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rumowrites · 6 years ago

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Knight in Shining Armour

Here is the first One-Shot of the Dragon Prince Motorcycle Race Au!

Since the main story is still missing, here are the main characters and a little personal info:

Runaan is a 27 y/o engineer who owns his own company and is a MotoGP racer. His bike is called Moonshadow. He's currently leading the international scores. His sponsors are a pain in the ass.

Sol/Tinker is 25 y/o and an engineering college drop out due to financial reasons. He works as Runaan's only mechanic after the other met him in a diner he'd been working at in the middle of the night and hired him right away.

Lujannne is 45 y/o and Runaan's personal assistant, head secretary and responsible for media presence. With out her, the whole company would be a burning pile of chaos. Yes, she gets paid enough for this shit.

Warnings: very mild sexual content

Enjoy! And remember the AU is open for everybody to create in if you like! I will post character sheets if anyone is interested:)

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Sol looked up from the blueprints of the Moonshadow he'd been going over in silence for the past hour and stepped closer to the hydraulic bench where his boss was currently laying under said motorcycle. There had been some irregularities in the past test run and neither knew where it came from. “Hey, I think I found it.” He exclaimed, pointing at the folder in his hand.

The sudden sound apparently startled the other because Runaan jerked away, kicking a stack of crates in the process that immediately started to tip over. “Shit” barley a whisper left his lips as he frantically tried to free his hands from the engine block. Sol instinctively reached for the two falling crates, dropping the folder. He cringed a little under the weight of the spare parts but held them securely in his grasp.

When he glanced down, he was faced with a very startled engineer, eyes as big as saucers and hands still stuck between the parts he'd been working on. “T-thank you.” From his position on the floor, he had a great view on Sol's admittedly impressive biceps and he suddenly felt his mouth going dry. Runaan then busied himself with freeing his hands to hide the slight blush on his face while the mechanic placed the two crates on the ground beside them, offering a hand to pull him up. “Impressive catch. Those are heavy, I would know, I put them there.” A chuckle escaped his lips and he added “Thanks for the safe. Broken Ribs so close to the season would have been pretty inconvenient.” Sol rubbed the back of his head sheepishly, tousling the messy dark hair in the process. “No problem, I sometimes work as a blacksmith on Ren fairs, there is a lot of heavy lifting involved.” That sparked his interest, Renaissance Fairs and Medieval Markets were among his favourite things to visit. Primarily because the people going there would never recognize him. “Really? I used to do European sword fighting and archery in college.” Sol beamed, apparently pleased that they had something more to talk about than just their mutual interest in work. “Yeah, they paid pretty well for a broke college student and I enjoy the work on the forge. Besides the people are really nice.” Runaan nodded, recalling memories of past camps with the people in his Re-enactment group. “Will you do it again this year?” maybe he should dig out his old Tabard and sword to go and visit the other on a fair. It would clearly be a delight to get to know a little about the work of a smith. The image of Sol working on a forge flitted through his mind, but he quickly shook it off. Not the time to have those thoughts. The other had meanwhile picked up the folder and searched for the page he'd been on. “I suppose I will do one or two this year should I have the time. I don't need the money anymore, but I think I'd miss it.” Runaan hummed looking at the space his mechanic pointed at. “You think we moved that too far up the last time?” Sol nodded “Yeah it's one of the few things we did change, and the rest was pretty minor.” He shrugged looking over at his bike that was still propped up on the stand “Well it's worth a shot.”

That evening, the racer pulled out his phone and searched through the contacts. After a few rings, a deep voice answered. “I didn't think to hear from you again since you got that racing thing going on now.” Runaan had to smirk, his instructor hadn't changed one bit in the last three years. “Are you still giving private lessons?”

The first training session turned out to be very humiliating on his part. He hadn't expected to be as good as three years ago of course but the change in exercise since then wasn't exactly contributing to his swordsmanship. Sure, it kept him on the weight and general fitness level required by his sponsors, but he missed the familiar rush of adrenaline of a sport he actually enjoyed. Safe for Racing of course.

Despite being kicked around his private gym for three hours, he hadn't enjoyed anything as much as the training with Max in the last few weeks. His fitness tracker also informed him of an exceptional high caloric consumption, and they agreed to meet again the next day and the weeks after that. The impromptu Archery session he'd started afterwards went a lot better. Apparently, it proved to be skill you didn’t loose. Like riding a bike, the muscle memory was strong. Even though he hit less bull’s-eyes than he used to, it only took a few rounds to get back into it. Lujanne watched him re-organise his home gym with barley concealed amusement as soon as the targets he'd ordered arrived. “I thought you were supposed to stick to your training schedule?” of course he was but he'd checked the stats of the last few days and his chosen training was much more effective. “I'm sure you've checked the data from my tracker. It works so let me at least choose how I slave away for the sponsors. You know that my motivation to exercise would be way higher if I actually enjoyed it.” She rolled her eyes but didn't object, knowing that it would be useless anyways. Her boss could be very adamant once he'd set his mind on something.

Since his overall mood improved considerably during the weeks after changing the training schedule the personal assistant figured it was for the best.

When Sol entered the garage that day, he found his employer in a broody mood, nibbling on a carrot while he tapped away on one of the tablets to review the changes they'd made the day before. The Ashtray which was normally placed outside in the front yard was now filled with cigarette stubs and perched on the table next to him. His boss had the habit of stress-smoking when he was unnerved, and Sol didn’t like that particular trait at all. It was not that he minded the smell but something inside of him wanted to ensure the other’s wellbeing. However, he knew that the racer would forget about it as soon as they started working. It was more of a coping mechanism for left-over energy, really.

“Hey what's got you in such a sour mood?” usually Runaan was always at least a little bit excited when they worked together. The look he got in return was more than pained. As if the carrot was the object of his misery, he looked at it in disdain and then back to Sol. “They put me on a diet.” Even the tone in his voice was miserable. He couldn't within but wince in sympathy. In the past he'd come to know the other's love for food especially since the racer had to follow a certain meal plan already. “I'm sorry. Might I ask why? You look normal enough to me.” Again, the pained look. “Thanks? I only gained about 2 and half pounds but they want me to loose it before the next race so only vegetables for me.“ as if to prove his point, he took a bite off the carrot and rolled his eyes. “You know what the worst thing is? I'd have understood if they wanted me to drop fat, but the two I gained are muscle. Do you know how hard it is to loose them again?” he would've laughed at the tragedy in front of him if it wasn't so sad. He could basically feel the grief of every missed meal in the future hanging in the air in front of him. “I mean I worked hard for those two pounds. Why am I not allowed to keep them?” now he really had to chuckle. “Come on it's not that bad. You'll have them gone in no time. Let's start working so you can think of something else.” Runaan groaned but obeyed as soon as he pulled over a chair and opened the other stats from the day before. Work was something that always managed to capture the engineer's interest.

When he returned the next day, his boss had a salad bowl full of cucumber pieces next to him. “What the hell is that?” these must’ve been more than six cucumbers to fill that thing. “Cucumbers?” he rolled his eyes at the reply. “I can see that. But how many did you slaughter for this?”

“Hey, cut me some slack, they are mostly water, so I can eat them. And I intend to do that if I’m not supposed to turn into the hangriest person you'll ever witness. And it were eight.” Were? So, he'd already consumed about two? “Don't they get boring after number four?” Sol couldn't help but tease him a bit. It was way too entertaining not to. “I haven't had anything besides raw vegetables for two days so, yes. But if I don't eat anything, I will crawl those walls in no time.” During the following week it turned out that hungry Runaan was, as he’d promised, absolutely no fun to be around. He was extra grateful for the times Lujanne came around and occupied both of them with other things. She apparently knew how to handle the situation and brought some food that was low in calories but still relatively substantial.

It took about one and a half weeks until the nutritionist came around for a visit. It was the first time Sol had seen the man and he was immediately annoyed by this person. The guy was dressed like a suburban dad and looked the way. However he cleared the racer and left him a new meal plan including a box of premade meals for the week before vanishing again. The look on his employer’s face as he pulled the first one out of the microwave was priceless. Lujanne even snickered at the sheer worship with which he handled the fried rice with brussels sprouts and grilled chicken. “Don't laugh Janne! You have no idea how it feels like to survive on nothing but plant turned water for twelve days.” She just rolled her eyes and playfully hit the back of his head. “Remember you got that race in a few days so stick to the plan.” He nodded absently, inhaling the scent of his first real meal in days with watery eyes. “Are you about to cry over food?” Sol was still perched on one of the barstools and now munched on an apple with a shit eating grin on his face. “Maybe?” he took the plate and flopped down on a stool next to the mechanic with a deep sigh. “I will absolutely raid a steakhouse as soon as the last two races are over.” The short haired man had to laugh at the way his eyes rolled back in his skull once he took the first bite. “Happy?” a muffled groan seemed to answer his question. “Oh god yes, you have no idea. I was short of killing someone for real food.” Sol shook his head “Yeah, I noticed.” The next time this happened he was so going to take a vacation. Next to him he could see Runaan wince “Sorry about that. I know I'm not good company when I'm hungry.” Now he had to grin “That's the understatement of the century but don't worry I don't take it personally.” His boss started to laugh. “I'm glad.” To his astonishment, the whole food had already disappeared. With newfound energy, the racer hopped down from the barstool “Come on, let's get to work!” He rolled his eyes but followed down into the garage, nonetheless.

