Priority
Garrick Tavis x Reader
Summary: Anon Request: You thought you were Garrick's world, until Xaden ordered Violet's protection and that always seemed to take priority.
A/N: Mentions of torture, violence, spoilers for FW, small OS spoiler, angst
Word Count: 9k
Waking up to the bitter scent of healing herbs and the blinding white of the infirmary is not what you expected when you had gone to bed three days ago. Eyes adjusting to the lighting, you took stock of your limbs and tested each and every one. Curling your fingers and toes, rolling your wrists and ankles, moving your head from side to side, but when you went to pick up your legs, the phantom pain came rushing back in fast and sharp.
A moan escaped your lips unbidden as you tried to push down the reminder of the two lieutenants who had used you as their personal punching bag. This wasn’t the first time you’d been interrogated for RSC, but it was definitely the worst. And you knew there was something more to it than just RSC because you had been on your own. For three days, you were held captive, beaten, bruised, and broken all for what, you didn’t know. Or at least you think it was three days, but pain and mending seem to blend together when you have nothing else to focus on.
Finally opening your eyes fully, you look to the end of the bed and expect to see a familiar pair of hazel eyes staring back at you. Instead, you are met with an empty chair.
Brows furrowing, you slowly hoist yourself to a sitting position to take a better look at the room around you. It is there and then that your heart absolutely shatters. Reality of everything slamming into you in a way that you never thought possible.
There’s no mistaking that no one had been in to see you. The area usually meant for visitors still as pristine as usual and no furniture out of place. But before you let yourself spiral, you make a promise to wait to confirm with the healers themselves.
As if answering your silent call, a light blue uniform peaks around the door and comes toward you.
“I’m glad to see you’re finally awake my dear.” A comforting smile breaks across the older woman’s face causing you to give her one in return.
“Just need to check over a few things with you and then you can be on your way.” She continues her tone sweet, but actions clinical.
Before you can decide the better of it, the words have left your mouth. “Can I ask if anyone has come to see me while I’ve been in here?”
Sadness creeps into her eyes and the look confirms your suspicion before she even speaks. You give a slight shake of your head and tilt it up to try and stop the tears that are beginning to threaten. Pools of water coat every inch of your eyelids, but you refuse to close them and let a single tear fall. Not now at least. You only let your fragile heart break into pieces and know there isn’t enough glue in the world to possibly put it back together anymore.
Before long the healer has given you a few pain tonics and confirmed you can head back to your room. You take the bag and throw your torn and bloodied flight jacket over your arm and head back towards the riders quadrant hoping you can avoid everyone.
Zinhal however decides that isn’t to be your luck. As you turn onto the landing for the second-year floor, the last person you wanted to see is standing right in front of you. A smile on his face has his dimple popping as he looks at you after pausing his conversation with Bodhi.
Emotions swirl and you’re unsure if you want to punch him in the face or rip out his heart, just like he just did to yours. The hurt settling into your heart and dragging it to the pit of your stomach like a heavy weight.
Taking a deep breath as every piece of your shattered heart jostles against your chest, you look straight forward showing no emotion and head straight to your door.
Before you can make it all the way to your room, the mountain of muscle that usually had your heart racing stands in front of you. Your eyes slowly rise and look back at the man who was your entire world. The dimpled smile still plastered on his face, he steps forward to take your hand and you immediately step back and avert your gaze.
“Hey.” He has the audacity to put his hand under your chin, coaxing you to look up at him. “I’ve been looking for you.”
At those words you let out a sardonic scoff. Clearly the cretin in front of you has no idea what he just said and everything you just experienced.
“Where have you been over the last few days?” Your voice is dry and void of emotion, but you still need the answer.
He looks at you and furrows his brows before responding. “You know I was helping Xaden with the blades and saddle for Sorrengail. I’ve been in the forge with him.”
“Ah.” It’s the only thing you have to say to the man in front of you. Pulling your face from his hand, you sidestep him and begin walking to your room.
Without turning around, you call out to make sure he won’t follow you. “I’m tired. I’m going to bed early. I’ll see you later.”
As soon as the words are out of your mouth, you shut your door behind you and lock it. Without hesitation, you pull out your book on wards and immediately start reweaving the ones you have. You pull every ounce of control you have left to change your wards to only allow yourself through your door. There is no doubt in your mind that Garrick will have a shock when he tries to come in, but at this point, you don’t care. Bitterness settles into your heart crawling like vines between your ribs with deep roots weaving between every bone.
Setting the last piece of power in place, you let yourself break. Sliding to your knees, every possible sound is drowned out by the sounds of your sobs. You let your head hit the floor as you break apart. Your body unable to even hold itself up. Tears streaming in a torrent down your face and your breathing turning rapid and irregular. You try, but it’s impossible to control the shaking of your body with the violent sobs racking your heart.
It isn’t until you wake the next morning that you realized you never even made it to your bed and sobbed on the floor until the exhaustion tore you apart. Rising, you go to the mirror and look back at the girl staring at you in the reflection.
