Archive of Our Own

Chapter Text

Sloane

Even now I can still feel the weight of my mother’s hand in mine. The way her fingers would curl around the chubby stumps of my own fingers. The way my little hand would cling to hers and then my father’s as they swung me between them, into the sky. I would fly with the power of those hands, the hands I knew would never drop me.

Perhaps that is why so much of my adult life so far has been fixated on hands.

The ones that hold with strength, like Liam’s hand had done. 

Or the ones that belonged to the bastards who dragged me from my parents. The hands that held me in place while those we loved burned.

The hands of my foster family, who held me down, pinched me, hit me or simply held them out to remind me my place in life, beneath them.

I would dream of my parents and find in the place between dreams and consciousness I could feel their hands in mine.

I would rejoice in the smuggled letters from Liam, from my friends, my marked family. The words by their hands sustained me through my darkest days. The promise of their embraces when it came time for my turn to cross the parapet beat resistance in my chest, especially in the moments where my eyes were forced to lower and my tongue to hold back words I longed to say. After years of being kept under the booted restrictions of a foster family, I prepared in the dark hours for the fight I was so desperate to take into my own hands.

Mairi’s are fighters and by the gods I will do them proud.

Liam's letters stopped the day he went to the quadrant, but Imogen's letters arrived in their stead and kept me hopeful, she would tell me of Liam's strength, power and fight. Her hand would convey so much more than words to the darkness of my horrid existence. 

But the one thing I have learnt throughout my life is that the hand of fate is the cruelest of all.

Liam gone, just days before we were meant to reunite.

Instead of his steadying hands gripping my shoulders as his beautiful face smiled, I was left bloodied and raw, horrified when the first lick of flames singed my hair, the orange dragon’s warning to us all.

I’m not scared of dragons, my mother was a rider, Liam was a rider and I will be too. I will be as fierce as my mother and as loyal as my brother.

Navarre under-estimated me, the strength of my heart, the unwavering resolve and then they put a sword in my hand.

At first, this probably seemed a laughable decision. The lily white of my own hands was unspoiled, petted, and protected. Untouched, unmarked and unprepared. Blood had never been spilt by my hands.

The hands that found me, had.

In those first weeks and months, I was beaten, bloodied and bested more times than I can recollect.

A wearisome routine of shame.

My ears burned with the sound of their disappointed voices.

I was a failure. 

I was no fighter, not the way they were with their fists and knives.

And everyone treated me like one. I saw it in their eyes. I was Liam's sister to them, he was wonderful and talented and the best fighter in his year. And I was... nothing like that. I was ruined by grief. Hollow without the lifespark of my brother. 

I saw their own unresolved grief and anger, felt it pushed on me.

I had lost more than most of them could ever imagine and unlike their grief, it didn't begin and end with Liam.

It was much older and rougher than that. It was not a burden that stopped me in my tracks, it was the fire that had pushed me to drink in breath each day when I could have given up. Besides, I had endured far worse things in my life than anything this place could dish up. 

Usually I didn't care about the number of times I was beaten down, for as long as I had the gumption to get back up again, I would be alright. But today, as I lay in a pool of my own blood and spit, I didn't push up, I didn't move. Every part of my body hurt. Not the dull ache I'd become accustomed to. This time it stung, like every inch of my skin was covered in paper cuts submerged in vinegar, just the way my awful foster sister used to do. 

'Fuck off.' I told my friends who came to help me. 'Just leave me here.'

Feet shuffled around me, more people nudging me with hands and boots. 'Come on Mairi, get up.'

'Fuck off.'

Even Emetterio kneels beside me. I tell him to go the same way. 

'Stop bleeding all over my floor Mairi, get your sorry ass to the healers and come back tomorrow with a better attitude.'

I flip him the bird.

I don't move.

Until a strong, calloused hand reaches down and plucks me to my feet, unrelenting fury in the hazel eyes that meet my gaze. Voice strong, firm and unwavering as he had been since the moment we had literally crashed into each other in the hall the night of my conscription day. I didn't know who he was, or what he was then. Imogen quickly availed me of the truth after telling him to leave me the hell alone. ‘You will not give in without a fight. Your life is worth more than this. You have to try.’

I open my mouth to tell him to fuck off when the world spins around me. I would have fallen face-first onto the stone if his hands hadn't tightened around me. 

'Come on Mairi, let's get you to the healers. You can spit fire at me tomorrow.' I vaguely remember something about my arm being flung around a pair of broad, hard shoulders, steady hands at my waist. 

'I don't need your help!' I snarl at him, spitting every cussing profanity in Tyrrish I can think of.

I am rewarded with an eye roll. 'You're welcome to walk yourself there. But I figured you'd prefer the opportunity to finesse your expletive-laden insults.'

'Oh I'm just getting started.' I assure him, hating how instinctively my grip tightens as my feet wobble. 'Besides... how did you know that's what I was saying?'

His stupid, pretty, unfairly gorgeous face looks momentarily affronted. 'You think I can't understand what you're saying?'

'Of course you would understand Tyrrish. Blessed, devoted servant of duty. Bet Daddy is real proud of you.'

He doesn't bite. More often than not, my snarks are met with silence. I'm not sure if it's because he's decided not to bother, or because he doesn't know what to say. Either way I'm taking silence as a win. Gotta take what you can.

I try to focus on the path before my feet, shoving off him only to stumble and be caught again.

'Easy Mairi, it's probably a concussion.'

'Had enough of them to know that myself, thanks smart ass.'

'Then you would also know that it's best to avoid getting many more of them.'

'I had no fucking idea. Thank the gods you are here wingleader, to educate me.'

Dain Aetos sighs, he looks tired and not just of my attitude. 'Pretty sure no one else gives thanks for that.'

I risk a dizzy sideways glance, and there's a sadness heavy in his features. Usually, I get more from being introduced face-first to the stone flooring than his rather genetically fortunate features. 'Are you asking for sympathy? What could you possibly have to be miserable about?'

'Oh nothing for sure Mairi. Just enjoying another moment of your delightful conversation.'

'Fuck off.'

'Case in point.'

'I don't want your help.'

'I gathered as much.'

'And I don't need it.'

'You want to make it to Threshing you're gonna need someone's help. I don't care if it's mine or Cardulo's, Durran's or anyones. Just let your pride go for a moment. Whatever you were doing before this moment has clearly not equipped you for anything. The cadets you're coming across have spent their lives training for this. If you want to make it, you have to keep trying, not just getting your ass kicked, but trying to improve. Take help until you don't need any more. You're smart and quick, put that to your advantage. No one is going to cheer you on for having spirit if you keep getting flattened. Turn that into something useful, before you get carried out in a body bag.'

'For a motivational speech that sucked.'

'I don't do speeches.' He retorts sharply as we round the all too familiar corner on the way to the infirmary. 

'Sermon does suit you better.'

'Getting angry at the world won't make anything better.'