Sol turned the glinting piece of metal he'd been working on in the fire, waiting for it to reach the right temperature. Once it was glowing a soft yellow, he placed it on the anvil and began shaping it. Despite the relatively early hour there were already some people standing around his tent, watching him work. He smiled at the kids who looked at the forge with awe and walked over to them once he'd returned the metal to the embers to answer their questions. He'd missed the Fairs and was happy to be able to participate in one now that the racing season was officially over.

Lujanne grinned wolfishly as soon as her boss came down from his bedroom, dressed for the Renaissance Fair she knew the mechanic was currently working at. She’d just dropped by to deliver some reports from the science department and was immediately happy that she was able to witness this. Runaan was dressed in wide dark blue linen pants that were tucked into knee-high leather boots and a slightly dirty sleeveless white linen shirt under a dark blue leather vest. Both articles were only done halfway, giving her a good view on the crescent tattoo on his chest. The personal assistant watched as he fastened the sword belt around his hips and reached for the quiver laying on the kitchen counter, slinging it over his shoulder in one swift movement. “Fancy” she smirked “I like the braids, you should wear them more often.” He had his long white hair braided away on the sides of his head, creating the illusion of an undercut. The top part was slightly teased upwards in a mohawk fashion. Silver beads and rings were worked into the braids and little clasps held them together. The engineer let a hand wander up to feel the entwined strands he'd created in the same manner he used to wear in his Re-enactment group. “Thank you. Is there anything that needs my immediate attention? Otherwise I got a cab waiting outside.” She shook her head and followed him to the door instead. “No. Have fun with the handsome mechanic.”

Immediately, Runaan could feel his face heat up. “I have no Idea what you are talking about.” She only laughed and clapped him on the back “Yes, you do. You need to get laid.” In that moment he was sure his entire skin resembled a tomato. “Lujanne!” he exclaimed but the older woman was already inside her car. The engineer contemplated not going just to proove a point but quickly decided against it. She could think whatever she liked.

The Fair was just like he remembered it to be. Filled with people dressed in various styles of different eras and lined with stands selling crafts and food. He was glad how well he blended in despite his slightly eccentric outfit. Especially the hair. But he'd always been a bit particular about it, keeping it that long and all. Here at least nobody judged. He'd even applied some coal and eyeliner around his eyes for good measure. The Market was fairly large, and it took Runaan a considerable amount of time until he found his employees tent. He may have also taken his time to get there not entirely sure how Sol would react to his visit.

When he finally spotted a familiar figure repeatedly swinging a hammer down onto the anvil in front of him, his mouth went completely dry. The other was clad in nothing but dirty red linen pants and a leather apron, skin already glistering with sweat and streaks of ash from the fire. This was so much better than he'd imagined. He tracked the movement of Sol's muscles as the smith shaped the glinting metal in front of him with practiced ease and was subconsciously drawn closer. More people were gathered around, watching the work and suddenly Runaan found himself standing among them. He kept to the back of the crowd until Sol had answered everyone's questions and announced a short lunch break before he'd continue the work. The engineer waited for the other people to leave before stepping closer.

Sol was currently stowing his tools and peeled his skin from the leather apron as he sensed movement behind him. Maybe another visitor? He turned, only to stop dead in his tracks. There, against the tent pole leaned Runaan. His boss was clad in the fashion of a rouge and had a sword at his side such as a bow and a quiver full of arrows slung across his back. He looked very much attractive, the long white hair done in a set of intricate braids. And was that eyeliner? For a second he thought he imagined the whole scene but then, the other smirked “Hey, I hope you don't mind me dropping by. It's been far too long since my last fair.” His brain was still adjusting to the unusual sight as he looked around for a shirt. “Ah, n-no not at all.” Sol desperately tried to focus on Runaan's face and not the way most of his admittedly very defined chest was exposed by the outfit he wore. “I can show you around if you like.” The engineer smiled and nodded “Sure, if you don't mind.” when one of the girls from the food stand across the path came running by. “Hey Tink, have you finished the clasp, yet?” he'd known her for a few years since her family often came to the same Fairs. “Ah, Mina yes just a moment.” He turned to get it as her attention fell on the tall stranger standing by the tent. “Hi, who are you? I haven't seen you around before.” Sol could hear the familiar sound of a smile in the melodic voice as he answered. “My name is Runaan, pleased to make your acquaintance M'lady .” The white haired man even performed a bow and kissed her hand. Mina giggled with delight at the curtesy and pointed at his long hair. “Did you bleach it?” count on that girl to always ask the strangest questions. The other didn't seem bothered by it though and gave her a smile. “No it's a gene defect. It's always been this way.” She gasped in awe, pulling Sol's sleeve. “It's really pretty don't you think?” he nodded in agreement “Yeah it is. Here is your clasp.” The girl ran her hand over the simple Celtic design before jumping up and throwing her arms around his neck for a hug. “It's really beautiful. Thank you, Tink.” He laughed at her enthusiasm and gently ruffled her hair once she was back on the ground. “Your welcome.”

Her gaze flicked between them a few times before she turned to Runaan again. “How do you know each other?”

“He's my boss.” Sol supplied as a warning for her to stop prodding. He might have told her of his crush the evening bevor after a little bit too much of her self-made honey mead. Mina, thank the stars, immediately understood and threw him a knowing glance before turning to leave. “Have fun then, and see you around!” she was gone as fast as she'd appeared in the first place. “So Tink, huh?” Runaan grinned at his involuntary groan, still leaning against the pole. “It's, um, it's kind of my nickname? People started calling me Tinker after I fixed some of their things and it kind of got stuck.” The other simply smiled in response “I like it. Suits you.” It caused a warm feeling to spread in his stomach, replacing the nervousness he'd felt before. “Thanks. Come on, I know where we can get the best smoked meat sandwiches.” The mention of food got his boss to perk up and he had to laugh at the eager reaction. “Did they let you off the seasons meal plan, yet?” the next race wasn't for another four months after all. “Yes and I intend to use that to my advantage while I still can.” Sol found his enthusiasm towards any kind of food adorable. At the same time he felt sorry his job didn't allow him to exploit that particular interest.

True to his word, the sandwiches, which were actually a loaf of freshly baked bread filled with beef and bbq sauce, were fantastic and he had to smile seeing the heart-eyes Runaan made at his food after the first bite. “Oh my god-“ he mumbled “-what kind of drug did they put in here?” that made even the woman behind the stand laugh “Glad you enjoy it so much, lad.” Apparently unaware that he'd voiced his thoughts out loud, the engineer turned a shade pinker and hid behind the bread in his hands. “Don't mind him, he's still recovering from a diet.” Sol pulled him along to a few trees where they could sit down in the shade, the woman's hearty laughter following them. After finishing their lunch, he showed Runaan his favourite places of the Fair before returning to his tent to continue working. His boss wandered off after a couple minutes to find a few targets to shoot and he was glad for the chance to order his thoughts.

Until now, his crush had been securely contained but the object of said crush suddenly turning up dressed like a mix between fighter and sex god didn't help his situation at all. There weren't any people around, most of them eating, and he wasn't sure if he'd been able to deal with any should some show up. Mina came around as soon as she realized he was alone again. “You chose a hot one.” The girl stated as she hopped onto the work table, dangling her legs. “I know” it sounded a lot more whining than he cared to admit. “I think he likes you, too.” That got his attention “Really?” she nodded, expression sincere. “I saw him staring at you when he arrived. And nobody dresses like that if they don't want to impress someone, knowingly or not.” Her words sparked some hope in his heart. Maybe he could carefully test the waters? Drop a few unsuspicious hints? Mina seemed to read his silence correctly because she hopped down again, encouragingly clapping his arm. “Go get him, tiger.” And she was gone again. Sometimes he wasn't sure if he only imagined her presence.

He busied himself with work when a familiar figure approached his tent. “Garret, I really don't want to talk to you.” His ex was the last person he wanted to see today. “Come on, I just want to say hi.” He sighed and turned towards the broad-shouldered man in chainmail. “Please leave. I've told you we're through.” Sol turned back to the anvil then, continuing his work, determined to ignore the other's presence. His ex however had different plans and rounded the workspace to stand in front of him. “Give me another chance, Tink. I told you I'm sorry.” How dared he? Anger flared up in his chest and he shoved the glinting iron in the other's face, forcing him to take a few steps back. “You cheated on me, repeatedly. I will warn you one last time, don't come near me again.” He could see the familiar fury rise in Garrets eyes and prepared for a fight when another figure stepped up besides him, flanking his right side. “Is there a problem?” Runaan looked calm enough but held his hand on the pommel of the sword strapped to his side, ready to draw. “That's none of your business.” Garret’s voice was now filled with venom and he stepped closer again. “We have some private business to conduct here.” In that moment, Sol wondered once more why he'd ever bared with the guy in the first place. “No, we don't. Garret, leave.” He underlined the statement with a pointed look at the tent flap but apparently the other didn't receive the message and took a step forward instead.