The eyes that greet you are puffy and bloodshot, but there is a vacant look where there used to be a spark of life. There is no brightness to the color of your skin, every ounce of sunlight seemingly bleached from your complexion. Purple bruises look as if they are indented under your eyes. The color of your irises once so vivid now muted and dull, empty and haunted.
Closing them, you breathe in the heartbreak that has filled every pore of your skin. The breath feeling like its traveling through the broken glass of your lungs, sharp and unrelentingly painful. You know there is no way you can show the devastation you’re feeling, not in this quadrant, and not to all the people who told you that you were just another conquest. With a heaving sigh, you head to the bathing chamber and pray to the gods that you can wash away the grief as best you can and put on the face of a warrior.
Though as the water begins to heat your cold skin, you feel the warm tide of anger rise with it. A fury buried deep beneath your heart begins to consume everything. Thoughts you had buried for so long burrowing deep in your very core. You finish dressing and immediately make your way back to your room and dress for the day, every movement sharp and harried.
Putting on your tight-fitting training leathers, you tie your hair up close to your head and pin it in place. There’s no mistaking the blaze that has taken over your eyes a vibrant fire dancing in the previously muted color, dismissing the vacant look from before. Without waiting any longer, you tear your door open and begin the slog to the training room.
Your footsteps are heavy, thudding loudly against the stone floor as you march yourself towards the nearest punching bag. Each step is another strike of anger taking a bite out of your already tattered heart. The fire of your anger laid thick into the stones of the fortress.
“Feisty and wallowing today, are we?” The snarky question comes from the last female you wanted to see.
You don’t give her the satisfaction of a response as you continue pushing past her down the corridor. At least you didn’t think you would, until you find yourself turning around and looking at her with Bodhi now next to her.
“He’s all yours Cardulo. I’m done with all of you.” Your voice drips venom, though if either one of them knew you well enough, they would hear the betrayal and sadness seeping through every syllable.
Not taking another second to register what she could possibly reply, you immediately keep walking. Making your way into the gym, you quickly take up a spot at the nearest punching bag. Not bothering with wraps, you swing with every ounce of emotion you can possibly displace. White hot pain splits up your knuckles, but you relish in it as it replaces the agony tied around your heart.
Unsure of how long you’ve stood there delivering punches to the bag with all the force you can muster, you are startled when a large shadow appears behind you.
“What did that punching bag do to you?” There’s no mistaking the tease in his voice and it only fuels the fire within you.
“Fuck off, Tavis.” You spit to the man that is hovering over your shoulder.
As you go to throw another wild punch, your eyes fly up when your fist is intercepted by the aggravating man’s large hand.
“What’s gotten into you?” Garrick questions and his audacity to ask has you pulling back you hand as quickly as you can.
“It’s none of your business. In fact, I’m no longer your business. Why don’t you go back to protecting your duke and precious charge and leave me the hell alone.” The rancor in your tone is obvious as you immediately twist away and head to the door.
Before you can push it open, a gust of wind pushes you against the wall, taking the breath from your lungs. Looking up, hazel eyes are staring down at you mixed between disbelief and anger.
“You aren’t just going to say that and walk away. Tell me what the fuck is going on.” You can’t help the sarcastic laugh that falls from your lips.
“No.” Every bit of defiance is burning in your limbs, and you refuse to say anything more to the man who can’t seem to spare a minute of his day for you. Garrick stands there his eyes searching yours, though you know there is nothing but anger and emptiness behind your gaze. Your lungs begin burning as the fury rushes through your body.
His hand comes up to your face as if he wants to comfort you and you instantly slap it away. Garrick’s eyes flare at the action and you feel a slight satisfaction in the way the gold in his eyes seems to turn to worry. There isn’t any reason to worry though, not anymore, you think to yourself as you boldly stare back at him.
“What happened?” Garrick’s tone has softened as he’s realized that there’s more to your actions than just simple aggravation.
“If you have to ask, then you aren’t paying attention.” You snap; your tone refuses to soften after how many times this man has left you wondering your importance.
“Please tell me. I can’t fix anything if I don’t know where I went wrong.” The pleading in his voice tries to crack through the hurt that’s been living in your mind for months, but it just isn’t enough anymore.
“At this point, there isn’t anything to fix. You have your priorities and I’m not one of them. So, think of this as a boon. You now have more time to focus on your more important duties, Section Leader.” The sharpness of your voice cuts like a blade as you lay the final strike to your relationship.
You watch as his gaze cracks, the hard exterior he always wears fractures and shows you the broken man he is becoming at your words. Part of your heart wants to reach out and comfort him, but the harder part of you, tired of being left behind wins.
Taking advantage of his shock at your words, you quickly leave the gym, leaving the man that you used to think was your everything behind. The future that you had deigned to let run through your mind nothing but tattered shreds of a painting that was never allowed to form.
A few days later, you open your door, and your breath catches as you see Garrick’s frame standing outside, hands braced on either side of the threshold and a wild look behind his eyes.
