â
You are a poor liar.
That almost earns a reaction.
Almost.
âShe thinks Iâm trying to kill her,â he mutters.
Yes.
Sgaeyl sounds pleased about that.
Which is concerning.
âSheâs avoiding me.â
Yes.
âThatâs not my problem.â
It is now.
He goes still.
Thereâs a shift in the bond.
Bealith insists she does not understand.
âGood.â
I disagree.
Of course she does.
Go find her.
He closes his eyes briefly.
Counts to three.
Opens them again.
Still there.
Still thinking about you.
Go.
He exhales.
ââŠfine.â
He doesnât have to look far.
Of course he doesnât.
Youâre exactly where he expected.
The courtyard.
Looking like youâre about to argue with the air.
He stays in the shadows for a moment.
Watching.
Because that has become a habit.
One he has not broken.
One he is not going to examine.
Not now.
You shift slightly.
Glance around once.
Twice.
âI know youâre there.â
His mouth tightens.
Of course you do.
Shadows give him away.
He steps out anyway.
âYou know,â he says, voice low, âif youâre caught out here, there are consequences.â
You gesture toward him without missing a beat.
âRight back at you.â
His mouth almost moves.
He stops it.
âWhat do you want?â
Straight to the point.
He does not have the patience for anything else tonight.
You clasp your hands behind your back, rocking slightly on your heels.
He notices that.
He notices everything.
âI need help settling a bet.â
Of course you do.
He says nothing.
Waits.
You continue.
âBea thinks you like me.â
There it is.
Finally.
âI think heâs insane.â
Something in his chest snaps.
Weeks of this.
Watching you.
Being watched.
Being questioned.
Being wrong.
He is not wrong.
He knows exactly what this is.
You just donât.
He steps closer.
You donât move.
You donât understand what you just said.
You donât understand what youâve been doing.
You donât understand what youâve been doing to him.
âYour dragon,â he says quietly, âis not entirely wrong.â
You blink.
Confused.
Still not getting it.
Of course youâre not.
Thatâs the problem.
He closes the distance.
One hand lifts.
Fingers brushing lightly along your jaw.
You go still.
Finally paying attention.
Good.
Then he kisses you.
Itâs quick.
Not hesitant.
Not soft.
But not lingering either.
Like he made a decision.
And already moved past it.
When he pulls back, your expression is exactly what he expected.
This Was Not the Plan Part I
Xaden Riorson x Reader
You take the steps two at a time. There has to be a better way between the Healers and Riders Quadrants. There just has to be.
At the top, you almost run straight into two people. You recognize one of them. Xaden Riorson. That thought gets pushed aside just as quickly as it comes. The book in your arms matters more.
You slip between them with a quiet âsorry,â already moving. No hesitation. You step onto the parapet like itâs just another path, like itâs meant to be used.
Wind pulls at your skirt. You adjust it without thinking. One foot in front of the other, light and quick.
You almost make it the whole way without issue. Almost.
Your foot slips once, a small misstep but your body corrects before your mind even catches up. Years of dance kick in as you steady yourself and keep going.
By the time you reach the other side, youâre already scanning the crowd. Cadets everywhere. Too many.
You shift the book in your arms. âOkay⊠think.â
âDain. Find Dain.â
It takes a second. Then you spot him.
Which means Violet.
Relief hits first.
You weave through the crowd, slipping past people until youâre right behind her. You tap her shoulder.
She spins so fast it almost startles you.
âWhat on earth are you doing here? How did you even get in here?â
You blink, then shrug, pointing back over your shoulder.
âI didnât think there was another way in, so I just⊠used that.â A small pause. âPretended it was a balance beam. Well. Jogged it. But the same idea.â
Violet doesnât say anything. Her face goes pale. Slowly.
âYou walked the parapet.â
You nod, like thatâs the least interesting part of this conversation. Dain looks about the same as she does.
You donât really have time to unpack that.
You hold the book out to her.
âYou forgot this.â
Utterly stupid.
Thatâs what this whole day is. More cadets. More deaths. More responsibility he doesnât have time for.
At least itâs over. The last of them have already crossed the parapet.
Xaden turns, ready to head across and deal with the rest of the squad leaders and someone shoves past him.
Gone before he can properly react. A quiet, âsorry.â
He turns.
The girl is already stepping onto the parapet. Alone. With no pack. With zero hesitation, just a book clutched in her hands.
Is sheâŠ
She is.
Sheâs walking the parapet like itâs nothing.
Sheâs going to fall.
Halfway across, her foot slips. A small misstep enough to kill most cadets.
She corrects it before it becomes a problem. Doesnât even stop. Just keeps going like it never happened.