To his surprise, Sol was suddenly faced with a face full of white hair as his boss stepped between them, seizing the other up as if to determine whether he'd be able to win a fight. “It is my business when someone threatens my employees. Especially if said employee is the best mechanic we've ever had. Please leave.” His voice was calm and commanding but he could hear the faint note of a threat swing with it. Still amazed that Runaan would stand up for him even though he didn't know what for, he reacted too late as his Ex lashed out. The punch was poorly aimed and collided heavily with the long-haired's crossed forearms. His boss however didn't budge an inch but also made no move for a counter attack. He simply stood his ground, staring the larger man down. “I will ask you one last time to leave Sol alone.” This time, he could hear barley concealed anger welling off of him. Garret took another step closer, so he could stare down on both of them. “You want to fight for the little shit? Fine. Let's take this outside.” This time, Runaan laughed “Oh, I'm sure he could easily fight for himself but if you insist.” Before storming off, his ex turned one last time. “At the show fight pit in ten minutes, don't pussy out.”

Once he was gone Sol shook the other's shoulders violently “That's a really bad idea. He's pretty good at the fighting. Please don't do that.” Runaan simply smirked, stilling the hands on his arms “I'll be fine. Don't worry. What's his problem with you anyways?” a deep sigh escaped his lips. He'd tried to avoid them meeting. “He's my Ex. He cheated on me, I left him about a year ago. I don't know what I saw in him in the first place to be honest.” The white haired man winced in sympathy. “From my limited experience with this person I would guess you're better off without him.” Sol had to laugh “Yeah, you don't say.” But the thought of them fighting had him immediately back in an anxious mood. “You know, I meant it. You shouldn't fight him. I don't want you to get hurt on my account.” After a moment he realized how that had sounded and quickly added “Besides Lujanne would have my head if I bring you back with a broken arm.”

However Runaan was having none of it. “I appreciate your concern but I am going to be fine. I will face Janne's wrath afterwards.” Tink sighed, he knew that face. It was the same one he made when insisting to try some reckless stunt on the track and meant his mind was set on it. “Don't you dare complain about a broken bone afterwards. I warned you.”

When they arrived at the show fight pit, Garret was already waiting there with a few of his friends, now without the chainmaille. At least he had the decency to not fight in full armour against someone clad in linen. Runaan took off the quiver and handed it to him together with the black recurve bow. “Watch over Luna, will you?” Of course he would have named the bow. Sol shook his head a little in amusement and also took the leather vest, tucking the things under his arm. “Wait!” he exclaimed before his boss could enter the pit. He pulled him back and whispered “He's got a weak defence on his lower right and his left ankle gives out under too much pressure.” With a smirk, the other nodded. “Thanks”

As soon as he’d jumped the fence of the pit Mina appeared at Sol's side slightly panicked. “Please tell me it's not what I think it is? Garret has been telling everyone he'd be wiping the floor with your new boyfriend.” He massaged his temples with one hand, grimacing “Sadly it is.” She paled a little “Should I alert the medics?” but he shook his head, determined to put at least a little trust in his boss. “No not yet, I want to see how it goes first. Maybe it will be fine.” Mina scoffed “Yeah sure. Garret's got at least a eighty pounds on him.” But she obediently stayed by his side, snuggling a bit closer as the pair in the pit began to circle each other. A little crowd of visitors and vendors alike had gathered, sensing this wouldn't be a regular show-fight.

Garret struck first but his opponent evaded the blow without even blocking it, sword cutting trough the air uselessly. Furious at the miss, the larger man attacked again, missing another time. They repeated the charade a few times until Garret was fuming. “Stay still you coward!” his boss chuckled but kept his distance, continuing to dance around the other. Somehow Sol was not surprised. The bastard sword in his hands looked used and had probably seen his fair share of fights. A little weight lifted off of him seeing Runaan wasn't already laying face down in the dirt as he’d expected.

A minute or two passed until the white haired man decided he'd evaded enough and started to actually fight. His style was different than what he'd seen before, more fluent. “Finally decided to fight me?” Garret huffed out between two breaths and suddenly Sol understood what the other had been doing. Tiring his opponent out was smart. Especially when the other had the strength advantage. They clashed swords repeatedly and even though both of them used dulled blades, he could imagine the pain they'd cause should they actually hit one another. Meanwhile, a larger crowd had gathered around them, seemingly interested in the fight. “He's actually pretty good.” Mina whispered beside him, pulling the mechanic out of his daydreams. “Yeah, I still worry.” She scooted a little closer squeezing his shoulder. It turned out he worried rightfully when Garret managed to get hold of his opponents neck somehow. He didn't see how exactly it happened but Runaan must have not been fast enough for once. Sol could see the realization on his boss' face as the pommel of Garret's sword neared his face and caught him right across the forehead. Unable to evade it, he just managed to stop some of the force with his free left hand. When the bigger man let go of his neck and pushed him to the floor, he dropped to his knees and Sol was just short of jumping the fence and running towards if Mina hadn't grabbed his hand. “Wait.” In front of them Runaan looked up to meet Sol's eyes before flicking his gaze further up at Garret with a grin. He wiped away the blood running down his nose and slowly stood up while his opponent came walking towards him, twirling the sword in his right hand. “Haven't you had enough?” his ex also dropped back into a fighting stance. “I'm still standing aren’t I?” the question was delivered with a surprisingly fast attack. Apparently Runaan had decided it was time to go into the offensive. The fight was more intense this time, people even started cheering like in a pub brawl. This time, the engineer clearly kept the upper hand. He moved faster, putting his whole Energy in speed, and made sure to stay out of the other's reach when he wasn't attacking. Somehow it even increased Sol's anxiety. By now, both of the fighters were covered in new bruises and scrapes but neither seemed inclined to yield. He quickly noticed that Runaan always hit with the flat side of his sword, decreasing the amount of damage he dealt. Still, he managed to get Garret on his back four times in a row, always giving him time to get up again. Evidentially both were keen to stick to the rules in that perspective. “Yield already!” the larger man huffed, starting a new attack that only found air. “Oh please after you.” Even though also breathing heavily by now, his boss seemed more energetic. He'd remind him of that the next time he complained about cardio, Tink thought a small smile creeping on his face. It took another ten minutes until he'd worn Garret down enough to disarm him every time he tried to attack. After four futile attempts, the other gave in and held up his hands. “Fine, you win.” He spat, leaving the field “Have fun with that looser.”

It turned out that had been the wrong thing to say because Runaan was by his side in an instant, swiping his legs and pushing the larger man to the ground with his knee on the other's chest. “If I see you bothering him again, I will find you and then you'd wish you'd broken both my arms when you had the chance.” It was quiet enough for only Garret to hear but the anger in his eyes reached Sol before he let go of him again, turning to walk away.

Tink wondered what he'd said to the other but he doubted it was something pleasant. The crowd made way for the white haired man as he vaulted over the fence, making his way towards Sol and Mina. The girl disappeared again with the promise to find some water and a few tissues for his face and left the pair to themselves. “You are hurt.” The mechanic tried his best to sound displeased even though he was glad of the relatively good outcome of the fight. Runaan's grin was tinted a light red that indicated he'd probably also bit his tongue during the exchange. “I’m fine it's just a little blood.” He shook his head, grabbing the other's arm to lead him back to his tent. “A little blood my ass. I’m pretty sure you are also concussed.” His boss chuckled but let himself being led away without struggle. “Calm down, you are worse than Lujanne.” Sol huffed “And you are reckless as hell. But then, we already knew that.” He grumbled searching through his stuff for a clean towel. Thankfully Mina appeared soon enough with a bowl of water and a washcloth, handing them to Tink. He pointed to a chair “Sit” Runaan obeyed and watched him wet the cloth, not twitching away when he moved to dab it at his nose. “Do you think it's broken?” he asked, eyeing the blood that was still trickling down his face suspiciously. The engineer shook his head slightly “No that feels differently.”

Sol stopped “How do you-“ but then shook his head “You know what? Never mind.” The other raised a shaped white eyebrow but chose to remain silent in favour of the cloth dabbing away the blood on his face.

Runaan had to look away from his employees concentrated expression when the urge to just grab and kiss him got too strong. After all, he still didn't know whether he was interested or not and there was no way he would jeopardize their friendship for that. At Sol's insistence, he stayed by the forge, perched on an unused spot of the worktable with his legs drawn up. “There is no way I let you get out there again when Garret and his friends are still there.” He didn't object as it gave him the opportunity to drink in the sight of a very hot smith working shirtless on the forge. For hours. Mina came around occasionally to see if they were both still okay and every once in a while a visitor would either ask or buy something. But otherwise they were alone. Sometimes, Tink would explain what he was doing and he’d ask questions about either technique or functionality of the finished products. It was a nice change from work and Runaan enjoyed being the one without any knowledge, eager to learn what fascinated the other in the work he was doing.