“What do you want Tavis?” Your impatience is on full display as you take in the mussed look of the man in front of you, the complete reverse of his usual calm and poised demeanor. His curls are wilder than normal, showing how many times he’s run his hands through them and there is no mistaking the pallor of his skin and sunken state of his eyes.
“Why can’t I get into your room anymore?” He breathes as if it is the most urgent question he has.
“Simple.” You reply, your tone remaining cool and detached. “We aren’t together any longer, so there is no need for you to have access to my room.”
His hand moves to reach for you, but he immediately recoils at the wards that encase your door.
“Let me in, please.” The pleading in his voice and eyes would’ve cracked your resolve once, but now it just steels your heart. Though it’s impossible to completely dismiss the sweep of your stomach.
“No. You lost that privilege.” You refuse to let him claw his way back in, tired of always feeling second best. “Why don’t you go crawl back to Xaden, maybe he’ll let you in with him and Violet, because I’m done.”
As if caught off guard, he backs up a step leaving enough room for you to stride out and begin down the corridor.
“Wait.” His hand wraps around your wrist as you finally make your way out to the courtyard. “What is that supposed to mean?”
You scoff at his question but turn around and look him in the eyes with every ounce of disappointment you’ve ever felt.
“Did you know I was in the infirmary a week ago?” You watch as his eyes blow wide at the revelation, but all it does is fuel your rage.
“Precisely. Do you know why I was there? Oh, that’s right, you didn’t even know I was there so why would you know the reason?” You continue as you stalk towards the man. Even though he towers over you, the shadow of your bitterness is taller than any height he has on you.
“Are you alright?” He has the audacity to blurt as he looks your body up and down looking for injuries. The laugh that barrels out of you is nothing but cynical.
"Obviously.” You sneer. “No thanks to the man that supposedly loves me.” You don’t miss the way he flinches at your words.
Another sarcastic huff leaves you as you continue. “I was tortured by two lieutenants – alone - for three days, and in the infirmary for an entire day after that. But did the man that claims I’m his whole world show up?”
“No!” The roar that leaves you is louder than you expected, but your anger has exploded, and you can no longer keep it contained. Continuing to stalk into his space, you jab your finger into his hard chest.
“And I can see by the look on your face you didn’t even know.” Your bitterness is on full display now. “I always knew your allegiance was to Riorson and now by extension, Sorrengail. But I never thought it would be at the cost of even knowing I was fucking missing.”
“So, yes, this is the end of our road Garrick. Feel free to sow your fucking oats with anyone in the stables of Basgiath. I’m done. Finished. I refuse to be put last in the list of priorities for the man who claims that I’m his whole world.”
“I didn’t know.” The words leave his lips in the barest whisper as his stunned silence continues.
“How would you when you’re constantly following Xaden like his loyal pet? And now Violet. Sure, every single marked one has her on their radar, but at what fucking cost? When do any of you get to have your own lives?” The control on your words has completely left you as you continue to barrage the man in front of you with every ounce of bitterness in your heart. “I understand you owe him everything, but is it at the expense of having a life yourself? At what point do you get to make someone else your world? When do you get to live for yourself?”
You’ve never seen the man in front of you speechless, but it seems like you have rendered his tongue from his mouth at his continued silence. You shake your head as you begin to step back from him.
“Maybe this will help you in the long run, but no one is going to stay when they constantly must play second fiddle, even though a man claims you’re everything to him. Perhaps in another life we could’ve been happy, but I’m tired of always being your last priority.”
With that you let your feet carry you away from the man that you thought was your forever. You head to the flight field and only hope that you can outfly your own emotions.
Weeks pass and you don’t miss the glances that Garrick is always throwing your way. You have done your best to put distance between the both of you and being in a different wing, it works, for the most part. Every time your name is called to the mat, you don’t miss the way Garrick steps up and watches your every move.
In one particularly brutal match, you don’t miss the way that he goes to step in when you take a brutal punch to face. With blood spilling from a cut to your cheekbone, you turn away and stand on the other side of the mat an empty look on your face.
Trying to get in and out of battle brief without getting trapped by him becomes almost impossible. It’s as if he has become a sentinel at the door and refuses to move until you go in and out. On one particular day, the short fuse on your temper has been tested all day and it takes every ounce of control you possess not to rip into him as you try to get into the class. The minute it’s over, you are the first one out the door before Garrick can even blink.
The rawness of the day has taken every ounce of your control, so you find yourself walking out to the river in a bid to find a least a little slice of solace in this tumult of a life you’ve found yourself in. Sitting in the tall grass near the bank of the Iakabos, your head falls back on one of the stones and your eyes close relishing in the warmth of the sun on your face.
You let your mind wander as you try to let the warm glow of the setting sun and calming flow of the water become the only sounds and feelings left.
Unfortunately, it’s short-lived when you hear heavy footfalls behind you. Turning, your senses rise when you can’t see anyone behind you, but there is no mistaking the way the hairs on the back of your neck begin to stand at attention.
“I know you’re there.” You call out to the copse of trees behind you, heartbeat erratic at what you aren’t sure is a threat or not.
In the next few seconds, your fear turns into annoyance as you register the person who has broken your solitude.