'Tried it have you?'

'Just try Mairi, for God's sake try.'

The healer who appears at the entrance to the infirmary takes one look at me and rolls her eyes. 

'Yup back again!' I declare flourishing my battered body at her. 'Which part you wanna start with today?'

'Cadet Mairi likely has a concussion.' I swear I hear Aetos mutter 'Among other things' as he hands me over to the healer. 

The healer nods understandingly. 'I had your regular bed put aside as soon as the challenges were announced, in preparation.'

'Oh good, I hate to be a disappointment.'

'I don't suppose you have a tonic for attitude, Cadet Mairi seems to have an oversupply.' Aetos remarks dryly over my head. 

'I'll see what I can do for you Wingleader.' The healer smiles at him with a fondness which implies they've met a number of times before.

'Mairi, try not to give them too much grief.'

'Hard when I'm an apparently an expert.' 

His expression pinches slightly as my tone and words hit right where I wanted them to.

Aetos doesn't say another word, just turns and makes his way down the corridor, shoulders dropping slightly.

I ignore the pang in my chest, just another side effect of having the shit kicked out of me, no doubt.

The day roll into another, and another. Blue black bruises fade to purple and then to brown. My cuts weep and harden at the close. And then they are broken open again. My nose is broken and healed. And somehow throughout all of this my heart keeps beating, and my lungs keep drawing breath. 

I live to fight another day.

Sorrengail steals my first victory and my self belief, over protective bitch that she is. Using my brother's letters against me is abhorrent. Even if I could forgive her for getting him killed, for being the person he was told to protect, to his death. I don't think I could forgive her keeping the last pieces of him from me. She says it's encouragement for my training, incentive for surviving. She has no idea the cruelty of it. In every punch, I imagine it's her. I imagine that for a moment she could understand the pain of existing. That when they tell me to fight, they have no idea the exhaustion I feel. I've been fighting for so long, it's no longer a request, its a state of being. And for the first time, I feel tired by it. 

I swallow my pride.

I allow Imogen to help me. Imogen’s hands bind my own, and curl my fists until I am strong enough to fight. Night after night, she takes me to the sparring mats, sending my useless ass flying. Sorrengail leaves me be. A small mercy. 

Aetos watches from a far. Occasionally, we cross paths, he doesn't say anything and I flip him the bird.

Imogen catches the movement and tells me I have a lot of anger, so much she wonders how it can fit in my tiny, pathetic, broken body. I flip her off and tell her I'm glad for my anger, I plan on taking it out on the world. 

I make it through my matches, my classes, my head held above water. I survive. 

I will survive to Threshing. I promise myself. 

I will bond a dragon.

I will make them pay for underestimating me.

I will show Sorrengail I don't need her. I don't need her guilt, her protection, her anything. 

I will do this and show them all just what strength lies in Sloane Mairi's veins. 

And then I see the Gauntlet. 

And I wonder if I have got this after all.

'Thought you deserved this one.' Sorrengail hands me another of Liam's letters the week before Gauntlet.

'Reckon you should give them all to me, you know just in case I die.' My hands still ache from barely holding on during the practice. 

'You're not going to die.'

'Well I sure as hell aren't going to be the fastest through gauntlet like him.'

'Sloane I'm trying...'

'Just stop Sorrengail. Stop. I don't need whatever the fuck this is that you're trying to do. Absolve yourself some other way than this.' I snatch my letter and shove her out of the dorm. 

'You could try being a little nicer.' My roommate, Visia, remarks softly.

'Why change the habit of a lifetime?' I retort. I slip the letter into my pocket and then tug on my jacket. 

'Going out?' Ava asks.

'Sure am.'

'It's after curfew.' Ava cautions.

'And I care because?'

'If they catch you -'

'No one is going to catch me. I'm quick. It's one of my good traits.'

'The only one.' Lynx mutters.

'I dunno, she's kinda pretty.' Aaric offers. 

I flip them all the bird and let myself out into the corridor. Considering I'm surrounded on all sides by supposed killing machines, keeping guard is clearly not one of their skills.

I make it out of the college and into the grounds without even sighting a single person. I sit under the glow of the beautiful moon and read the words my brother kept safe for me. This one he tells me about his Threshing, about finding Deigh and how he hopes that I will find my own dragon, preferably a red too. My face hurts with the smile that I always get when I finish his letters, it's usually followed by a stupid blurring of my vision with tears I will never cry. Instead, I count the stars, name the constellations, remind myself of who I used to be - a little girl who dreamed of flying amongst the stars.

A red dragon flies overhead, a soft rumble disturbs the silence, as if it too can feel the misery in my heart.

I watch the elegant flare of the wings as it hides the stars from my eyes. There's a small tear in one of the wings, a scar. I wonder where from, how it happened, and if it still hurts. Do scars ever stop aching?

I let my imagination wander, it's been years since I flew. Mum used to take me before ...

My hands itch to hold the pommel, to feel the scales and feel the freedom that flight always brought to my heart. I just know, if they give me a chance, I will be a brilliant rider. I'll be just like Mum. I will work my ass off to be as good as her. 

The dragon slows, and I know the golden eyes see me, this tiny dot on the ground under the looming walls of the college. I am tugged to my feet by an invisible string, a desire that I cannot claim as entirely my own, and I follow my feet. I know this path, I've been here before. I come to a halt at the beginning of the Gauntlet, and my heart shudders. I've taken the course during the light, we've been practicing for over a week, I've not finished the course yet, I'm always stuck on the fourth ascent.

Staring in the dark, this whole thing looks more terrifying than in the light. 

'Who am I kidding...' I breathe to the night, to the dragon that pauses, wings pulsing in the air as it watches me. 

It's almost as if the dragon shakes its head, the golden eyes meet mine and I am compelled to reach forward to the first obstacle, a fifteen-inch spinning log. 

'I want it more than you can imagine.' I say to the dragon. 'I need this.'

The dragon bows its head almost as if it has heard and understands not only my words but the feelings convulsing through my body. Its huge wings pound a beat, and it disappears towards the Vale. 

'Yeah... I'd give up on me too.' I frown as my hands settle around the cold wood of the log, slightly slippery with the dewy night air. 

Liam's letter knocks heavily in my pocket as I turn away from the log. 'I'm sorry Li, I'm not you.'

For a moment, I can almost feel the weight of someone beside me. The warmth and throb of the air beside me, and I feel in the aching of my heart that his spirit is here with me. Malek give me that. I don't care if it is imagined, it feels real. I am not alone. 

'Fine, fine.' I mutter and launch myself forward across the log. Perhaps it's lunacy to attempt this at night. But by the light of the stars, I feel almost at peace. I am not alone, Liam is here with me. It's slippery, but I've got this first one, the quicker I go, the steadier I am. It's just like sprinting across the fallen logs in the forest, like we used to as children. The granite pillars are easy, like jumping from the crumbling parts of the ruins that lay in the fields behind our house. Before I was taken to the odious foster family , I used to run the forest and climb trees with my brother and all our friends. Perhaps I am not as useless at this as I am on the mat. I'm quick and sure of my hands, the pull I need to move from obstacle to obstacle. 