Eventually, dawn neared and soon, the fire was the only thing lighting up the tent as the sun slowly set between the trees. “The people working at the camp usually gather around the fires in the yard once the visitors have left, would you like to come with?” Sol suddenly asked “If, um, if you don’t have to be anywhere that is.” He checked his phone but besides two messages from Lujanne asking if he’d scored the mechanic, yet there was nothing of importance, so he shook his head. “No, they will survive a day without me, I think. I would love to come.” A warm feeling spread in his chest at the beaming smile Sol regarded him with in response. “Great, let me just get the forge down to a safe temperature.” He watched him close some of the air vents until the fire died down to a soft glint.

When they arrived in the yard, dozes of little fires were already burning and almost the whole staff had gathered around to enjoy the evening. Runaan recognized the people he’d shot a few targets with earlier and walked over when the smith excused himself to get something to drink for them. “Hey man are you okay? We saw the fight earlier. Garret is such a dick I’m glad he already left.” One of them greeted. “Yeah, I’m fine. Though I would prefer to let that stay a one-time experience. I’ve had more fun fights.” He other two nodded solemnly “He deserved it. Especially after the shit he pulled with our favourite smith last year it was bold of him to turn up here again.” Runaan furrowed his brows “It’s not really my place to ask but what happened? Sol seemed pretty upset.” the girl on his right shook her head “Nah, it’s really no secret around here. That Dickhead cheated on Tink with two guys at the same time. I mean that’s just shitty. And he wouldn’t leave him alone when he ended things. We even had to throw him out of the camp.” Multiple grim nods in their immediate surrounding confirmed her statement. “Now I kind of wish I hit him harder.” Runaan mumbled, still angry at the guy he hardly knew. How dared he do that to such a nice person? Someone patted his back and the group erupted in laughter. “Trust me you bruised his ego enough. How long have you two been together?” every drop of blood in his body immediately froze. “How long have we- What?” he repeated, choking on the words tumbling out of his mouth. The girl who’d spoken earlier looked confused. “We thought you were an item. Aren’t you?” He shook his head frantically, a violent blush spreading up until it even covered his ears. “N-no. We, um, we work together. I’m kind of his boss?” At the mention of work, the group exchanged knowing glances. “So, you are the mysterious employer of the mysterious job he isn’t allowed to talk about? What do you even work as? All we know is that he’s a mechanic.” She prodded, asking what everyone wanted to know. He hesitated for a moment but eventually decided it would do no harm if a group of Re-enactors knew his face. “I’m a MotoGP racer. Sol is my fist and only mechanic. He also helps me in development for my company. I’m an engineer when I don’t race.” They all stared at him for a second seemingly trying to connect the slightly dirty guy in sweat-stained linen clothes to one of the famous racers. “Wait!” one of them said “Your name was Runaan right?” he nodded “So you’re the owner of Moonshadow inc? And built the fastest bike on the track at the moment?” Great, why would one of the medieval nerds be interested in racing? “Yes, why?” he already prepared himself for a series of questions, but the guy only shrugged. “I would have pictured you older.” Relief washed over him, being spared the unwanted attention. “Thanks?” The conversation steered back to Archery after that and he was glad about the change of topic that allowed him to regain some of his composure before Sol returned, handing him a cup of steaming honey mead.

He let himself get pulled away by the short haired man and they sat down with Mina by one of the fires. The group exchanged stories of past Fairs and Runaan was contend listening to all of them. It made him happy to see Sol talk so feely with the other Re-enactors and how well everybody seemed to like the smith. When nobody forced him to interact, big groups of people weren’t that bad. He found the men and women around him to be exceptional easy company in comparison to the high society snobs he usually had to deal with. It reminded him of his old Re-enactment club during college. He was pulled from his musings as Sol tapped his shoulder and offered him a glazed apple. Apparently, his expression must have been really funny since multiple people in his immediate surrounding laughed as he took the precious treat. The smith only smiled at him and shushed the rest with a chuckle “Don’t be mean. He usually isn’t allowed to eat sweets.” They all fell silent with expressions of sympathy and then continued their previous conversations. Runaan really admired the acceptance among the group even though they hardly even knew him. “I’m pretty sure you earned that after the fight you delivered earlier.” Sol bit into a glazed apple, himself and motioned for him to do the same. “Go on, they are really good.” A little reluctantly, the engineer took the first bite and was immediately in food heaven. The sweetness of the sugar worked well with the general sour taste of the fruit. “Oh my god.” He exclaimed “I forgot how they taste like.” The other smiled at the expression of pure glee. “Careful Tink, you might break him.” Someone shouted but Runaan couldn’t find himself bothered by it. He was glad to finally be able to meet Sol’s friends but also a little sad that he couldn’t offer him the same.

The night went on and soon everybody was positively tipsy. Some people even started to sing and dance around one of the bigger fires. He surveyed the scene when someone suddenly brushed his back. Turning around, he found Sol’s gaze who had wrapped a thick wool blanket around both their shoulders, his face slightly flushed from the alcohol. It had turned cold somewhere during the last hour and Runaan realized just now that he was shivering. “Thank you.” He smiled and scooted a little closer, surprised by the other’s radiant body heat. The smith simply shrugged but returned his smile “You seemed cold.” He nodded, drawing the tip of the blanket up in front of him. “How come you aren’t?” another shrug “I guess my internal heating system works a little too well?” he hummed in agreement, contend in the pocket of warmth created around them.

Even though he greatly enjoyed the company he was in, it got too much at some point. Too many different snippets of conversation found their way into his brain and it grew harder to blend them out. “I’m going to take a walk.” He informed Sol before stealthily distancing himself from the group of people. The clear night air calmed him immediately and he wandered the camp until he found a nice place under a tree to sit. Far enough from the other’s to be quiet and largely shielded from view. Runaan leaned his head back against the tree trunk, admiring the stars that appeared in he night sky. He wasn’t sure how long he’d sat there but after a while he heard soft footsteps coming closer. Sol sat down next to him, wrapping them once again in the blanket he’d brought. He’d began to shiver again. “Sorry I ditched you. I’m not good with many people.” He tried to explain but the excuse sounded hollow in his ears. The mechanic regarded him with a warm smile nevertheless “It’s okay. They can be a bit much.” That was not what he’d meant to say. “N-no, they are great, really. I just struggle when I’m around too many unfamiliar people for a long time.” Now that he thought about it, Runaan found it pretty pathetic on his part. They had all been so nice and he still wasn’t able to stick around for longer than a few hours. “That’s fine. I’m glad you still decided to stay as long as you did. I think I haven’t thanked you yet for helping out with Garret.” The engineer shook his head “Don’t mention it. From what I heard he had it coming.” Tink nodded a little sadly “Yeah. However, thanks to you he will probably stay away for good this time.”

He offered a smile, subconsciously shuffling closer to the other “I that case, I’m glad I could be of service.” Their faces were awfully close now. So close that Runaan could see the stars reflected in Sol’s enticing eyes. His throat went dry as he instinctively bit his lip to keep himself from doing something he’d regret. There were little freckles on the other’s cheeks, partially covered by smears of coal and dirt. Some of the dark hair had fallen down, obstructing part of the view. He knew he was staring but couldn’t for the love of god pull his eyes away from the beautiful man in front of him. Green-gold orbs with barley dilated pupils stared back at him and when he flicked his gaze down to the smith’s lips, he found them slightly parted, a small puff of hot breath appearing in the cold air. Said air suddenly got trapped inside his lungs as his rapidly beating heart drowned out all other sound. Runaan licked his bottom lip, slowly closing the distance without his brain having any say in it. Sparks erupted behind his closed eyes when Sol met him halfway, reaching up cup his face carefully as if he has afraid to break him.

Deepening the kiss and desperate to get closer to the object of his desire, the engineer sank his hand in-between the dark curls and pulled him forward until Sol was placed in his lap. Warm hands started to roam his chest, tracing the pattern of his tattoo. He grinned against Sol’s lips. Getting a hold of the hem of his shirt, he slipped his nimble fingers under it, caressing the soft warm skin underneath. “Mhmn” the smith seemed to agree with his plan and wiggled a little closer, burying his face in Runaan’s neck and letting butterfly kisses trail along his collarbone and up again to claim his mouth.

Every thought of doubt was erased from his mind as he struggled to get as close as humanly possible to Tink. By now, their chests were touching and the dark haired man had his knees placed on either side of him so he was straddling his hips, hands still roaming over the skin exposed by the front of his shirt. Eventually, they had to break apart to breathe, both of them panting slightly from the unexpected outcome of this evening. “Tent?” Sol asked, struggling to his feet. “Oh god, yes.” His own voice a low growl, Runaan let himself being pulled up by the other and together they raced through the campsite, keen to avoid anyone else. As soon as the dark red tent came into view, he felt the mechanic quickening his pace, grabbing his hand to drag him along. Once inside, Sol fumbled with a few knots which held up one of the side panels, hands trembling. When he finally managed to get them to fall down, only the soft red of the fire illuminated the inside of the tent, tinting the other’s hair a flaming orange.

