BLUE ICE | Fourth Wing | Ridoc POV
I would like to introduce you to my fourth wing fanfiction.
Rating: Explicit, 18+
Words: 9,617+
Chapters: 6/19
Tags: m/m, m/f, humor, angst, friendship, humor, fluff & smut, loss
Paring: Ridoc / Liam, Riodc / Tyvon
I know, I know the Ridoc x Liam pairing is kinda unusal but let me cook ;)
This work describes the events of the first book (Fourth Wing) from the point of view of Ridoc Gamlyn. This story will be about how Ridoc experiences the first year at Basgiath War College and falls for Liam Mairi. The story begins in the queue outside the parapet on Conscription Day, where Ridoc and Liam meet.
Warnings: Fights, violence, love, sex, grief.
It is a slow burn between Ridoc and Liam. However, it's a fast burn between Ridoc and Tyvon. The first spice is delivered in chapter 6.
Apparently, that was too quick for the trainer’s liking, so he sends in the next opponent. And again, within seconds—though with a bit more contact—Liam has the upper hand. The other cadet ends up face-down, arms pinned, Liam pressing down on his back.
I bite my lip. By the gods, if he would only do that to me—
“Try not to drool,” a voice whispers into my ear. I flinch and whip around, coming face to face with Tyvon’s olive-green eyes and mischievous grin. He was standing right behind me, and now he’s just as close in front.
I feel caught. That must be written all over my face because his grin widens, his gaze sharpens.
“Not that I blame you,” Tyvon murmurs, glancing past me at Liam, still pinning down the other rookie.
He tilts his head slightly as he looks back at me. There’s something in that look that sends a delicious chill down my spine.
“I missed your turn on the mat,” he says with a sigh, stepping back just a bit.
“I’m sure you’ll get another chance,” I reply.
Unlike me, Tyvon isn’t in training clothes. He is wearing the black leatherwear for riding. His blond hair is tousled, slicked back messily. He’s draped his leather jacket over one arm, and his black shirt clings to the muscles of his abdomen. He must’ve come straight from dragon riding training. He stands so close I can clearly smell the earthy, sulfurous scent clinging to him. This must be what a dragon smell like.
“Well, looks like there’s nothing else here worth watching,” he says, letting his eyes travel over me. He bites down gently on his pale lower lip, then leans in just a bit closer. I hold my breath for a second as he speaks again.
“At least the showers will be empty for now. For the next half an hour, anyway.”
His voice, the flick of his tongue over his lips, and the glint in his eyes—there’s no mistaking the invitation. It’s too good to be true.
Before I can say anything, he turns and walks off. I turn with him, watching as he heads toward the showers, past the long line of sparring mats and fighting cadets.
For a moment, my eyes flick back to the mat where Liam is now facing off against a junior cadet. Then I look back at Tyvon. He’s reached the door and is looking over his shoulder, back at me.
I let his gaze pull me and follow him into the showers.