The wheel makes me nervous, but it's just a matter of timing, and after four attempts, I've got that down pat. The swinging balls are nothing more difficult than swinging from branch to branch from the forest, inbetween the trees like we used to do. 

I'm about to attempt the third ascent when I see the shadows of another figure.

Who else is crazy enough to be out here as well? There are lights on this ascent, it's not a first year attempting the course. 

'Should have figured you'd be the type to do this for fun.' I settle in the space between the ascents as my companion stretches on the ledge. 

The warmth that had accompanied me up the course so far, slowly dissipates beside me. I whisper goodbye to the stars.

'Mairi.'

'You did know you don't have to do this course again, right?' I can't help but let my eyes sweep across his frame. 'Don't Wingleaders ever stop?'

Dain Aetos looks at me with confused surprise. 'Didn't think I'd be seeing you out here.'

'Because I'm halfway up the gauntlet or because it's after curfew.' I challenge.

'Both.'

'You didn't think I could make it.' I snap. Of course he doesn't.

'On the contrary, I think you're going to rival your brother for the patch if you keep up as well as you're going.' His expression softens, is it almost proud? Nope I've surely imagined that.

I shake my head with a snort. 'No one believes that.'

'I do.'

'Hit your head, did you?'

'You've never given me reason to doubt you. You're the most determined person I've ever met.' He pauses with a small wry smile. 'Chaotic but determined.'

Not a single word crosses my mind in defensive retort.

Not a single fucking word.

'What was your time?' I ask instead. Deflection as good as attack.

'Mid range.' He admits.

'You mean you didn't finish first?'

'No. I was just glad to be finished.' Aetos admits. 'Never particularly enjoyed the third ascent. Fourth is easy enough, but this next one is a bitch for the timing.'

'And that's why you're back here?'

'To prove I still can. I don't think it hurts to remind yourself how close you came to not making it.'

I watch the way he shifts in the night air. He looks flat, tired, more so than usual. I'm not one for empathising with someone like him, and yet I almost do.

'And can you?' I say instead.

'Yes.' He bends to take a swig of water from a water skin. 'You planning on doing the whole course by moonlight?'

'Seems as good an idea as any.'

'Couldn't sleep?'

I shake my head and settle on the ground to stretch my legs. 'You gonna lecture me about being out after curfew?'

'No.'

It's with genuine surprise that I look up at him. 'No? How many infractions should I get for being here right now?'

He shrugs. 'Doesn't matter as you're not getting any.'

'Why are you being nice to me?' I ask cagily.

He shrugs, turning away from me, back towards the course. 

'Seriously.' I press in annoyance.

'Because maybe I'm not such an asshole like everyone seems to think I am.' He snaps back. 'Sorry, that wasn't directed at you.'

'You sure? Kinda felt like it.'

'Maybe I'm just tired of always being and playing the role everyone else expects of me, when that isn't what I'm like underneath.' He says softly this time. 

'Nah I'm pretty sure you're an asshole inside.' I get to my feet. 'Why else would you have swapped me into your wing so I would have to put up with Sorrengail all the time?'

He frowns and there's something else in his expression that pinches with pain, regret. 'I didn't do it for her.'

'She has his letters. Liam's letters.' I don't know why I'm telling him, but the letter feels heavy in my pocket. 'She's bribes me to train with them. They're mine. She's no right to them. She stole them from me.'

Aetos's expression darkens. 'I'm not the person you should be talking to about that.'

'Because you stole her memories.'

'You know that?'

'It's my brother, don't you think I have a right to know?' I challenge.

'It was never my intention -'

'Look, I'm not interested in half-assed apologies. He's gone. I have to live with that. And I'm done with people seeing me only as Liam's little sister. It gets too addled in grief, their grief. I stop existing as myself there. If you're truly sorry you won't treat me like that.' I glare at him. 

He nods slowly, solemnly and his eyes flick skyward for a moment as if he is making a promise to the gods. 

'So.' I push up to my feet. 'You can either join me or get out of my way, I'm gonna try the next ascent.'

'Be careful of the swing. Go arm over arm, swing to get the momentum to get across. You'll need to jump up to the next bar.' He says, pointing to the ascent. 

'Got it.' I flick my arms out and start. 'You coming or just sitting on your ass Aetos?'

'Didn't figure you wanted my company.' He retorts sharply. 

'Need someone to witness my success.'

Something that sounds like almost a half chuckle sounds from behind me. And then I hear him moving. I swing faster, following his instructions to the letter, I don't slip, I don't fall. I don't need the ropes to save my ass plummeting to the ground.

My arms burn as I launch from bar to bar, but I've got this. Perhaps those extra weight sessions with Imogen, as well as the sparring practice is counting for something.  

'Nice work.' Aetos remarks as we halt before the fourth ascent on the gravel path. 

'You don't even sound surprised.' I pout.

'I'm not. I knew you had this.' 

The sun crests in the sky above the horizon as I finally pull my sorry ass above the final ascent and onto the ground.

My lungs ache with every gasping rasping breath, my arms and legs are shaking, quivering so hard I don't know I can stand. But I'm smiling. Actually smiling. I've done it. 

Aetos plonks down on the ground beside me, his hair is mused, his skin shimmering with a sheen of sweat, but he too is smiling. He looks so much younger, perhaps it's the way the way the light touches his eyes making the hazel, sparkle with lighter honey flashes. Maybe it's the way the skin crinkles, tightening around the corners of his eyes. I should look away. But I can't. I don't want to. I've never seen this side of him before. I assumed a smile would crack his face. That he was one of those people who never smile. Sour-faced and serious. This other side of him is confusing and unnerving. 

He looks away from me, to the sky, propped on his palms, arms stretched behind him. I am absolutely, most certainly, not staring at the carved ropes of muscle that make up those ridiculously and utterly unfairly defined forearms. 

He is still smiling. My toes curl in my boots, I didn't realise they could move any more.

Gods... this smile is the most beautiful sight I've ever seen. A genuine smile of a man who has spent his night hauling ass beside me, correcting, helping me, catching me when I slipped. I didn't ask. I would never have asked. And yet he didn't leave me. He was there. A steady force beside me.

And Gods if I don't know what to do with that. 

'Did it.' I hurl the words with exhausted excitement to the world between us instead. 

'You did. Good job there Mairi.'

'I'm fucking exhausted now.' I admit. 'Can't lift my arms.'

'You've still got to get back down now.'

I groan and roll onto my stomach to push up slowly, only to fail. 'Nope. I think I'll stay here.'

I watch out of the corner of my eyes as he gets up with significantly more energy than I have. 'Come on Mairi, you don't want to miss breakfast.'