He moves to the courtyard with the others, but his eyes donât leave her. Not once.
She hits the other side and immediately starts scanning the crowd. Not for help. Not for approval.
For someone specific.
Xaden finds Imogen beside him.
âDid she give you a name?â
He tilts his chin toward the girl. Sheâs weaving through the cadets now, slipping between them until she stops behind Sorrengail.
Something clicks.
Not identical. But close enough.
The silver at the ends of her hair gives it away curled, pinned back with small gold pieces.
âNo.â
He doesnât look at Imogen. âDidnât stay long enough to give one.â
Imogen watches her for a second longer.
âIf you ask me, she wonât survive two minutes here.â
That should be the end of it. Should be easy to agree.
The Riders Quadrant eats people like her alivesoft, unprepared, out of place.
He glances back to where she stands, holding something out to Sorrengail like none of this matters. Like she didnât just walk the parapet for it.
ââŠmaybe.â
But she didnât fall.
And she should have.
You leave before formation. Dain helps. Apparently thereâs a safer way in and out of the Riders Quadrant. Something about that feels wrong, but you donât question it. You just⊠go.
The dragons torch the cadets who tried to run. Screams donât last long. They never do.
Xaden watches it without flinching.
But as the line forms, something is off.
His gaze drags over the crowd once. Twice.
She isnât there.
The girl from earlier.
Gone.
Maybe she did fall. Maybe she made it halfway back and misstepped. Maybe the dragons got her after all.
Wouldnât be the first. Wouldnât matter.
Sheâs not here.
The thought is quiet. Annoying. Unwanted.
The girl is a healer. She didnât stay for the demonstration.
Sgaeylâs voice cuts cleanly through his mind.
Xadenâs jaw tightens.
Then why the hell did she cross the damn parapet.
That remains to be seen.
He exhales sharply through his nose.
Of course it does.
They head toward the dining hall, boots against stone, voices low around them. Garrick falls into step at his side.
âYouâre brooding.â
Xaden doesnât look at him. âIâm not.â
Garrick huffs a quiet laugh. âYou are.â
A beat.
âThe girl from earlier. Didnât see her in formation.â
Garrick lifts a brow. âA healer walked the parapet for fun?â
Xaden looks ahead again, jaw set.
âShe didnât do it for fun.â
He doesnât know why he says it. Doesnât know why heâs certain.
But he is.
Itâs during sparring that he sees you again.
He wasnât looking for you.
He tells himself that, at least.
A first year nearly loses his arm, and Xaden is the one who gets stuck escorting him to the healerâs wing.
Annoying.
Youâre moving between beds, quick and light on your feet. Not rushed. Not panicked.
You laugh at something one of the other healers says.
And that smile,
it doesnât leave your face.
Xaden stills.
No.
Absolutely not.
He is not about to stand here and be distracted by some first year healer with a pretty smile.
You step up to the injured cadet without hesitation. Hands steady. Voice calm. You assess the damage, already working as you speak.
Clear. Confident.
Like youâve done this a hundred times before.
By the time heâs processed what youâre doing, youâre already finishing.
You glance up just for a second.
Your eyes meet his, just for a second.
Then youâre looking back at the cadet like he doesnât exist.
âNo sparring,â you say, voice firm and unyielding. âDonât care if it makes you look weak. If you want to keep both arms, stay off the mat.â
The cadet nods immediately.
Smart enough to listen.
He slides off the bed and heads for the door.
Xaden doesnât move.
Doesnât realize he hasnât moved until
âDid you need fixing, wing leader?â
He blinks.
Youâre looking at him now, head tilted slightly, that same easy expression, but thereâs something under it. Recognition. You knew he was staring. Of course you did.
He steps closer before he can stop himself.
âWhy cross the parapet if youâre a healer?â
The question leaves his mouth sharp. Unplanned.
Your brows pull together, confused only for a second. âOh.â It clicks for you, that smile shifting just slightly. âIs that what you call the giant balance beam?â
He knows you know what itâs called. He heard you that day. He doesnât call you on it.
You continue like itâs nothing. âViolet forgot her book. I just wanted to make sure she got it.â
A small shrug, like that explains everything.
âWas I not supposed to do that?â
You werenât. You both know that. But you say it like you genuinely donât care about the answer.
Xaden studies you. Really looks this time.
Youâre soft, put together, completely out of place in the Riders Quadrant. And yet, you walked the parapet. Didnât make a show of it. Didnât fall.
He exhales slowly. ââŠmost people donât survive it.â
Your expression doesnât change much. Just a small blink.
âGood to know for next time.â
There shouldnât be a next time. There wonât be a next time. He tells himself that immediately.
But something in his chest tightens anyway.