Slowly, tentatively, Runaan stepped up in his personal space, giving him plenty of time to change his mind before hoisting him up in his arms. “Are you sure?” it sounded uncertain, voice a low rumble heavy with emotion. He nodded “Mmmhm” their second kiss was soft and caring while the engineer carried him over to the mattress and heap of blankets he’d placed in a secluded part of the tent. Runaan carefully set him down, supporting his own weight with hands braced on either side of his head. The white hair was tousled by now, some strands falling out of the braids and into Sol’s face. In that moment, he swore he’d never seen anyone as beautiful. Dark turquoise eyes sparkled above him, scanning his every move with dilated pupils. “God you are perfect.” The other murmured, leaning down for another kiss. Instinctively, Tink wrapped his hands around his neck and forced Runaan down on his forearms, closing the distance between their bodies. The taller man let out a soft yelp at the sudden loss of balance but caught himself quickly enough without crushing him. “Sorry” he whispered against his lips, drawing a chuckle out that vibrated through both their bodies. “Don’t apologize.” It was something Runaan thought Sol did too often. “You should never apologize.”

On a relatively clear moment, he turned and reached over to the tracker on his wrist, activating the pre-installed private mode. “Aren’t you gonna take it off?” Tink cringed a little at the thought of someone getting hold of that data. “No way, do you know how many calories I intend to burn?” he couldn’t supress the full out laughter that bubbled up his throat at the sincere tone. “Don’t worry it doesn’t transmit anything this way.” Runaan breathed into his ear, gently nipping at his earlobe in the process. Sol had to bite down on his fist to stifle an involuntary groan. They were in a tent after all and tents had zero to none soundproofing. “Y-you are, Hnhhggnn, you are crazy.” He managed, reaching out pull the other further down to return the favour. “So, Aaaah, so I’ve been t-told.”

Something bright shone into his eyes, uncomfortable even through the closed eyelids. Runaan moved his hand to block it, blinking slowly until his eyes adjusted to the light. He was in a tent. Pushing himself up, the engineer let his gaze wander around the space and shivered a little at the cold air tickling his skin. Looking down at himself, he came to another realisation. He was naked. He was in a tent and naked. Suddenly the events from last night came flooding back into his memory. The fight, the fire, the kiss- the kiss.... “Shit” he breathed, running a shaky hand through the remnants of his once braided hair. How could he have done that? Runaan prayed his actions hadn't cost him their friendship. Sol wasn't here after all and that was a bad sign in his experience. Manly because he was usually the one to leave and knew exactly what that meant. A glance on his tracker made him stop again. 11:23am. How long had he been sleeping? He tapped away on the little screen, pulling up the chart displaying his sleep time. Seven hours? He never managed to sleep that much in a row, much less undisturbed by insomnia.

Just now he realized that there were people moving about outside, their chatter seeping through the thick tent cloth. The back of the tent he was currently occupying was secluded from the rest by a curtain, effectively blocking his sight on the outside world and vice versa. Grateful for at least a little bit of privacy in his flustered state, Runaan slowly stood up to collect his clothing. He found his pants and underwear easily enough, them being the closest items to the mattress on the floor. The engineer felt immediately better after pulling them on, now at least able to preserve his modesty should someone enter. After a few minutes of rummaging, he also produced one of his boots and the sword belt Sol had been so eager to get off of him last night. He pushed the memory back when he felt warmth pooling in his stomach area, still able to recall the feeling of the others fingers on his hips and- ‘No' he scolded himself. That was not the kind of thought he needed right now.

Despite turning over every item in his surrounding, Runaan wasn't able to find his shirt nor the missing second boot. With a sigh, he used the little mirror fastened to one of the tent poles to at least fix his white hair from ‘I just had sex' to ‘It's meant to be this way'.

The engineer soon realized he would have to leave the tent eventually and if only to find his missing clothes. Barefoot, he tapped over to the curtain and carefully peeked through it. Sol was talking to three elderly women but otherwise the coast seemed clear. Spotting his belt pouch that most likely contained his phone and some cigarettes, god did he want one right now, he sneaked outside to get it. A cab would be his saving grace.

However one of the Ladies made his plan disappear into thin air when she gasped and pointed at him. “Sir there is a man in your tent.” Shit, so much for making a quiet escape. Sol was surprisingly unfazed and didn't even turn around. “Ah, yes that's Runaan. Runaan, say hi to these lovely ladies.” His voice was warm, affectionate and completely caught the engineer off guard. “Uh, um Hi?” he tried, wincing at the gravelly sound. The trio returned the greeting reluctantly, still suspicious of his presence.

Sol chose that moment to grab a cup that was placed near the fire to keep it warm and walk up to him, placing a soft kiss on his lips as he pushed it into Runaan's hands. “Good morning sleepy head, I got you some coffee.” Both himself and the three ladies seemed equally shocked by the gesture. He opened his mouth to say something but snapped it shut again. Busying himself with the coffee instead. What did just happen? The smith returned to tend to his customers, leaving his boss? Lover? Boyfriend? alone again. Just then, Mina spotted him from across the path and waved enthusiastically. Without even realizing he tentatively waved back, still certain to be caught in a dream.

He needed a smoke. Now. Placing the empty coffee cup on the worktable, he reached for his pouch with trembling hands and pulled out the box of cigarettes. Runaan lighted one on the glowing embers and leaned back against the table, taking a long, deep pull. It needed longer than usual for the calming effect to set in and he was already lighting the second one on the glinting stub of the first when the trio finished their purchase. They smiled as Sol bid them goodbye and one of them even waved at him. The engineer raised his hand in acknowledgement still bewildered by the surreal calm. Nobody was kicking him out. That was a first.

“Hey, are you okay?” the smith suddenly appeared in front of him, grimacing as the smoke reached his nose. “Um, yeah, I'm fine.” The frown on the other's face only deepened. “You look troubled and-“ he pointed at the now third cigarette between his fingers “-you stress smoke.” Runaan sighed, keeping it perched on his lips despite the disapproving look it earned him. “I expected you to kick me out.” Bewilderment flickered over Sol's beautiful face “Why would I do that?” he shrugged, drawing almost the whole cigarette in one to gain some courage. “I don't know? Maybe you would’ve regretted last night?” the confusion in the other's eyes only intensified. “Why would I regret it? Do you?” Runaan found that he did, in fact, not regret a thing. Also a first. “N-no.” He stuttered, letting go of the cigarette butt as it burned his hand. He subconsciously reached for the pack to get another one but Sol was faster. “I will be taking these.” He announced despite his involuntary whine. “So why would you think I'd regret it.” The smith was awfully close now, close enough to smell the distinct note of fire on his skin. “I, um. You, well, you weren't there when I woke up and I thought-I thought you might’ve ditched me and-“ he didn't get any further because suddenly, their lips were clashing and Sol chased the taste of nicotine off his tongue with coffee and something distinctively him. “I would never just ditch you.” The other said after pulling away again. Runaan swallowed “So we're good?” he dared to ask tentatively. A nod in confirmation lifted a boulder the size of this entire state off his heart. “Of course we are. As long as you still want this?” he nodded immediately, blurting out a “Yes!” before he could even think about it.

Sol beamed in return and pecked his lips again “Great! I will get us something to eat.” And dashed out of the tent. He busied himself with observing the passing people and noticed that the members of Tink's Re-enactment group all smiled when they saw him. He waved and smiled back. Maybe this wasn't so bad.

#the dragon prince #MR AU #Motorcycle Race AU #Tdp #tdp fanfiction #runaan #tinkaan #tdp tinker #runaan x necklace elf #tdp runaan #tdp fic #the dragon prince fanfiction #rumo writes #moonshadow racing

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rumowrites · 6 years ago

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My One-shot in the Motorcycle Race AU is now up on AO3. I made some minor adjustments and added a paragraph or two.

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rumowrites · 6 years ago

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Work update;)

I'm close to finishing the Backstory for the Racing AU

The new chapter for Talents is also almost done

So stay tuned! And I hope you all don't mind my slow-ass writing :/

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rumowrites · 6 years ago

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What if Runaan had a break down or something and Tink had to comfort him? I'm sure killing people all the time can't sit well, and bottling up emotions will often make the glass shatter. What'd'ya think?

@dargonwiter It belongs in the Defectum-verse and will turn up again later in the story but for now, have this sniplet that perfectly matched this prompt!

Warnings: trauma, implied torture (minor), Alcohol abuse, ptsd

It was the night of the lunar new year and soon every Moonshadow elf would gather on the main market place to celebrate together. Tink was currently sitting at the kitchen table of their most famed assassin and checked the Bowblade he’d just delivered for any faults that could have escaped him before. It was his final work and would hopefully only need a few adjustments before Runaan could use it in the field. Months had passed since the day they met in the woods and Tink secretly prayed to the moon every night that his subtle flirting attempts would finally get noticed by the stern soldier. The smith harboured a crush to an extend he didn’t think would be possible before meeting the tall elf. Now that their contract was almost fulfilled, he had the irrational fear to loose the friendship they built and be alone again. “NAAN?” he shouted, looking impatiently at the staircase in the corner “Come on, we are going to be late for the fireworks.” A good twenty minutes prior, the Assassin had excused himself to change into something ‘more fitting’ and hand been gone since.