I don't actually, but that's not something I'm going to admit to him. 'You have to get your ass down as well.'

'Nah.' He smirks. There, behind him, is a huge red swordtail. Shit, not sure how I missed him landing. 'Cath will take me.'

I haul myself to my feet and stare in amazement at the dragon. 'He's beautiful.'

Aetos chuckles softly as Cath makes a deep-throated sound that rumbles around us. 'He says of all the ways he has been described in his years, beautiful is not one of them.'

'My mother was a rider.' I say softly. 'She had a red too.'

'And Liam as well.'

Cath grumbles something low as he dips his head slightly towards me. 

'Deigh was from Cath's den. He wishes to share his condolences with you.' Aetos translates softly. 

'Thank you.' I whisper. 'I wish I could have flown with him.'

Cath's snout swirls in my direction, he lowers his gaze and his head until he is level with me. I don't shun my gaze, I know I'm supposed to, but I'm not afraid. Aetos doesn't caution me. If anything he takes a step back to give me space with his dragon. I reach forward and press my palm tentatively against the tip of Cath's snout. A warm blast of steam swirls around me. For a moment, I'm still, I feel everything. The world is silent, still and golden.  

Cath nudges my hand off his snout and then takes two steps backwards, before curling his head back towards his rider. Aetos tilts his head, he's talking to Cath, I remember the expression, the movement from when my Mum would do the same. Then Cath launches. 

'So no lift, huh?' I ask, staring as the red speck becomes smaller in the sky. 

'Nope.' Aetos smiles slightly. 'Looks like we're walking.'

'Not together.' I set off in front of him. 

'I can show you a short cut.' He offers. 'But if you want to go your way, I'll meet you in the great hall after finishing my breakfast.'

'Asshole.' I shoot back over my shoulder. 

'Your choice.'

I role my aching shoulders and turn to face him. 'I go with you and you go easy on me in sparring today.'

'Not a chance.' He smirks. 'You chose not to sleep.'

'I really do mean it when I call you an asshole. How can you possibly be so - you know - functional on no sleep and running the gauntlet that many times? You a masochist or something?'

'Yeah, something.' The amusement wipes from his expression, and suddenly I'm filled with regret. Weird. 

'Alright, alright.' I nudge my shoulder into his bicep as I pull alongside him. 'But don't think I actually want to be seen with you. Once I get my bearings, I'm off.'

'Got it.' But there's a sadness in his voice that has me glancing back up. 'I don't expect anyone to stay around.' And then whispered so softly I don't know if I'm imagining it. 'They never do.'

I stop, hating the way the organ in my chest tightens in sympathy. 'Is that why you do it?' 

'What?'

'Hover?' I cross my arms to stop myself from doing something stupid. Like touching him. 

'Maybe.' He shrugs. 'It isn't important.'

Perhaps not to him, but it says a lot about the man. Someone I know the others are more than happy for me to hate. A man I should hate by virtue of his name, his place in all this. And yet I can't bring myself to hate him, not any more, not that I'm sure I ever truly did. 

We walk in silence - strangely comfortable silence - back to the college before going our separate ways. I feel his eyes on my skin as I cross the entry way to find my friends. I catch a glimpse of Imogen returning from her run with Sorrengail. They are met by Bodhi. I hang back to watch their strange little grouping disappear. Their heads are bowed in discussion, something worrying in the way Imogen frowns and the way Bodhi takes guard behind Sorrengail.

My skin crawls. Something is afoot. 

When I ask Imogen about it during our training later that day, she tells me it's nothing. There is nothing going on, and I should focus on my training and getting my sorry limp ass through Threshing. 

I ambush Bodhi later and ask him the same question. 

'I want to help, whatever it is.' I say, corralling him in the stairwell up to the third years' dorms. 

'There's nothing to help with.' He takes a step away dismissively. 

'You would have trusted Liam!' My voice cracks into a snarl as I follow him. 

'That was different -'

'How the fuck was it different?' I grab the front of his jacket and haul myself up two steps to set us eye to eye. 'I have known you since we were children, Bodhi Durran, don't you fucking dare freeze me out now.'

For a second, I think he's going to box my ears, instead, he grumbles frustratedly and shoves me down the corridor to an empty study room. 'I can't tell you anything yet Sloane.'

'Why not? You don't trust me? But you trust fucking Sorrengail?' 

'Sloane...'

'It's because of Xaden, isn't it? Pulling the strings, even when he's not here. She's his, and he would do anything for her. She's not one of us Bodhi!'

'She is now.'

The finality of his tone sends shivers down my spine. 'What?'

'Finish reading the letters from Liam, and perhaps he can explain it better than I can.' Bodhi puts his hand on my shoulder softly before tugging me into a tight embrace. 

I burrow into his chest, into his arms and heave a shaky breath. I remember this. I remember this embrace, the safety of arms like this.  

'There is so much that I can't explain Sloane, it isn't safe. You can't know yet. Trust us. Trust what we are doing is for all of us. And when we need you, I will bring you in on everything. I promise.'

'Swear on your mother's life.' I demand. 

'I swear it on her life and mine.' He just about squashes me in a hug. 'Gods Sloane, you have no idea how we've missed you, how we wanted you back with us. It's all he thought about, all he ever wanted.'

'Clearly not enough.' The tears sting in my eyes and the way Bodhi cuddles me tighter is the final straw and I hold nothing back. I sob like a baby. Just the way I have been holding back since I arrived. 'He didn't want me enough to stay, to stay safe. He put her first. He knew I was waiting for him... It's not fair! It's fucking not fair!'

'No, it's not.' Bodhi rubs my back and lightly presses his lips into my hair, just the way he used to as a child. 'None of this is fair Sloane. None of it.'

'Promise me it's worth it. Whatever it is you are doing. Promise me.' My fingers curl into the front of his jacket. 

'I promise. It will be worth it.' He nods.

I push out of his embrace and wipe my streaming eyes on the back of my sleeve. 'Better fucking be.'

'And none of us mean to keep you at a distance.' Bodhi wraps his arm around my shoulders as I try to steady my breathing. 'But it's for the best. For now.'

'I trust you and Imogen.' I whisper with a short nod. 'Just don't leave me in the dark, on my own.'

'We won't.'

'I've been stuck there too long Bodhs.'

'I know sweetheart.' He hugs me again. 'Gods do we know and we are so fucking sorry we couldn't get you out with us. But Lady Mairi is a hard person to disappear.'

'I'm here now.' I sniff and straighten my spine. 'And I'm going to show them, every single fucking one of them.'

'That's our girl.' Bodhi smiles. 

We stay in that room for some time. He asks me about training, about the gauntlet in particular, and if I have a feeling about Threshing. I tell him about the dragon that followed me to gauntlet practice this morning. I don't mention Aetos. It doesn't seem right. 