Because if there is,
heâs not entirely sure you wouldnât do it again.
The next time he sees you is after he finds Violet in that damn tree.
Heâs heading back to the dorms. Done with the day. Done with the chaos.
Thatâs when he spots movement in the courtyard.
Three figures. Hoods up. Moving like they donât want to be seen.
So he does the only logical thing.
He follows.
They donât stop until they reach the flight field.
Xaden is already over it. Whatever this is, itâs not worth it.Â
The hoods come down.
And there you are.
With two other healers. In the middle of the damn flight field.
He stills, slipping back into the shadows instead, watching.
Probably doing something stupid.
It doesnât look stupid.
Not exactly. Not once he actually pays attention.
Youâre climbing, up boulders, through trees, using anything you can get your hands on like it was made for training.
Deliberate. Controlled. Not clumsy in the slightest.
The humming starts a second later. Soft. Barely there.
It takes him a moment to realize,Â
itâs you.
Of course it is.
He exhales slowly.
No.
Heâs not doing this.
Heâs not about to stand here and feel something. Not for a Sorrengail. Definitely not for one that looks as breakable as Violet.
Breakable isnât how I would describe her.
Sgaeylâs voice is quiet. Measured.
And you donât either, not if your thoughts are anything to go by.
His jaw tightens. âSheâs breakable,â he mutters under his breath. âShe wouldnât last two days here.â
Sgaeyl doesnât argue. Just a low huff.
Then silence.
Movement draws his attention back to you.
Youâre in the trees now, walking from branch to branch like itâs the ground, balanced, making it look almost easy. Like youâve done it your entire life.
Thatâs how she did it.
You slip.
Just slightly.
Enough for his body to react before his mind does.
One step forward
He stops himself.
You catch yourself. Just barely. Then drop to the ground, rolling into your feet like it was intentional. Like it didnât almost go very wrong.
You laugh.
Like itâs nothing.
âI swear, for someone who bumps into everything and apologizes, you weirdly have balance.â
He freezes.
That⊠tracks.
Of course it does.
You grin, brushing your hands off. âI only did that once.â
Your friend snorts. âYeah, once just today. I saw you bump into a tray and say sorry to it.â
âA tray.â
You shake your head, glancing up at the sky. âWe should go. Itâs getting late.â
Just like that, the three of you slip off the field, disappearing toward one of the hidden entrances.
Like you were never there.
Xaden stays where he is. In the shadows. Not moving.
He didnât follow you.
There was no reason to.
âŠ
His shadows shift anyway, curling and restless as they slip after you.
But unlike you,
they always come back.
âShould we really be out here?â
Sofieâs voice comes from your right.
You donât stop walking. âSofie, weâre fine. Nolan said we have the day off.â You gesture vaguely ahead of you. âAnd I donât see anyone out here to tell us otherwise.â
She gives you a look.
You know that look.
The this is a bad idea and you know it look.
You ignore it.
âBesides,â she says, nodding toward the structure in front of you, âwe donât have the strength to even doâŠâ
She hesitates, like saying it will make it worse.
âThe gauntlet.â
You pause. Tilt your head. Then smile.
âObstacle course,â you correct. âIf you give it a name that sounds like itâs going to crush you, then it will.â
Cortland snorts from your left. âI canât tell if your egoâs too big or if your confidence is overcompensating.â
You glance at her. âWhy not both?â
That earns a quiet laugh.
You look back up at the course.
Itâs⊠tall. More than tall. Complicated.
But not impossible.
Not really.
âRelax,â you say, stepping forward. âWe watched Sawyer do it the other day.â
You reach for the first hold without hesitation. Grip. Pull. Your body follows, natural, like youâve already decided this is happening.
âBesides,â you add, climbing, âwe can just use the ropes to get down. Not that big of a deal.â
Behind you, your friends go quiet, sharing a look you can practically feel.
But a second later, you hear them move to follow anyway.
Because if youâre doing it,Â
theyâre not letting you do it alone.
Itâs when the three of you reach the top that you notice it.
People.
A lot of people.
Riders gathered below the gauntlet.
Watching.
Your stomach drops just a little.
ââŠoh.â
Cortland leans forward beside you, squinting. âThe guy in the back looks ready to kill you,â she mutters.
You follow her line of sight.
Yeah, you see him.
Xaden Riorson.
Even from this high up, you can feel it.
You canât tell if heâs surprisedâŠ
or if heâs about to climb up here and drag you back down himself.
âI think,â you say slowly, âthat might be because we just did the gauntlet.â
A beat.
âAnd didnât die.â
Which feels important.
Did you almost slip halfway up?
Yes.
Did you actually fall?
No.
And thatâs what counts.