“I’m not interested in company, Durran. Least of all from any of Garrick’s loyalists.” You snap in irritation, turning back to face the river.
Bodhi continues his trek undeterred by your words, if the sounds of his footfalls are any indication. Aggravation begins to peak as Bodhi stops next to you and joins you to sit on the forest floor. You let out a heavy sigh, laden with annoyance before turning your head to look at the man sitting next to you.
Silence stretches as you turn your head back towards the river and watch as the sun makes its final arc before setting.
“Why are you here?” There’s no way to hide the exasperation in your voice, tired of feeling like the one that always has to back down from your own anger.
Bodhi slowly turns his face to you, as if he’s just registering your presence for the first time. But it’s the sad smile on his lips that has your own expression faltering.
“I think you know why I’m here.” Bodhi finally pipes up, though his voice is subdued. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen Garrick fall apart like this.”
His tone does nothing to quell the nerves that have seemed to bundle in your stomach, though you narrow your eyes in suspicion.
“Garrick is a big boy. I’m sure he’ll be just fine. He just needs to find an open bed and he’ll be right as rain.” Your anger flaring at the possibility of this conversation.
Bodhi hums in acknowledgement of what you’ve said, though his entire posture remains in an unusual state of sadness.
“You’ve inserted yourself into a family of sorts, you know.” He continues, now glancing out towards the river, his composure turned thoughtful. “After the apostasy, we became brothers. The group of us clinging to each other to hold on to a sense of normalcy.”
“Though, Xaden took most of the burden. Which in turn, I suppose you could say, made him our de facto leader, not that he wasn’t before that.” Bodhi’s head falls slightly and begins to shake. “We’ve always let him deliver the orders. Let Xaden command us – but something you said to Garrick must’ve hit him hard.”
“He came to me the day after he tried to get into your room and failed.” He continues matter-of-factly. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen Garrick so worked up. Sure, he teases and ruffles people’s feathers, but I don’t think he’s ever had someone put him in his place so well. Never had someone to put things into perspective.”
You turn and look at Bodhi again, contemplation taking over your own features. “I like to think I’ve been patient. That I’ve been understanding, because I know about everything that has happened to your families. But I refuse to be the last priority for someone that claims to love me.”
At this point Bodhi turns and looks at you, the sad smile gracing his features again. “I know. And so does Garrick. You see the issue is not that you’re wrong. Because gods, even Garrick knows that you’re more than right. It’s really that this is the first time any one of us in Xaden’s circle has ever had to confront it.”
A dry chuckle leaves his lips. “I’m sure you’re aware that Xaden’s close circle isn’t known for their stellar relationship skills.”
You can’t help the sardonic huff that leaves you at the comment.
“So that means you’ll also realize that you were the first one to push through the ranks and become the first outsider in our mismatched family.” Bodhi leans in and gives you a knock into your shoulder. “The first one to really stay that is.”
“I’m not sure your fearless leader would agree with that.” You murmur with a raised brow.
Bodhi’s nose scrunches, trying not to show feelings about his cousin. “He’s not exactly the person you should gauge that from.”
You scoff again and Bodhi gives you a knowing smile of his own.
“But before you, there wasn’t anyone that any of us needed to prioritize outside of our own circle. Hell, most of the time we don’t even prioritize our own selves if there is something that Xaden demands.” You hum in acknowledgment knowing that you’ve seen that yourself.
“And you know Garrick, loyal to a fault. If someone asks, he’s there, possibly eating you out of house and home, but always there.” You both snicker at the mention of Garrick’s insatiable appetite.
“Knowing that, you should know how torn up he is. Not only did he fail to know you were missing and hurt, but he let you fall through the cracks. Honestly – he’s probably pacing in his room right now beating himself over all the cracks that he created himself.” Bodhi continues, your chin drops to your upturned knees, and you let yourself rest on them.
“I needed more than words.” You murmur quietly, tired of holding back everything. “I wanted him to show up for me. To show that I wasn’t last on his list for the day.”
“You’re right.” Bodhi agrees as he begins to stand. “It’s up to you if you are willing to listen to him or give him a chance at all to explain. But I wanted you to know that prioritization of our partners is something we will all need to learn, maybe even the hard way of losing the one we love. Though at the end of the day, we’re going to war, and no one knows if they are going to come home the next day – even Xaden needs to realize that.”
“And yes, Xaden is important to a lot of us, and we love him and the Sorrengail situation has added complications on top of everything. However, we can’t continue to exist on only protecting him and his interests over every relationship in our own lives.” Bodhi reaches his hand out and you bring yours up, allowing him to pull you to your feet as well. “If we stand any chance at happiness, we need to stand our ground for our own partners too.”
“So even if you never reconcile with Garrick, thank you. Thank you for saying what needed to be said, for vocalizing something we all need to realize.” With that Bodhi begins to walk back to the citadel.
You begin to follow after him, but let yourself linger, taking the time to try and absorb every single word.
‘Perhaps the cousin should be the leader. He seems to understand you humans better.’ You let out a snort at Stòlda’s comment.