Finally when Bodhi seems suitably convinced that I'm not going to burst into another ocean of tears, and clearly when the red splodges aren't quite so noticeable he motions towards the door. 'I'm sorry I have to go Sloane, but I'm here whatever and whenever you need.'

'Don't shut me out.'

'I won't Sloane. Just bear with us, ok?'

I nod, though it's more of a noncommittal movement at this stage, it does not go unnoticed, and his hand swallows mine, looping around my fingers and squeezing tightly. I follow him out of the room.

'You shouldn't be up here.' Bodhi remarks softly as we are given a side-eye from a particularly unfriendly looking third-year. 'Don't want anyone causing you trouble. People might talk.'

'Let them. What do I care for talk?' I glower at the third-year who sends a backwards glance towards me. 

'They have ways of making you care.' He frowns. 'Want me to walk you back to your floor?'

'Like that won't make anyone talk.' I roll my eyes. 'I got the staircase Bodhs.'

He nudges me affectionately. 'Can't ever be too sure Mairi.'

'Yeah, yeah.' I take two steps away before returning for one last hug. 'Thanks for listening to me Bodhs. For taking me seriously.'

'Always kid. Now go. And keep out of trouble until at least after Threshing.'

'Can't promise miracles.' I smile. 

'Try?' He suggests instead.

*

Perhaps it is a miracle that I manage as he asked. No trouble settles at my door. I don't even end up at the healers after sparring practice. For the first time Imogen even says that I'm ready. I defeat another first year. Imogen goes so far as to tell me she is proud of my effort. And now, if I continue to apply myself I might actually survive past Threshing. High praise from her, to be sure. 

When the time comes to run the Gauntlet and presentation, I feel prepared, it's faster than I've had to run it so far. I slip a little more than once, it's nerves I tell myself, it has nothing to do with the other three cadets who fall from the Gauntlet during their runs and never stand again. I may not finish first but I’m damn close.

Walking through presentation, makes me feel as though I am five years old again, walking through the fields beside my mother towards her dragon. I bounce on my toes all the way through, desperate to find my red dragon again. Instead at the end of the day all I find myself is in fist cuffs with another first-year who insulted my heritage. In front of the dragons he said that I was not worthy to have made it this far. That the relic on my arm and my family's treacherous support of the Tyrrish cause meant the only thing I was worthy of was being burnt where I stood, sent to death by dragon fire just like my mother. 

That very same cadet targeted me the next day during Threshing. He followed me from the outset, as if his primary concern for the morning was not bonding a dragon but killing me.

Perhaps it was the blood still dripping from my hands that caught the gaze of my dragon at Threshing. I stood after knocking out my attacker, my shoulder bleeding and popped out of place, and there stood my red dragon with the scarred wing. 

You have fire Sloane Mairi. She preens, her words wrapping around my mind. And unbreakable strength. Lesser men have fallen from the wounds you carry.

I carry my scars with pride. I straighten and approach her slowly. 

As do I. My name is Thoirtiliach, or Thoirt, and I have been waiting for you. Her voice is warm, like mother's arms, and I feel a flood of love pulse between us. Mount up and we shall show them what trouble we shall cause.

Trouble?

We are not to be kept bound by the rules of mortals. We are not followers. There is too much spirit in your heart for that. There are many other dragons seeking to bond today, but none will understand the pain in your heart, the power of your spirit, and certainly no one will encourage as much fun as I will.

My lips break into a huge smile as I mount up her foreleg and take my position atop her back, clutching the pommel just as my mother taught me. Let's.

If it were possible for her to smile, I know she was smiling just as broadly as I am.

She launches into the sky, pooling blood red with the close of day. My pulse flutters in my ears, and I let out a cry of sheer exhilaration as we pivot through the clouds heading towards the landing field. I see a flash of red out of the corner of my eye and I glance across. 

Cathainach. Thoirt remarks, her voice heavy with sly mischief that I don't understand. He is one of the elders of my den.

And we respect as such? I ask curiously. 

She gives an affronted scoff. As an elder, no. He is grumpy as they come. But he was fond of your brother's dragon, as was I.

So begrudging acceptance of existence then?

Precisely.

I turn my head and see my wingleader watching me, smiling. He bows his head and I can see even from here the pride in his eyes. I did it. 

I am a rider.

For once, I offer him a smile back and not the bird. His gaze lingers. Softens. His smile does not falter.

I land amongst friends. Visia is the first I see and I fling my arms around her.

When I give my name to the roll keeper, the generals and officers who sanctioned my parent's death watch on. It takes every ounce of my strength not to flip them the bird. 

I am proud of your restraint. Thoirt says with amusement. 

It was difficult. I assure her.

No doubt as difficult as... I'm not particularly listening to her next words as I am sidetracked by the visual of Aetos landing nearby and approaching each of the successfully bonded cadets with a small professional smile. Why is it, I wonder, that this place is filled with what feels like the most attractive people in the continent and then feels it necessary to dress them in tight flight leathers?

Sorry what? I turn my attention back to her realising she was still talking.

As difficult as keeping your eyes off him. 

I send a spray of irritation back down the bond and she laughs in my mind. You cannot deny such things from me now love. I see what you see, and feel what you do. And never have I come across such a complicated mess as the feelings you have towards Cath's rider.

Yeah well, welcome to my world. Nothing but a complicated hot mess over here. I retort.

She retreats into the corners of my mind as my friends sweep me up and we barrel towards the college and a night of drinking. 

The last thoughts I have as I fling myself into my bunk are clear despite the alcohol. I will prove myself worthy. I will do the Mairi name proud. 

*

Having these powers tingling through my veins surpasses everything I've ever imagined. And I have spent a great deal of time imagining it. Once the first rush of excitement dulls, I turn my mind to the one thing I’ve been desperate to try since my mum was killed.

Thoirt. I tug tentatively on the stream of crimson in my mind. How is this whole having a dragon in your mind thing meant to work? Are we meant to mentally knock before barreling through with the millions of questions flurrying around my mind? Am I meant to respect the silence, are there topics I should avoid… what is the protocol around this communication?

You may reach for me whenever you wish. Thoirt’s crimson warmth wraps around me in my very core. I am always here with you, for you. I shall do my utmost to answer any and all questions. You are not intruding. You are my bonded, you are my primary concern.

I push affection down the bond to her. I’m sorry for so many questions.

Before you continue love, you never apologise to me for your questions or your fire. You will never apologise for being who and what you were born to be.

I’ll try not to. I just feel so… out of my depth?

You are only the second of my bonded ones. We get to figure this out together. Perhaps we should start with what you want to figure out when the moon is so high in the night sky?

I'm sorry to trouble you, I didn’t realise the hour.

I do not mind the night. The morning. I hear the caution in her tone already, I do not enjoy those.

I laugh. I understand completely.

I knew we would see eye to eye on a great many things. I can hear her smile. But my dear you are deflecting from your true question.

Do you know anything about protection runes?

Only that your mother was the maker of a rather extraordinary one.