“Why are you in such a hurry?” Tink shrieked a little as the other suddenly appeared beside him. He still hadn’t gotten accustomed to the numerous hidden grips that could be used to get up or down instead of the staircase. “I’m not but we are going to be late.” He smirked at his friend who was now dressed in his full parade uniform, rank pauldron and all. “Fancy” Runaan grimaced immediately. “We could also just stay here and avoid all the people.” He filled two glasses with the Whisky Tink had come to know as his favourite and offered one to him while downing the other in one go. “Why do I get the feeling you don’t want to go?” he asked, pushing his glass back. The wine from before already did enough to make him feel warm and slightly bolder than usual. Runaan eyed the glass before tipping it back, too. “Because I don’t want to? Too many curious people that I have no intention to meet nor talk to.”

Early on, the smith had noticed the other’s aversion of strangers and big crowds in general. He’d said they made him nervous because he wasn’t able to calculate threats properly when Tink asked him about it. “We can stay at the edge of the crowds if they bother you, come on.” He stood and opened the door in order to get the Assassin to finally leave that precious house of his. “Alright, alright.” Runaan waved him off and obediently followed outside. He didn’t even get the chance to close the door behind him when the first banging sounds of fireworks sounded through the night. A couple of kids must have found some of them since it was still way before midnight. Tink wanted to make a joke about them getting punished for that afterwards when he noticed that Runaan was frozen into place next to him. “Naan?” he asked carefully taking a step towards him. The Assassin was eerily pale, and his eyes were opened wide in shock. He made no move to respond so Tink tried again, touching his shoulder this time. “Runaan.” Again, no reaction. Now concerned, he gently shook the other “Runaan? Are you okay?”

“Run” no more than a whisper passed the Assassin’s lips just a second before his hand shot up and tightened around Tinks neck with alarming intensity. He gasped for air, now looking into narrowed eyes that were darker and didn’t look like his friend at all. “R- Ru- naan.” He managed to choke out before the air completely left his lungs. He could feel his vision blacking out already as the pressure on his throat suddenly eased, sending him to the floor, violently gasping for air.

When he looked up, Runaan was staring at the hand that had pushed him up the wall just a second ago in utter shock. “naan?” his voice was still raspy but at least he could breathe again. The Assassin’s gaze snapped to him, fixing on the spots of his neck where most likely bruises could be seen. “I’m sorry. So sorry. Oh god. Tink, I-I’m so sorry.” He rambled, backing away through the entry and inside his house. In the distance, Tinker could hear more fireworks. Now that he thought about it, they reminded him a lot of the canons the humans used to defend their castles. He’d only ever heard them once during his time on the border, but it was a sound one didn’t forget that easily.

“Runaan? Are you okay?” he quickly followed the other inside, seeing him lean against the wall that separated his kitchen from the rest of the floor, breathing heavily. This time, the smith was sure to approach more carefully. “Can you hear me?” a nod, good. “What happened?” but Runaan only shook his head and dragged a shaking hand through his hair, messing with the tidy braids. His gaze travelled between Tink and the bottle on the table a few times before he finally replied. “The-the s-sounds. I’m s-sorry.” The smith nodded and forced a smile on his face. “I’m okay; see? Nothing happened.” He tried to get a little closer, but the Assassin immediately took a step backwards, his feet hitting the wall. “Stay away from me!” it sounded so much more afraid than he’d ever heard his friend and something in his gut twisted in return. “Runaan..” he began but was cut off before he could say something. “P-please. I-I don’t want to-to hurt you.”

“okay” Tink agreed and took a few steps back until the other had relaxed a little. “Do you want to talk about it?” he asked carefully and pulled one of the chairs over to sit down. The soldier shook his head but also took a seat. On the opposite side of the table as far away as he possibly could. His hands were still trembling as he reached for the liquor and poured some of it in one of the glasses. Tinker watched patiently as he emptied it, repeated the process and suddenly stood, walking into the training room to get more distance between them. “It’s the sounds, right?” he asked and slowly followed in the large room. A nod in approval. “Tink, please don’t follow me.” Again, the fear in his voice.

“It’s okay, you are not going to hurt me.” The smith tried to soothe but while he was speaking more fireworks sounded in the distance. Midnight. Runaan’s eyes widened again and he backed into a corner, sinking to the ground his back to the relatively safe wall. “I’ve already hurt you.” He exclaimed, staring at his right hand as if it was somehow to blame for that. “Just go, please, It’s not safe. I’m not safe.” The assassin mumbled, drawing his legs up. “I won’t just leave you here.” Tink advanced step by step, praying the other wouldn’t bolt again. When he reached the cowering figure and spoke again, Runaan looked at him in shock seemingly lost in his own world. “Come here.” He coaxed and pulled him in a tight embrace. Under his hands, he could feel the usually composed elf tremble. “They died, Tink. All of them. I couldn’t-“ his friend whispered, voice now hoarse. “Shhh, it’s okay. We are safe. Tell me about them.” He reassured as calmly as he could and rubbed circles across the other’s back. “We were s-seven. M-my fourth mission. Hostage retrieval. The humans, they-they-“ Runaan broke off again and took a few deep breaths. “It’s alright, I’m here.” The smith repeated, sitting down next to him while still keeping an arm around his shoulders for comfort. “-they fired at us. E-everybody died. I-I could see them get hit b-because I was behind them, carrying the hostage. I still d-don’t know h-how, but we m-made it. M-my whole quad dead. J-just like that.”

“It wasn’t your fault.” Tink assured and continued to comfort the other. “There was nothing you could have done.” “S-still.” The assassin argued, now with a little of that stubbornness that was so distinctly him. “I-I don’t know.” He took another shuddering breath before closing his eyes for a few seconds. When he spoke again, his voice was even, if still hoarse, and sounded much more like it usually did. “I feel like I could have done more to save them. The fireworks, they-they remind me of the canons.”

Tink nodded but kept his arm still around the other’s shoulder, pulling him close. “How often do you get those flashbacks?” he asked quietly. For someone usually so composed, the huge loss of control must be devastating. He himself often had nightmares from his time at border and could only imagine how horrible the Assassin’s were. It took a couple of minutes before Runaan finally replied but the smith waited patiently, hugging him a little tighter. “I haven’t had this one for three years, but it occurs sometimes when I hear those sounds. Thankfully it never happened to this extent on a mission.”

“So, there are others? Do you know what they are triggered by?” the general nodded, staring ahead to something only he could see. “Narrow spaces, huge, dense crowds, fire and generally loud noises. But not all of them necessarily have to cause a panic attack. If I can mentally prepare for it, I can block it out. Fire is also not that problematic, just-just if it’s very near to my skin.” Torture was the first thing that crossed Tink’s mind, but he decided not to touch that topic today. Now that he thought about it, he’d seen a few strange scars on the other’s body back when they were sparring that looked a lot like the marks his mentor bore on his arms from handling the hot iron all day for decades.

“You said the one today was the first in three years. What did you do before that helped? So I know what to do next time?” a helpless laugh was the response he got and he could feel Runaan relaxing a little until his back leaned against the wall and one of his legs was stretched out again. “I left. Two times, I had missions that I took because they spanned the new year’s celebration and once, I just walked until I couldn’t hear them anymore.” He left out that he’d not only sprinted through the woods as fast as he could but also spent Midnight in an equally high tree branch equally drunk as the day they met.

“And for the other occasions is there something that helps?” Runaan shook his head “Not completely, no. Though training helps sometimes, it makes me feel in control again, and-“ he broke off, burying his head in his hands to avoid Tink’s assessing look. The smith squeezed him again, sitting as close as possible before gently prodding further. “And?” the look he got in return was equally devastated as it was shameful. “And-“ the assassin finally continued “-drinking… helps.” At Tinkers speechless expression, he seemed to feel the need to explain himself. “It dulls my senses so that I don’t react to those events that sensitive. I tried the sleep medication from the healers one time and it also worked quite well but I don’t really have access to it that frequently.”

The smith nodded, placing his free hand over Runaan’s to show him he didn’t judge the other. “So you have them a lot?”

A tiny nod.

“Most nights, yes but they, ah-well, they got better since we’ve been working together. Diversion usually manages to occupy me enough to forget about them. You once asked me why I train so much and sleep so little, well now you’ve got the answer. I bet it’s not the one you’ve anticipated.”

They sat in silence after that, neither of them willing to break the fragile clam that had settled around them. Finally, Runaan turned towards him, looking into his eyes intently. “I didn’t mean to hurt you and I am sorry you had to witness that. I hope you can forgive me.” Immediately, the short haired elf smiled, genuinely this time. “There was no harm done and it was hardly your fault. Nothing to forgive.” The relief that washed over the Assassin’s face was so evident, Tink had to chuckle. “Thank you.” He said and it sounded like the other didn’t only mean today but all the moments they had spent together since that night in the forest.