‘Bodhi does seem to have a level head on his shoulders. At least he seems to realize that people have feelings.’ You comment though not really focusing on the conversation with your dragon.
As you get closer and closer to the citadel, you can’t help but feel the loom of the fortress settle in your bones. As tired as you have been since your latest torture session, you haven’t been sleeping well, phantom pains and hands keeping your mind running at night.
Arriving at the second-year floor, you take a heaving breath, the tiredness of the day beginning to settle into your bones. For some reason though your feet begin to feel even more sluggish than before, every step taking an immense amount of concentration and physical strength.
‘Something isn’t right.’ You send down your bond with Stòlda, but everything about your connenction with her seems fuzzy.
Before you can take one more step your world goes black and muffled voices ring through your mind, but you can’t make out a single one.
__________
Waking up to an uncomfortable pull between your shoulders, you try to bring your arms forward but as you tug, the rough pinch of rope jerks at the skin of your wrist. Letting out a hiss of pain, you open your eyes and all you find is a room of roughhewn stone in front of you.
Scanning the room, the only light emanating in is from a small window that is halfway to the only door. Confusion is the only thing that registers, aside from the pain between your shoulders and the rub of the rope on your skin.
Distant sounds of roars and the clash of metal has your head spinning, eyes darting left and right, though there is nothing for you to see being strapped to the chair you are in. Suddenly you register the loud pound of boots outside the door and your eyes focus, waiting for whatever danger is lurking.
A reverberating kick to the door has it splintering and you close your eyes to the onslaught of wooden shards.
“Well, well, what do we have here?” An all too familiar and cruel voice drawls from in front of you.
Drawing your gaze forward, there’s no way to hide your sneer of disgust. Your head rises as the menacing figure drawing forward, but you don’t back down from holding your head proudly.
“I never thought we’d have the marked one’s whore for a target.” The masculine voice continues to sneer as he comes face to face with you. There’s no mistaking the disdainful visage in front of you, not since you’ve spent more than enough time trying to rid yourself of him.
Kol. Second Wing’s resident menace that has caused more than his fair share of deaths in the quadrant. A bully who came to the quadrant for gore and power, not the ability to help anyone.
“I never thought I’d be subjected to your disgusting face, but here we are.” The words barely leave your mouth before the burning sting of a hand bursts across your face, head thrown to the side from the impact.
The coppery tang of blood coats your tongue and you gather everything you can and spit it directly in his face. His eyes flash and you pull on your restraints again trying to stop him as you register his fist coming up to punch you in the face. Unfortunately, the bindings have no give and the only thing you can do is take the blow. A strike of pain, hot as a branding iron flashes over your eye socket causing a moan to escape as your vision begins to blur.
“Not so tough now when your personal guard isn’t around, are you?” Kol mocks as he begins circling the chair you’re tethered in.
Even with your right eye swelling fully shut, you stare at him through blurry vision not willing to back down.
“Must be tougher than you since you had to wait until I was tied up to attack.” You taunt, though clearly that was the opposite of what you should have done.
Rage burning in his eyes, Kol unsheathes the dagger at his waist, and you rear back as he drags the tip down your arm. A muffled cry climbs your throat, but you refuse to open your mouth and let the sounds become any louder.
“I’m going to have a wonderful time breaking you, inch by inch. You’ll be begging me to stop before I’m finished with you.” Your eyes flash at Kol’s sadistic words, but you refuse to back down and succumb to his incessant taunts.
Concerning quiet has suddenly settled over the room you’re in and it brings Kol’s focus back to the door he had come through. Brows furrowing, you try to place if you did hear another pair of boots or if it was just the ringing in your ears.
“Now where were we?” Kol jeers as he slowly draws the dagger across your face. “Ah, yes, I believe we were just about to get started.” The vicious gleam in his eye has your fear ratcheting, but you refuse to let it show.
“And I believe you’re about to die.” The voice breaks through the quiet so low and menacing you feel like you may have dreamt it.
Turning your head from Kol, you squint with your good eye trying to make out the figure in the doorway, but all you can register is the man’s tall frame.
The sinister smirk that graces Kol’s face makes you realize it could only possibly be one person.
Garrick strides forward and the glint of sunlight catches on his sword as he holds it out in front of him. You try to get a clearer picture, but no matter what you try, your vision remains blurred. A jolt of panic rises through you as the familiar clink of blades meeting makes your pulse begin to race.
Here you are, tied to a chair with no access to your power or dragon, so you’ll be absolutely nothing but a liability.
“No, Garrick! Just go. You don’t need to worry about me any longer.” A male grunt registers, but the clash of steel still sings through the air.
There’s no response from either man as you hear the continued grunts of a fight and clang of metal. Though your worry grows when you hear a groan of pain and the unmistakable tear of flesh.
“Garrick!” You heave, trying to control the panic rising, continuing to pull on your restraints. “Are you alright?”
Another grunt is heard before the decisive thump of a body hitting the floor is heard. Your heart beating erratically and your breathing shallow, you continue to pull on your restraints even through the burning pain that has rubbed your skin raw.