I sigh, tugging the wild throng of power in my mind and trying to fashion a pattern with sheer will. I have been practicing the patterns in my needlepoint. I tell Thoirt. I had hoped it easy to bend the magic, mum always made it look easy.

She had great abilities obtained through practice.

You sound like Imogen.

Her and the fire heart have cause to recommend such consistent practice.

Fire heart?

The human who makes your heart lurch with much the same violence as our drop spiral.

I ignore the flush I feel burn my cheeks. I don’t know who you are talking about.

Of course not. She chuckles. Perhaps I should just ask my den mate…

No! No! There’s no need for that. I take a moment to steady myself. Why the nickname?

I have known him from afar since his arrival, I am aware of his lineage.

You knew his parents?

I know them.

And mine?

I knew your mother and brother of course.

Did you give them names as well?

I name only those important to you.

He’s nothing to me. Well nothing good…

Love I am with you in every sense, there is nothing you can hide from me.

You’re to be witness to be godsawful attempt at these runes.

It is admirable your enthusiasm for such a project.

But?

You got your powers but yesterday.

Every moment lost is a chance to protect someone.

Noble of you brave heart.

She taught me every pattern, I just know it. Every pattern for her runes, she was always drawing, always making new ones, adding layer upon layer like icing on a cake. She made sure I knew, made me practice so I would remember, so the patterns would be second nature. She told them that no one knew the runes, that the knowledge died with her but … my chest aches acutely with a tightness I’ve grown accustomed to: I can carry the weight of this pain, I’ve been doing it for years. Except with Thoirt curling around my mind I don’t have to do it alone. I know she was too clever for that, I know she would have taught me or left enough clues for Liam and I to put together: I owe it to them to try.

And we will do it together, Thoirt promises.

Together, I smile.

It’s been a long time since I had that.

*

My face tingles, my fingers are numb, smushed under the colossal weight of my head and my disappointment. The sun is already high, breaching the window of my dorm room. One glance at the clock reassures my suddenly thundering heart that yes I am indeed incredibly late. Another oversleep courtesy of a late night failing, repeatedly.

Not failure just not the correct attempt. Thoirt reminds kindly. You had a great deal of success with a minimising rune last night.

I can’t help but laugh when I see my copy of the Codex reduced to a tenth its original size. True but not what I wanted.

You are achieving far more than you give yourself credit for love, and that ridiculous document deserved all that and more.

Amen! I shuffle from my crouched position at my desk, my body loudly objects to the swift movements and I cuss furiously with enough gusto to make my great Uncle Leopold proud. Yesterday, I managed to hide my tardiness with a swift sprint to intermingle myself amongst the arriving hordes despite the aching in my painfully empty belly. This morning, not only have I over slept breakfast, but also most of my first class.

I fear there is more pressing distractions than your inability to rise with the dawn. Thoirt remarks, her voice sounding strangely distant.

Such as?

There is much to do in the Vale, the Empyrean grows restless. Some members are particularly boisterous.

That sounds ominous, I waver in my doorway, is it anything to be concerned about?

I am there trying to ascertain the very thing now.

Hopefully it’s nothing.

She hums a hopeful sound before withdrawing.

The hallways are deserted, the only sound is my new squeaky leather boots as I plod on the slate ground. I hate the stiff, uncomfortable new boots but - my rider's uniform I’m in love with. Tight leathers that make my ass look like a fucking masterpiece - if I don’t say so myself - are a damn sight better than the ridiculous lace trimmed carpets my foster family insisted on draping me in. I catch a glimpse of my reflection in the windows along this portion of the corridor and smirk. I may not like much at all about this place, but this uniform makes me look hot. I cannot wait to hit up Chantara in this, those infantry boys I have wrapped around my finger are going to lose it, though I must say I’m hoping for a better rendezvous location than the upstairs bathroom this time…

‘Mairi!’

Ugh.

I groan turning with a mocking smile. ‘This is a surprise! A fellow truant.’

‘What are you doing?’ Aetos closes the distance between us in four purposeful strides.

‘Avoiding class, the same as you.’

‘I don’t have time for games.’ He snaps. Like actually growls at me.

‘Woah, who shat in your breakfast?’ I hold my hands up, and take a step backwards.

‘What is going on?’ He demands.

‘I have no idea.’ I glance behind him. ‘It’s just us Aetos, so you don’t have to worry about being seen with me, so you can drop the dramatics.’

He grabs my arm rather roughly and all but drags me out of the corridor into a small stone alcove. I think for a split second about fighting the rather inflexible direction, but I know he’ll simply throw me over his shoulder and dump me unceremoniously in the same spot if I do, so I might as well retain some fragment of dignity.

I ready myself to deliver my most wilting glower when his attention is distracted behind him in the corridor. His fingers are twitching in fists at his side, and I’ve never seen him move so agitatedly. Usually stoically still, the version of the man in front of me is practically gyrating with nervous energy. When he turns to face me, I falter, my glower dissipates.

‘Somebody die?’

‘Something is going on. Something bad.’ He runs his fingers through his hair, the action seems as unfamiliar to him as it is to me.

‘I swear I didn’t do anything.’ I reply, not sure what he actually wants from me.

‘Leadership have scattered, called out of the college and beyond the wards. There are rumours…’

‘Of?’

‘Treachery.’

My heart stutters, a cold sweat beads on my forehead, and I hide my hands behind me. Bodhi. Imogen.

‘And naturally you assume we -’ I wriggle my arm with the relic. ‘Are behind it.’

‘No. I just -'

‘I know what you’re thinking, bloody typical Navarrian mentality, jumping to conclusions.’

‘It isn’t that Mairi -'

‘Sure it fucking isn’t.’ I shove at his chest, but he doesn’t move.

‘I'm asking you to trust me, what is going on?’

‘I don’t know why you think -'

‘The second years from your squad have vanished.’ His voice is low both in volume and tenor.

‘Really wingleader, how careless of you to have lost half of second squad.’

He crushes my jacket in his hands as he shoves me against the wall, pinning me inbetween the stone and his rockhard thigh. The air shunts from my lungs with an undignified grunt. But I’m not afraid, of this situation or him.

Gods above.

That move was fucking hot.

What is wrong with me?

‘Promise me, you’ve nothing to do with this. Promise me!’

The demand catches me off guard. ‘What?’

‘I’m not an idiot, something is happening. I can’t protect you if I don’t know what it is.’

’Why would you want to do that? I’m just another marked -’

’When have I ever given you reason to think I want anything to happen to you?’ His voice shakes and I feel the movement ripple through his body to his hands still curled in my jacket. 

I don’t reply.

’I’m just asking you to trust me.’

’Not gonna happen.’

’Whatever is going on, I just need to make sure you are safe. Please trust me.’

‘I don’t know anything. Alright?’ 

His fingers loosen their curl around my jacket, I lean back against the wall, suddenly remembering how to breathe freely. ‘You don’t know?’