#defectum #prompt #tumblr prompt #rumowrites #rumo writes #runaan #runaan x necklace elf #tdp runaan #tinker #runaan x tinker #angst #the dragon prince #tdp fic #tdp fanfic #moonshadow elves #xadia #ask #ask amswered #dargonwriter

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rumowrites · 6 years ago

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Help!

I've finished a One-Shot (~10k words) of the Motorcycle Race AU I've been working on but it's kind of out of context since the actual story isn't finished yet. However I still think it could work on it's own.

Do you want me to post it or should I wait?

#help #runaan #tinkaan #tinker #runaan x necklace elf #tdp runaan #runaan x tinker #tdp #tdp fic #tdp fanfic #fanfiction #Motorcycle Race AU #MR AU

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rumowrites · 6 years ago

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Defectum, Ch.7.2

I just realized I never uploaded the ast few paragraphs of chapter 7 for some odd reason and I kind of feel like I’ve robbed you because they are my favourite in the whole chapter so please accept my sincere apologies and those few lines before I upload the next chapter!

While Tink was scribbling down notes, he could see the Assassin moving towards a large wooden wardrobe from the corner of his eyes. A glimpse into the opened door told him it almost exclusively consisted of uniforms and various armour parts. After looking through one of the piles, Runaan took out a sleeveless light grey shirt that he replaced with the one he was currently wearing. It was form fitting with a low-cut V-neck so that his chest mark was still visible. The dirty shirt was placed in the wash basket with a quick throw.

Once he turned towards him again, Tinker quickly averted his eyes and focused back on his sketchbook where he realised to his own horror, that he’d been sketching the other. Hastily, he turned to the next page to continue his notes and prayed Runaan hadn’t seen them.

The sketchbook itself was incriminating enough by now with all the sketches he’d done of the Assassin that couldn’t possibly be justified with fight studies.

“That should have been all.” Runaan said, leaning against the desk. He glanced down at the sketchbook. “You made a lot of drawings so far, judging by the page you’re on.” Tinker’s gaze also fell on the sketchbook that was now two-thirds filled. ”I like drawing people and weapons, it helps me visualize my thoughts. Though some pages are mostly notes.”

“Still” Runaan said thoughtfully “It’s a great talent to have. May I see the sketches from today’s training? I’m really curious.” The smith immediately froze for a few seconds, staring at the blank page in front of him. He replayed every sketch he’d made that day and finally decided they were not that incriminating. “Uh, sure.” He then opened the first page from that day, careful to avoid the last one. The first sketch was the group picture of the Assassin and the new recruits. Runaan turned on his perch on the desk until he was halfway leaning over Tink’s shoulder. “You are really good at capturing their expressions. Here, like the slight panic in Kato’s and the pride in Luna’s faces.” He pointed at two of the black and white faces. “You already know their names?” Tink wondered. After all it had been their first meeting. “Yes, of course. I expect them to address me properly so I should be able to do the same.” The smith nodded and continued to turn the pages, that made sense.

Sometimes Runaan would stop him to examine a sketch further but otherwise they stayed silent. He closed the sketchbook just before reaching the last page and moved to stand up. He felt a slight tingle from the second glass of wine on an empty stomach as he stood but his host didn’t seem to be affected at all as Runaan gracefully hopped down from his seat on the desk. “Thank you for showing me the weapons on such short notice.”

A smile appeared on the Assassin’s face, lighting up the aristocratic features. “My pleasure. I really enjoyed working with you so far.” He could basically feel his heart beating out of his chest at the warm tone. God he was falling too hard too fast.

Before he could make a complete fool of himself, Tink toned his grin down a bit and stepped out of the door. “Yeah, me too. I will tell you once the next prototype is done. Goodnight.”

“Good Night.” Runaan’s melodic voice followed him out into the night.

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rumowrites · 6 years ago

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Defectum, Ch.6

Runaan awoke with a throbbing headache. Puling one arm up to clutch his face, he rolled to his side and was suddenly faced with a rapidly approaching hardwood floor. His somewhat groggy reflexes barley managed to spare him a broken nose when he collided painfully with the ground of his training room. With a groan, he rolled onto his back, staring up to the wide beam he’d apparently been occupying. The events from last night came slowly floating back and he concluded that somehow he must have climbed up there the last night and fallen asleep. Runaan counted himself lucky that he didn’t fall down while still asleep and tried to sit up. He succeeded at the second try. The bright light shining into his eyes told him it was still before midday so the assassin hadn’t slept that long after all. A sudden wave of nausea kicked him into a sprint for the kitchen sink where he lost possession of his dinner and what he remembered to be very decent Whisky.

Runaan took a cup and filled it with water before sliding to the floor, his back against the counter. As he slowly sipped the water, the elf contemplated how he could probably get hold of this mess that was currently his consciousness. The child-king just wouldn’t leave him alone, always lurking in the back of his mind to haunt him whenever he was alone.

The new weapon and training had proven to be good diversions, effectively holding his sole attention until he was exhausted enough to sleep. Aversion was the key after all. In his head, he began to structure the rest of the week. During the time he had courses to give at the academy, the Assassin usually got up extra early to get some training of his own in before meeting the recruits at eight am sharp. He also trained in the evening after his group left since the two hours in the morning and light exercise during the day still left him restless and twitchy on most days.

The five days until his new recruits arrived slowly played out in his mind. Training early and in the afternoon. Between that, he could either get a head start on some of the paperwork or continue with the new weapon. And maybe, he thought, there would be time to visit Tinker. Something about the prospect of seeing the smith again caused his face to heat up.

What if he found the idea stupid? Runaan really wasn’t an artist after all. He quickly banned the thought into the same void his consciousness got locked up in before they could drag him down. No, he would go see Tinker, maybe even today, and ask him whether he found the weapon doable. And doable was really everything he needed right now.

It took him half an hour and a glass of water before he trusted his body enough to leave his place on the kitchen floor. Runaan then did some light exercises as if that would prevent him from throwing up again but still managed to get his blood running. By the time he was finished, the elf was still coated in a thin layer of cold sweat due to the nausea that wouldn’t quite vanish.

Afterwards, he first took a cold shower and then a hot bath, slowly feeling the life flood back into his system. It took him quite a while and a lot of scented oil before his entwined hair was back in a presentable form. He ran a brush through the still wet strands until it was silky and smooth, falling over his bare shoulders like a pearly white waterfall.

He placed all his sketches and notes in a sturdy cardboard binder and grabbed his black leather shoulder bag. Not everybody had to see him carry sketches around. The less anyone knew about him, the better. An Assassins greatest asset was anonymity and secrecy. Here, he couldn’t possibly blend in due to his high status, but he could still keep a mystical aura, make himself unpredictable. The image he’d created for everyone to see was impeccable with a few minor faults in order to make it look believable. Complete perfection was always treated with mistrust. Even the dragons themselves had flaws. No living being could possibly be entirely perfect.

Every once in a while, he lost on purpose during sparring matches or placed his arrow a fraction off centre. Never often enough to seem like he wasn’t their best but often enough to look like he had bad days, too.

That way, his fellow elves simply regarded him with a mix of awe and fear but none of them wouldn’t trust him. Too many enemies of Xadia had fallen to his blades for that.

The walk to the village was quick and undisturbed. Most people were already working or running errands, so the streets were mostly empty. He caught himself walking slower once he reached the alley where Tinkers shop was half-hidden behind a bakery. He was the only customer which didn’t really surprised him since it was still early afternoon and the streets wouldn’t be busy until the evening. Some shop owners even closed middays due to the lack of customers.

The smith was nowhere to be seen but Runaan could hear faint clanging noises that most likely resulted from a hammer meeting steel. He carefully stepped further into the shop before spotting a doorway on the far right where the noise grew louder. “Hello?” he shouted but didn’t really think anyone would answer. The noise would probably drone everything else out. The Assassin waited for a few moments before carefully following the sound through the doorway and down a rather narrow hallway whose walls were lined with a wide assertion of swords and spears. The air grew drier and hotter the further he came until the hallway opened into a fairly large room. The other elf had his back turned to him and was currently shaping a piece of glinting steel into what seemed to be an axe head. “Hello?” he tried again and immediately cursed himself as the smith stopped mid-motion and whipped his head around. “Oh, I’m sorry…” Runaan stammered “I didn’t mean to startle you.” Upon seeing who the intruder was, Tinkers gaze softened into a smile “Don’t worry. I usually don’t hear the bell at the door back here. Let me just get this done and I will be right there.” He gestured for the hallway, turning back to the orange metal on the anvil in front of him. “Could I wait here and watch?” the question was out before his brain managed to stop himself. “It’s quite interesting.” He quickly added to appear unsuspicious. Tinker just shrugged while he continued to hammer onto the slowly reforming metal. “Yeah sure. I don’t mind.” The twenty minutes the smith needed to finish the raw shape were over way too quickly in his opinion. It was almost mesmerizing to watch the steady up and down of the hammer and the confident controlled movements that slowly turned a blob of hot steel into a beautiful weapon.