Booted footsteps sound and your shallow breathing continues as you can only pray that Garrick is the one approaching you and not Kol. A slight whimper leaves your lips as familiar fingers trace your jawline and come to rest on your chin.
Without removing his hand, your wrists are freed and your shoulders sag at the sudden relief. Before you can take stock of the rest of your body, you feel yourself being picked up and cradled into a strong chest.
“You don’t have to carry me. I can take care of myself.” You retort, but there’s no bite to the words. They fall short of their aimed target.
“I am more-than-aware that you can take care of yourself.” Garrick replies with a softness in his voice you’ve never heard before. “But no matter where we stand, I will always want to take care of you. Even if my previous actions may contradict that statement.”
You don’t reply to his words, unsure in the moment of what to say, so you let you let your words drift to safer ground.
“How did you know I was here? How did you find me?” The words come out quieter than you expected.
Garrick takes a considering pause before replying, a soft huff leaving his lips. “If you think after the last month that I don’t know where you are at every moment of every day, you’re fooling yourself.”
A sardonic scoff leaves your mouth at this words, but you won’t deny that the conviction in his tone doesn’t have you intrigued.
“Seems silly to keep tabs on someone that you aren’t with any longer.” Your lips thin as the words slip out before you can stop them.
Your body slightly jostles as Garrick comes to a stop. “I know you may not believe me. Honestly, after everything, I wouldn’t expect you to, but you haven’t stopped being the singular most important person in my life.”
You try to focus on Garrick’s face as he keeps speaking, but your vision still refuses to clear. “This isn’t the time to have the whole conversation that I want to have with you. But I need you to know that if you will let me prove to you that you are my priority, I will not let you regret it.”
Without waiting for your reply, Garrick begins walking again and soon the warmth of the sun greets you. The swift kick of the wind licks at your face, as well as the sounds of wing beats. It’s the sudden realization of everything going on around you that causes you to gasp.
“I can’t feel Stòlda.” You murmur to Garrick, unsure of if anyone else is around.
“What do you mean you can’t feel her?” Garrick questions with clear worry in his voice.
“Exactly that. I woke up tied to that chair and unable to feel our bond.” Garrick’s grip tightens on you as you hear the distinct sound of wings getting closer and closer.
“Let’s get you to the healers as soon as possible and I’ll find out what’s going on.” Garrick confirms, clearly beginning to mount Chradh.
“Are you sure Chradh is alright with you carrying me?” You can’t help but question, trying to pull out of his grip.
“Of course he is. He knows how much you mean to me. And besides, Stòlda ordered him to bring you to safety.” As he finishes, Garrick carefully plants you in the seat on Chradh’s back in front of him.
Wrapping his arms tightly around you, he grips the pommel in front of you, not letting you jostle in any way. You close your eyes at the onslaught of the wind against your battered face, turning your head as far into Garrick’s shoulder as you possibly can to conceal yourself, to push away the sharp sting of the wind. You try not to breathe in the familiar scent of the man that has you wrapped in his arms, but its impossible to ignore the scent of leather, steel, and something distinctly him, a comforting presence that you loathe to have to give up again. Involuntarily, you take a deep breath, inhaling him and the strength that he radiates, every inch of him a balm to your frayed nerves.
Even though every movement he makes is completely controlled, there is no way to mistake the rapid heartbeat thumping through your ears. You don’t let yourself get wrapped up in the thought, because its most likely just from the adrenaline from the fight. Soon enough, you feel the pull of Chradh’s wings as he begins to slow and land.
Garrick unwraps his arms and you go to begin to lever yourself off of Chradh, but before you move two steps, you feel the way the brown dragon begins to shift even further to the ground. Unsure whether to move or not, you stand still until Garrick’s caloused hand is gently guiding your arm down.
Vision still blurry, its impossible to truly make sense of the people standing around you, but the next voice you hear is unmistakeable.
“Tavis, take the egg. I need to check on Sorrengail.” Xaden’s voice booms over the chaos that is breaking out around you, his strides towards Garrick carrying a weight that you never miss.
“No.” Garrick’s voice carries an edge of steel, firm and unyeilding, something that you’ve never heard before, especially not directed at Xaden, his best friend and superior officer. “Get Graves or Scharf to deal with it.”
There’s no missing the look of venom Xaden sends Garrick’s way, even with your terrible vision. “I said take the egg, that’s an order from your Wingleader.” Xaden’s voice hardens, an edge that dares Garrick to defy him. The air between them turns charged, the tension building like a storm cloud.
Not wanting Garrick to be punished or let this get out of hand, you start to maneuver your legs out of Garrick’s hold, but instead of letting you down, he only holds tighter.
“Stay right where you are.” Garrick directs at you, tone gentle, though his focus never leaves the glaring Wingleader.
“She’s more important than that damn egg.” Garrick continues, his tone never losing the steel, the tone of immovablility. “And this time my priorities will be clear. Sorrengail is your responsibility, as Y/N is mine. I’ve come to heel regarding Sorrengail too many times at her expense. I won’t do it anymore.”