‘I know nothing.’ I whisper.

His hands shift, his left palm presses against the stone beside my head and the right curls at my hip. His body is so close it’s almost touching mine, I feel the heat radiating off him. And some fucked up part of me wants to lean closer. Has already leant closer. I tilt my chin up in a practiced move of defiance. I am met not with resistance, but the subtle sweet smell of coffee, sandalwood and leather. How can a man smell this good? It’s as distracting as it is delicious.

‘You could just put your hands on me, you know, if you don’t believe me.’ I challenge.

His eyes flare in anguish. ‘I will never do that to you. I swear Mairi, I will never use my signet on you.’

‘I know.’ The delivery of those two words isn’t meant to be reassuring. I reach for the dagger at his thigh, making very sure he feels my fingers brush the hilt. ‘Because your fingers wouldn’t be the only thing I would render incapacitated.’

‘You’re unhinged.’ The words are whispered but filled with fire hotter than dragon flame.

‘And to think… we’ve only just started getting to know each other.’

His lips part slightly and his mouth opens before slamming shut. And I can’t help but smirk, I’ve rendered him speechless, a feat I didn’t think possible given the endless, meaningless orders that come out of his mouth on a daily sometimes hourly basis. Such a pity it’s such a pretty mouth.

For fuck's sake Sloane get a fucking grip. And not of the dagger hilt I’m still touching.

My other hand weaves up his chest to rest over the space where his heart should be, if he had one.

‘Was there anything else you wanted me for wingleader? Shall I return to class or do you mean to keep me pressed against the stone wall for any other reason?’

‘You could have stepped out any time you wanted.’ Aetos lowers his head, his lips rest just alongside the curve of my ear. ‘You were the one to lean closer.’

‘Yeah well…’ I shiver as his warm breath caresses the soft skin behind my ear. He sure as fuck doesn’t miss that. His eyes darken, and I swear his breath stutters.

I take advantage of the gap and slide out from inbetween him and the wall. ‘Unlike some people, I have class to get off to.’

‘Mairi.’ His hand grabs mine and hauls me back to him. ‘Be careful.’

His thumb brushes softly across my knuckles.

His thumb is warm, the skin hard and callused.

I want him to do it again.

‘Stay out of things, whatever they are, for your own safety.’

‘You don’t have to worry about me Aetos. I’ve survived worse places than this.’

‘That isn’t comforting.’

‘Wasn’t meant to be.’

‘Please.’

Perhaps it’s the word or the way he looks at me, with huge entreating eyes. But I promise.

‘Mairi.’ His voice finds me as I turn down the corridor.

‘What?’

He motions towards me, his dark eyes racking over my leather-clad body in a way that makes me straighten my spine - in defiance obviously and not to improve my profile which I know looks rather spectacular in this light. ‘The leathers, they suit you. You belong here. You are a rider, whatever happens don’t let anyone ever make you feel less than that.’

‘I don’t belong anywhere.’ The words escape before I can catch them, and his expression softens sadly.

‘You and Thoirt are going to be amazing.’

I want to snark something back, but the only words I find are. ‘Thank you.’

‘Stay out of trouble. Please.’

Two hours I am dragged out of class by two burly guards and dragged with the rest of the marked ones into the cells.

'So this grand plan of yours.' I hiss to Imogen after the cell door slams shut behind us. They've broken us into groups of two, it seems ridiculous that they are still concerned about us being in threes but even my limited experience with these people makes me wonder their intelligence at times. 'The one you wouldn't tell me about. Got anything to do with this?'

Imogen’s head jerks from where she is tugging on the bars. 'Violet was taken by Varrish. They've been torturing her for five days. Xaden is doing what he has to, to get her out.'

'And that ends up being hauled in here?' I can't stop pacing the cell. 'Reckon our dragons will be pissed if they try and burn us like our parents? That's what they're going to do isn't it?'

'Calm the down Mairi.' Imogen runs her fingers along the stone wall of the cell wall. 'None of us are going to burn today.'

'You sure about that?'

'They can't keep us in here.'

I climb the rough stones of the wall to the bars at the very top of the wall to catch a glimpse of the sky. There are twelve dragons flying aggravated circles above us. There at the head of the column are two reds, Thoirt and Cath. 

Cath. 

Why is he so actively involved? Thoirt had of course explained his position in the den, but surely he wouldn't be compelled to take such action unless his own rider were in danger. I jump down and return to the bars to look up and down the corridor. It's only marked ones as far as I can see. 

I can't see Dain. 

'Sit down Sloane.' Imogen says softly. 'You're not helping anyone by being like that.'

'You'll forgive me if I'm not used to be arrested. You'll forgive me if the last time I saw the inside of a cell, my parents were murdered. Those kind of things leave scars.'

Imogen grasps me roughly. 'You really think we would let anything happen to you?'

'I don't know what you would do any more. You don't tell me anything!'

'We are protecting you!'

'I don't need protecting. You demand blind trust, faith that you are doing what is right for all of us. But what the fuck do you know? What the fuck do any of you know? You're so fucking wrapped up in whatever the hell this is, you've forgotten the rest of us.'

'Sloane -'

'No, you listen to me. You demand I sit back, trust you to do what is right. But it's time you fucking trusted me. I'm not some weak little kid that can't look after herself, I'm not the burden you all treat me like, I am a rider. Like my mother, my brother, my grandmother before them. I am stronger than you think, than you give me credit for. Stop hiding from me. You think I can't handle it? You think I'm going to betray us?' I snarl at her. 

'No one thinks you're a burden.' Imogen’s expression cracks. 'We're just trying to protect you.'

'Stop! I don't want it! I want you to treat me like a person in my own godsdamned right, not some off shoot of Liam that is letting everyone down! I'm not him, I know that, but I'm worth something too!' I shout the words through my tears. 'And I godsdamned deserve to be treated like it!'

'That why you let Aetos help you with Gauntlet?' Imogen fires back.

'What?'

'I saw you two coming back down from Gauntlet. Looking way too comfortable with each other.'

'He just happened to be in the same place.'

'Happens to be in a lot of places when it's comes to you. He's always hovering, keeping an eye on you.'

'Well I should be thankful that someone is. Because where the hell have you been?' I fire back at her. 

'Sloane you're acting like a spoilt, angry little girl, still thinking that you're ten feet tall and unbreakable.' Imogen touches my head with far more gentility than I ever imagined her to be capable of. 'None of us are safe.'

'Yeah, well, we'll be dead by the end of the day.'

'If only your mum taught you the protection rune. Could be kinda handy now.'

'How do you know she didn't?' I demand. 'She taught me all the patterns she knew. I've been sewing them into my lace since they took me away.'

'You have?' Imogen's eyes brighten. 'And?'

'She never told me which one. But as soon as I started channeling Thoirt's powers I've been trying to see what I can do. You would know that if you bothered to talk to me.' 