Once he was done, Tinker placed the Axe on one of the heavy oak tables and took off the thick leather apron that protected him from both heat and flying sparks. Runaan immediately noticed the dark rune tattoos that were entwined with his marks, filling the gap between the two rings on his shoulder. It was rather uncommon for moonshadow elves to be tattooed but it somehow suited the smith. The thin sleeveless linen shirt Tinker was wearing had a few singed spots where the sparks found their way and generally looked like the other ever only used it to work in the forge. It looked rather good on him, Runaan decided after discretely staring while the other placed the last of his tools in their respective places. The strange warm feeling returned an he had to force the blush that crept on his face away as the smith willed a few strands of hair back, showing off his impressive biceps in the process.

“So, what can I do for you?” he asked, wiping hands and face clean of the ash and grime. It took Runaan embarrassingly long to answer, so engrossed was he in those delicate fingers threading through the piece of cloth.

“It’s about the weapon-design actually. You said you would maybe take a look and tell me whether it’s doable.” Immediately Tinker nodded enthusiastically “Yes of course! It’s been too long since I had the opportunity to experiment with something new! Just…” he started before looking down at himself “…just let me change into something less dirty. I’ll be right back.” While he vanished up a set of stairs at the far end of the workshop, the Assassin took out his notes and brought them in a relatively logical order. He passed the time until the other returned by looking at some of the displayed weapons in the shop. One spear in particular caught his interest. It was a little taller than him and had a slightly curved blade on each side. Upon further examination, he discovered that it could be broken down in the middle with a switch hidden in the hilt, thus creating two swords. Suddenly someone took it out of his hands and Runaan had to summon all his willpower to not shriek away.

“Here” Tinker explained, pressing two other buttons in the hilt that retracted the middle part until it was only two hands wide and unfolded it again to an even greater length. “It’s truly magnificent.” He praised, looking at the spear in awe. Tinker smiled at him happily in return. “Thank you. Although it’s mostly for show I guess. I’m not sure if it would be really practical in battle.”

“Are you kidding me? I have a ton of strategies in my head that would profit from a parry weapon that can be broken down to get two short-range weapons!” The smith then laughed at his enthusiasm. “Well not everyone likes their weapons as complicated as this one. The main reason why it’s still here I guess. But you wanted to show me something, right?” He pointed at the stack of paper in his hands. “Yeah, yeah sure. The drawings aren’t very good though.” Tinker just made a dismissive gesture, reaching for the parchment. “They can’t be worse than the very early drafts I do.”

After handing them over, Runaan anxiously waited for a reaction as the other scanned every sheet with seemingly increasing interest. “My idea was to incorporate a set of blades with a bow for both long and short range.” He supplied after a while. The smith nodded absently, studying one of his more recent sketches. “I think it’s doable. But it won’t be cheap, materials and all.” He finally said, an excited grin spreading across his face. “Payment won’t be an issue.” Runaan stated while placing two bags filled with coins on the table. The grin now threatened to split the others face. “That’s great! Have you got any idea of the variety of materials we could use? Xadian steel, moonstones for functionality, maybe even night copper to balance the blades…” the smith continued to list different materials and their use while simultaneously scribbling the things he said on a piece of parchment. Runaan was fascinated by the other’s enthusiasm and patiently waited until Tinker had filled two pages with ideas from the top of his head. “I would have to watch you fight.” He suddenly said, fixing him with a surprisingly piercing gaze. “What?” the Assassin had still been daydreaming and now looked slightly confused. “It would help me decide on the most suitable design for the, ah let’s call it Bowblade, if I could see how you fight.” He explained, gesturing to one of his sketches. “You know, so I have an idea how you would be using it. Things like the length of the blade and handle design are usually more influenced by functionality than decoration.” Runaan nodded slowly in understandment “Sure, you could come to the courses I teach or my own training time. I could also show you some moves here but I guess it’s better for you with an actual opponent right?”

“Yes, preferably when you fight someone equally skilled. So that you really have to fight, you know?” Tinker looked at him expectantly and made a move to hand back the papers before stopping mid-motion. “Actually, would you mind if I keep them until I’m done? You had some interesting notes in between that would certainly help me.” With a smile, Runaan nodded again, glad that the other found his notes useful. “Of course, that’s what I made them for.” He went through his training schedule in his head to determine when there would be suitable sparring sessions for Tinker. “When would you like me to show you how I fight?” he decided it was easier if he just asked when the other was free. “I can open and close the shop as I please, so I could just come to your usual training times if that doesn’t bother you. I am very discreet.” Meanwhile the smith had pulled a thick unused sketchbook from one of the drawers behind his desk and neatly labelled it “Runaan” before placing it in a bag together with a few different pencils. “Could I have a piece of paper?” Runaan asked and began to pen down his usual work week starting with the new recruits. He filled in every training session and remarked below each one whether it was meant to be at his home or the academy and alone or with partners. Tinker looked at the finished week plan for a moment before raising an eyebrow. “That’s a lot of training. You are aware that the time between your last and first training is, like, really short?”

He simply shrugged “I need the movement.” Again, the eyebrow. “Alright, according to your plan you would be training with someone in your party in roughly an hour. Would you mind if I accompany you?” the Assassin was slightly surprised to see Tinker so invested in his new order but agreed nonetheless. “If you don’t have anything to finish today. There will probably be some of the more experienced soldiers present so you will at least get a good show.”

A smirk appeared on the others face. “Oh, I have no doubts about that. Your reputation exceeds you.” He then grabbed his bag and a vest before gesturing for the door. “Let’s go!” Runaan obediently followed and together they passed the now busy streets leading out of town and towards the academy. Once there, he took the smith to his rooms in the right wing of the old stone fort. He motioned for the table in his study before vanishing in the bordering sleeping chamber to change. “Make yourself comfortable. I will be right back.”

He changed into his usual training attire that consisted of wide black pants and a sleeveless thin linen shirt. He contemplated dressing in something more official and nicer but quickly dismissed the thought. He was here to train after all. When Runaan re-entered the study, he could see Tinker sitting on the floor amidst all of his training weapons, furiously taking notes and sketching rough drafts of his blades that still looked better than Runaan’s best drawing. He quietly watched the scene before raising his voice. “You can look at the real ones, too if you like. I have most of them at home.” The smith jumped a little and nodded “Yes that would be helpful. So I can incorporate something familiar in the handles, eases the transfer.” He then stood an placed the weapons in their respective stands along the wall. The Assassin noticed him testing the weight and balance of each and every one while returning them. Something in the way he analysed every little detail fascinated him.

For today’s training, he chose two different sets of twin swords that differed in length and shape since those should be part of the new weapon. Of course, he also took his bow with a few padded arrows. He would most likely not get to use it today but took it anyways in case the others turned up later than expected.

When they stepped out into the yard, three familiar figures were already occupying their usual spot, seemingly discussing their shift plans and the best times to meet up for additional training. Tinker excused himself with the intent of searching a nice spot to sit where he wouldn’t bother anyone and Runaan continued to greet his soldiers.

“Who’s the handsome guy over there hotshot?” was Kira’s greeting to him while she discretely nodded towards the portion of wall the smith had claimed as perch. He couldn’t suppress the eye roll in response. “He is a smith and will craft a new weapon for me. You will probably see him around some more. He says he wants to see my fighting style before getting started.” She only gave him a knowing smile before stepping away to take her fighting stance. As per usual, the four started with some easier moves in changing pairs before it was three against him.

On his spot on the wall Tinker had the large sketchbook placed in his lap and was currently on his fifth motion sketch. He immediately loved drawing Runaan. His movements were so graceful and precise it was mesmerising to watch. He tried to convey as much of it in his drawings as he could. Every once in a while, he would find the other watching him with those piercing turquoise eyes of his. It always sent a shiver down his spine and he caught himself drawing a close-up of the Assassins face for a change. He also took notes on how he used the different shaped swords to figure out the best shape for the Bowblade. It would have to be slightly curved to imitate the shape of a bow but not too much so he was still able to properly use them. He also made notes of how runaan held the blades and for which manoeuvres he changed his grip on the handles.

When the fighters took a break to get something to drink, he already started to sketch out some rough design drafts and contemplated over the best mechanism to attach the blades in the middle. It wouldn’t be easy, but Tinker loved a challenge. Especially when the challenge included a handsome elf, he had now an excuse to come and watch as much as he pleased.

When the three soldiers left for their quarters and Runaan came walking over, he had over eight pages worth of sketches and notes. He felt a blush creeping on his cheeks and ears as the Assassin glimpsed on one of the pages and immediately complimented his drawing skills. They parted after a quick chat where Tinker announced he would come around some more times before starting on the final draft. Once home, he reopened the sketchbook and admired Runaan’s swift moving body until he fell asleep.

#Defectum #rumo writes #Runaan #runaan x necklace elf #tdp runaan #tinker #runaan x tinker

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