Without waiting on Xaden’s response, Garrick’s steps continue towards the fortress, controlled and measured. Each click of his boots a smattering of both pressure and relief.
“You don’t need to worry about me, Garrick. I can get someone else to take me to the healers.” Your tone is quiet, tired, beaten down. The adrenaline and energy from the battle beginning to drain from your body.
Looking up to Garrick’s face, you can see the muscle in his jaw feather as his footsteps begin to slow. Your arms drop from around his neck as you try to move away from him, but before you even have an inch between you, Garrick’s grip tightens again. His hands keeping you firmly tethered to his side, his eyes coming down to stare into your own.
“You aren’t getting anyone else to take you. You aren’t leaving my side. And I don’t give a fucking shit if Xaden never talks to me again.” His feet begin moving again and before you have the chance to reply, the familiar scent of the Healer’s Ward comes floating through the air.
Garrick walks confidently to the nearest open cot, before he steps away to beckon the nearest healer.
“Oh my dear.” A sweet female voice floats through the air. “I didn’t expect to see you in here again so soon. Though I’m glad there’s someone with you this time.”
You give her the semblence of a tired smile, but there’s no warmth there. Nothing happy fills you as you wait to hear the retreating footsteps of Garrick’s boots.
She stands in front of you checking you from head to toe, taking time to put a salve on your swollen eye. “I’m going to get Nolon and see if he can assist with taking away some of the inflamation so you can at least see out of one eye.”
“Before you leave, can you also ask if there’s something that was given to me before war games?” Your tone comes out pleading, the silence in your mind between you and your dragon weighing on you. “For some reason I’m unsure of, my bond is gone. Or it feels like it has been severed somehow.”
The healer looks back at you, a look that says she knows exactly what you speak of and that she doesn’t agree with it one bit.
“I’ll get everything you need while I find Nolon. We’ll get some of your vision back in order and you’ll have your dragon back in no time.” She says with a confidence you don’t feel.
Shaking your head in acknowledgment, you let your head fall back to the pillow behind you, eyes closed to keep away the blur of your vision. Taking a deep breath, you try to keep the emotions roiling inside at bay. There’s no reason to cry, or to rage, you know that it won’t fix anything in your failed relationship.
The quiet of the ward greets your ears and you try to breathe through the hazy thoughts of the day, but warmth gliding over your hand has your eyes popping open.
Mouth widening slightly, you look up to see the blurry figure of Garrick standing over you, his fingers intertwined with yours, stroking the back of your knuckles.
“You – you can go.” You confirm, your voice small, even to your own ears. “I’m sure you have more important things to tend to.”
The stroking on your knuckles comes to a quick halt and you close your eyes, not wanting to watch Garrick turn his back on you again. But your eyes open again when you feel the bed next to you dip and a warm, calloused hand cup your cheek.
“I’m not going anywhere.” Garrick’s voice is quiet, subdued in a way you’ve never heard before. “I heard everything you said. And I saw everything you didn’t.”
He starts, but stops in a way that indicates he’s unsure on how to continue.
“I failed.” He exhales. “Failed you spectacularly in every single way I could.” He shakes his head as if unbelieving of his own actions. The movement causing your throat to catch, unsure of where this conversation is headed.
“I took advantage of the fact that you’ve always been able to take care of yourself. Always been strong, even before you were mine.” He scoffs, irritated with himself. “But I took your strength for granted. Made it mean that you didn’t need me, not really. Not in the way that mattered.”
“I chose to make our relationship secondary. To let you bleed to the back of my life, when in my mind you were always the front.” Garrick’s thumb begins to stroke your cheek as his voice becomes reflective. “In the end though, my actions spoke far louder than any of my words. I told you that you were my world, and you still are. Always will be. But I never treated you that way. I never put you before what I considered my duty.”
Rising from the bed, Garrick begins pacing, as though the words can only come if he keeps moving, if he keeps himself in the reflective moment he seems to be caught up in.
“I’ve always followed Xaden. Always been his right hand. Just like my dad was Fen’s. But never once did I ever stop and really look to see what that meant. How the rest of the people in my life fit into that dynamic. Never had to.” He pauses, eyes coming back to find yours.
“That was until you came around.” He says coming back towards you. “Not until you made me begin to question things. Question what I was trying to prove, why I was always the one following orders, not giving some of my own. I let my own life fade into unimportance, everything that wasn’t detrimental to the mission quickly forgotten.”
“You taught me that. The way you left me standing in the courtyard, devastated that the one piece of my life that truly mattered slipped through my fingers at my own doing.” The way his eyes glaze begins to pull at the ropes tied tightly around your heart. “Every single moment of happiness that I’ve experienced with you drowned out by the realization that I tore everything apart. The weight on my chest from not knowing you were hurt, not knowing that I could’ve lost you and I would’ve been none the wiser. I’ll never forgive myself.”
Its then that the healer comes strolling back in, causing Garrick to step back away from your cot.