'I'm sorry,' She yells at me. 'I'm sorry that I'm still fighting for something bigger than us.'

We fall into silence when the guard returns, rapping on the cell bars in irritation. 

For some time, we sit in silence listening to the war college contort with activity around us. There are whispers, wyvern on the borders, the leadership being summoned. Bodhi doing something so terrifying they could not speak of it, but I see the colour fade from their already pallid faces.

I curl into the corner of the cell, my head on my knees. I can still reach Thoirt, she passes me what updates she can. The longer this continues I am certain she will bust through the ceiling and claw her way through the college until she reaches me. The adoration I feel for her burns in my veins, I am not alone. 

Imogen doesn't speak to me again, but I catch her glancing my way. There's sadness and concern in her eyes. She's gone glassy eyed again, and I know she's talking to her dragon, getting updates on the situation from above. 

The lock rattles in the hinge. They are coming for us. We are going to perish by dragon fire as our parents did.

I curl into myself, burying my head into my knees. Thoirt I call to her. I think this is it.

No precious, she whispers, not yet. 

I begin to protest when I hear a familiar voice. 

'You make quite the gaol bird Ims.'

Garrick!

'Fuck you Garrick.' She snaps, but I hear the relief in her voice. ‘Took your bloody time.’

I lift my head, it's a blur of black, of movement and then hands. His hands - reach for me. And I falter.

'You ok Mairi?' Dain Aetos stands before me, offering his hand, they are bloodied and he looks as if he has already gone three rounds with a griphon.

'What's happening?' I take his hand tentatively. 

His grip is strong and sure and warm as he pulls me to my feet. 

'What the fuck are you doing here Aetos?’ Imogen demands.

’He’s with us now.’ Garrick says. ‘Just stabbed Varrish.’

I stare at his bloodied hands in - awe?

’Reckon that counts as a Codex violation.’ Imogen says.

He doesn’t rise to her comment. Just stares down at his hands.

’Reckon that makes you a rebel then.’ She studies him, and the faintest of smiles crests the corner of her mouth. ‘Always knew you had that mongrel inside.’

'Sloane Mairi.' Garrick shoves Aetos - Dain - out of the way and sweeps me into a huge bear hug that squashes all the air from my lungs. What little there was left. 

'Hey Gare.' I clutch him back. 'I missed your stupid face.'

He lets me down, his huge hands swallow my shoulders, before he nudges his bent fingers on my cheek. 'You got so big. So beautiful.'

'Always was, you just didn't see it dickhead.'

'Glad to see time hasn't dimmed that tongue of yours.' He smirks, ruffling my hair. He's too big and strong still for me to shove him off with any success.

'What's going on Garrick?'

He beckons me, and I follow.

'We're going home.' He smiles. 

'Really?' I stare.

'The truth is out now.' Garrick replies. 'No more hiding away. The fight has finally been brought to these assholes. Those who want to fight will be allowed to join us.' He levels a cold and dangerous glower at Dain. 'Once Aetos calls a formation.'

'You what?' I stare.

'I've been living in the dark too long.' Dain admits softly, gods he looks so small, I can just about see the world cracking at his feet, he is clinging hold of something, though I don't know what, to keep his feet steady on the ground. But for a man who always carries himself with such certainty, he looks as though he is drowning. 'It's time I did the right thing.'

I want to say something, I want to tell him it's going to be alright. But how can I? How will any of this ever be alright again?

'Let's go wingleader.' Garrick mocks. 'Ring that bell. Put those hands to good use.'

I watch those very same hands shake during the formation, as our dragons share Tairn's memory. I see the final moments of my brother, Thoirt asked if I wanted to see, gods did I need to know. I can't stop the tears that flood my eyes, and soak my face. When I can finally see again, I find the hazel eyes I've grown so used to staring back. 

'I'm sorry, so sorry.' He says softly. 'I'll never be able to -'

'Don't.' I whisper back, wiping my streaming eyes on the back of my hand. ‘I don’t think I can take it right now.’

He bows his head in acceptance and shame. ‘I understand.’

’Move your fucking ass Mairi, unless you want to stay in this shit hole.’ Imogen belows at me as she follows the crumpled body of Violet supported towards the dragons by Xaden.

‘Coming!’ I holler back.

I turn back to Dain. He looks as if he is folding in on himself, face stricken by the weight of the moment, the weight of the ramifications of his actions falling on his shoulders and stiffling his movement. 

‘What the fuck am I doing?’ He whispers. 

But he’s not talking to anyone.

Isolated.

Alone.

He has cut the tether to his home and the truth that once grounded his world in certainty is crashing around him. 

In that moment, I see him drifting, directionless and afraid. 

Regret is heavy in each carved line of his crestfallen face. 

The others race past him as if he no longer exists.

The battle raging in his soul plays out across his expression, and my heart rallies defensively in a way I’ve never known before.

‘You did the right thing.’

The sound of my voice startles him, and he looks to me. 

‘You're doing what no one else was willing to do... Brave enough to do.’

‘I’m not brave… not even close.’ His broken voice is barely audible as the world grows loud around us. 

‘You didn’t ignore it. You did something.’

He stares back at the college, at the whirlwind of activity and the changing of the guard. I see his shoulders shake. I cannot leave him like this.

I take his hand.

He flinches with surprise at the contact, I wonder when the last time anyone instigated touch towards him outside of a challenge. I curl my fingers around his and tug. For a moment, he holds on tight, as if the ground will swallow him if not for the momentum I take him with.

And then his expression shifts, as if he has found some reinforcement inside himself. I look aside and see right through the windows of his eyes into his soul. I cannot repress the shudder I feel to witness such fierce flames of strength in his very being. Thoirt's nickname for him suddenly makes sense. 

He drops my hand as we head towards our dragons, I see the way the others are looking at him. I can hope that my presence offers him some comfort. The last thing I feel as I mount Thoirt are his hands, holding me up when it’s my turn to falter.

Hands that are shackled upon our arrival into Aretia. Hands held in peaceful surrender, the sign of a man willing to trust his fate in the hands of men who would surely have killed him just for his name. Almost every rider from our wing spoke for him, in support of him, even Imogen. I did too. We gave our assurances that his heart was true, he did not know the devastating consequences of his own hands. He was no danger to us. In fact I told them, his actions showed he was the very best of us.

He was released and I feel even now the shudder of relief I felt when I saw him in battle brief. The wing was in safe hands as long as those hands were his. Dain Aetos may have been many things to our wing, but he was reliable, supportive and present. Exactly what we needed through this upheaval. These were the things I hadn’t experienced in a long time but had come to appreciate from him. Perhaps that was one of the reasons it was so hard to carry anger towards him. Because in spite of everything the moment he learned the truth, he turned his back on everything and everyone he had been raised to follow and protect. For us. For the truth. And in doing so he lost everything.

I know what that feels like. What that sort of pain can do to a person. And for some inexplicable reason I don’t want him to linger in such pain.