Right?
You glance at your friends. All three of you are breathing a little heavier but steady. Fine. More than fine.
Because the truth is, youâve been training.
Not like riders. Not officially.
Long enough that this didnât feel impossible.
Just⊠difficult.
The three of you sit on the edge for a second longer, catching your breath. Pretending the crowd below doesnât exist.
A throat clears behind you.
All three of you freeze.
Slowly, you turn.
Professor Devera stands a few steps back, watching. Almost amused.
Thatâs⊠worse than angry.
âCausing quite the stir today, are we, ladies?â
Heat creeps up your neck instantly.
You push to your feet, stepping away from the ledge. All three of you move just a little closer together.
âWe werenât aware we couldnât climb it,â you say.
And even to your own ears, it sounds like youâre trying to convince yourself.
Her brow lifts. Just slightly.
You wince.
ââŠokay, so maybe itâs a little unorthodox,â you add quickly. âBut we didnât die.â
A small, hopeful pause.
âSo that has to count for something⊠right?â
Itâs when you reach the Rotunda that Devera finally stops.
The three of you nearly run into her when she turns.
âYou do realize,â she says, looking between you, âthat outside of sparring, youâre very close to qualifying as riders.â
That gets your attention.
You blink.
âWhat?â
Devera doesnât answer right away.
Your stomach drops.
Just a little.
âYou crossed the parapet,â Devera continues. âThen the gauntlet.â
Her gaze settles on you.
âNeither of those is taken lightly here.â
He shouldnât be here.
This has nothing to do with him.
And yet, Xaden doesnât leave.
He watches you.
Really watches this time.
You donât look proud. You donât look like youâre trying to prove anything.
You lookâŠ
confused.
Like this wasnât intentional. Like you didnât realize what you were doing.
That doesnât make sense.
No one accidentally does both.
Sgaeyl hums low in his mind.
You already know that isnât true.
His jaw tightens.
You shift on your feet, not steady now, not like earlier. Fingers fidgeting slightly at your sides.
And yet, you walked it. You climbed it. Didnât fall, and certainly didnât break.
ââŠshe shouldnât be able to do that,â Garrick mutters behind him.
Xaden doesnât respond.
Because heâs starting to realize you didnât do it to be impressive.
You did it because you wanted to.
And that is far more dangerous.
Itâs when the three of you are halfway down the Healers Quadrantâs main hallway that he makes himself known.
âYou keep that up,â he says from behind you, âyouâll end up with targets on your backs.â
All three of you turn. Too fast.
Nervous.
He can feel it. Rolling off you in waves.
Good.
Thatâs how itâs supposed to be.
âTry not to wind up on the threshing field,â he continues. âYou mightâve managed the parapet and the gauntlet, but threshing isnât for the weak.â
The second it leaves his mouth, he knows.
Since when do you toy with female emotions?
Sgaeylâs voice is dry.
Since now, he snaps back. And since when do you care what I do with them?
The day you stop thinking about the Sorrengail healer is the day I assume youâve gone mad.
His jaw tightens.
He doesnât think about you that often.
âŠdoes he?
Shields slam into place. Hard.
Heâs not doing this. Not here. Not about you.
âIâm sorry, did you just call us weak?â
He looks at the other two first.
Predictable.
Defensive.
He opens his mouth
âSome nerve you have.â
You.
Of course itâs you.
âYou think just because itâs âoh, Iâm Xaden Riorson, Iâm big and scary and my dragonâs scaryâ that you get to be a dick?â
Thereâs no hesitation. No fear in your voice.
Just clear, unfiltered annoyance.
âNews flash,â you continue, stepping forward just enough to close the space between you, âno one asked for your opinion.â
âAnd if I want itâ
You pause. Glance around like youâre genuinely considering it.
Then smile.
âIâll throw my shoe at you.â
Silence.
Behind you, your friends look like they want to disappear into the floor.
You donât wait for a response.
You just turn, link your arms with theirs, and walk away.
Like that was nothing.
You mocked him.
Him.
Of all people.
And it wasnât even a good impression.
Not accurate.
Not threatening.
Barely passable.
âŠ
He huffs a quiet breath, something dangerously close to a smile pulling at the corner of his mouth.
Okay, I am currently working on another Xaden Riorson Fic and need help deciding on how to post it. It's looking like 5-8 Chapters, around 900-1200 words each.
What do I do?
Post Chapters one at a time (900-1200 words each)
Post it in 1-2 larger parts ( 3k words each)
Voting ended onApr 27
Also!!!!
What do we think about the writing style I've been using?
I know a lot of people on here write in full paragraphs, and I usually do more line by line formatting. Is one easier to read than the other, or should I switch it up?