“Sorry to disturb.” An aged male voice greets as you see Nolon walk into the room behind the healer. “But I’m sure you’ll both be glad to get back to the rider’s quadrant quickly after this. After all, I believe there will be raucous celebrations tonight.”
You give him a tight smile as he stops when he’s flush with your cot. “I’ll be able to calm some of the inflammation, but the bruising will still be there for some time. But before we begin, go ahead and take this.” Nolon finishes as he brings a small vial forward with a clear liquid.
You nod your head in understanding and take the vial from him. Knocking the liquid back, you swallow and lay your head back down and he raises his hands to your face. The power of mending begins to pass through your body and there’s no way to stop your body from tensing through the pain. Your jaw clenched, your hands fall to the sheets below you, and you grip them with white knuckles.
The feeling of a large palm covering your hand has you releasing its tight grip, but soon regaining it intertwined in Garrick’s hand. You try not to squeeze too hard, but as the zip of mending continues the pulsing pain around your eye, you can’t help the whimper of pain. Though instead of your hand tightening further in Garrick’s, his curls around yours harder as if trying to take the pain for himself.
A few more minutes tick by before the magic around your face begins to fade and you are able to open your unaffected eye with clear vision. As you blink the sting of tears away, you are finally able to see Garrick clearly and you can’t help the way your breath catches at the sight.
Gone is the stoic leader who exudes power and strength, in his place is a man that looks wrecked from sleepless nights and personal torment. It’s impossible for you not to reach for him, your hand that he still has in his pulling him forward. Your other hand rises as he shifts to his knees next to your cot and goes to his face, cupping and stroking his stubbled cheek. Garrick surprises you by leaning into your touch, his eyes closing at the tenderness you’ve given him.
Your vision narrows to the sorrowful man in front of you, your eyes unable to move from his dim ones. Eyes that normally shone a bright gold and flecked with greens as deep as emeralds. The color has now dimmed to a dull honey, every single speck darkened to almost black.
“How did we get here?” You voice comes out as a rasp, a sound unlike your normally smooth tone.
Garrick’s eyes close as if overcome with emotion from your question.
“Letting anyone or anything come before you will always be my greatest regret. I just hope that someday, somehow you will be able to let me atone for every way I’ve failed you. Failed us.” The spark of hopefulness in his words put a sad smile on your face.
Garrick continues to burrow his face in your hand, a man starved for the only touch he’s been craving.
“What about Xaden and Sorrengail?” You ask, the question the thing that keeps you from willingly folding into the arms of the man in front of you.
“I’ll always try to protect them both, but I refuse to do it again at the expense of you. As I told Xaden, you are my responsibility. The only person I want to take care of.” He exhales the breath he seemed to be holding. “Never again will you feel like you aren’t my priority. Never again will you think you are less than the most important person in my life.”
Your hand snakes around the back of Garrick’s neck and you pull his face to yours, resting your foreheads together.
“Then take me back to my room, Section Leader.” There’s no mistaking the way Garrick tenses in your arms, his entire body ready for a blow that you know will never come. You can feel the way the wind whooshes out of him, an exhale believing that you are completely lost to him.
Garrick slowly nods and begins to stand. He holds his hand out and helps you rise from the cot. Wincing as the pull of the mending tugs at you, but you hold steady on your feet.
The silence between you grows thicker and thicker as you both continue back to the riders quadrant. Garrick’s footsteps click, though you can hear the hesitation in even those. As you ascend the stairs, his hand tightens on yours, the last seeming vestibule of your relationship that he is trying in every way not to lose.
Entering the landing of the second-year floor, you trudge to your door, pulling along a hesitant Garrick. You let your hand turn, the click of your lock unmistakable and Garrick pulls in a shaky breath behind you. A small smile gracing your lips, you pull him forward, his brows pulling in with confusion.
“I’m giving you a chance.” You state with conviction, turning as Garrick continues to grip your hand as a vice. “One chance. Prove yourself. Prove that you will put our relationship and yourself before the weight of the rest of the world, because at the end of the day, the world will only crush you if you let it.”
Before you have time to blink, your breath leaves your lungs as you are tugged against a hard chest. Garrick’s arms encircling your waist in a punishing grip, his face buried into the top of your hair.
“I will spend every day proving that you are my priority. You are my one love, my partner and the singular person I will drop anything and everything for.” The words rush out of Garrick, the singular conviction in his tone obvious.
Backing up one step, you are caught off guard again when Garrick’s lips slam into yours. The kiss claiming in a way that you’ve never experienced before. The desperation, hope, and utter happiness leaching through every movement of his lips on yours.
He lifts you up by your thighs and your legs instinctually wrap around his waist, his strong arms balancing your weight with ease. A smile breaks out over your lips and as you part, you don’t miss the dimple, that is your undoing, making an appearance.
Your hands stroke his cheeks as you watch the light slowly climb back into his eyes, the tension seeming to melt from every pore. Smiling back at each other, you refuse to focus on anything but the hope that has settled in your bones.
Hope for Garrick’s commitment. Hope for peace. Hope for your future. And finally, the hope that you will never be without the man you’re wrapped around ever again.
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