I'll Give It All
When Brennan and Naolin lined up to fight in the Battle of Aretia, neither expected what was to come, or that only one of them would leave the battlefield alive.
It's here y'all - baby's first Brennaolin fic! Start reading below or read the full fic on AO3.
Standing on the edge of the cliffs, I felt my heart beat against my ribs. Wind whipped into my back from the roiling waters far below and heavy mist kissed my heated neck. There was no escaping the onslaught that faced us. Knowing I had moments before he had to mount Tairn, the giant dragon’s morningstartail flicking with agitation through the electricity-laden air, I looked to my left. He stood there, as he always did, hands flexing at his sides. Tairn chuffed, viciously calculating the battle ahead with focused anticipation, but I only had eyes for one man. Naolin stood tall, eyes forward to stare intently at the oncoming forces. The wind blew his hair forward, and it caressed his cheek the way my hand had the night before. I could still feel his skin beneath my touch, hot and wanting. Still feel him above me. But now was not the time for such thoughts. Running my thumb along my chin to dissipate the nervous energy I turned to stare forward again. My body ached to turn back, but I knew it was not smart. Without me having to ask, Naolin stepped closer, his fingers closing around mine in a death grip loaded with promise. Just that simple touch opened my lungs and I took my first deep breath in who knew how long. “Whatever it takes,” Naolin said softly beside me, determination resounding in his words. Unable to resist, I glanced sideways and saw the same resolution set in his brow, in the way his head angled forward with a slight tilt. It was the same look he’d worn when he’d first met me, and when he claimed me as his soon after. I closed my eyes, allowing myself to remember that moment, just for a second. It’d been halfway through my second year, the first time I was sent out to man an outpost because the war had come too close. They’d chosen me because of my mending abilities, knowing the casualty list would be high, but before then I’d only mended classmates. War games came close, but nothing could ever compare to the real thing. The first thing I remembered when we arrived that afternoon were the screams. Three riders lay out on the stones before me, all mortally wounded. I had to pick who to try and mend first, and I just froze. Marbh coaxed me on, pushing his power into my relic. It burned, but still, I couldn’t choose. A rider stepped forward then. I remembered that his eyes were kind, understanding. That was an uncommon feature in a rider. Just a glimpse of that look had me jumping into action. I couldn’t explain why, or how. I saved two of them, losing the third before I could reach them. Three became ten became too many to count. A soft pulse of energy joined that of Marbh’s power flowing through my signet. Light had dawned on the next day before I began to mend the wound that kind-eyed rider had been hiding, slicing him from shoulder to just below his pant line. I’d been exhausted, nearly burnt out by then.
Finish the fic on AO3.
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