#sawyer x ridoc
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lean on me
Sawyer Henrick + Ridoc Gamlyn Sawyer runs out of painkiller and drags himself, fully clothed, into an ice-cold shower in an attempt to take the edge off. It works, but once he sits down on the tile floor, he canât get back up to turn the water off. Feeling that his rider is trapped there, freezing cold and dissociating, Sliseag reaches out to Aotrom, who sends Ridoc to the rescue. words: 3.2k đˇď¸: trying something new, so be gentle with me pls, written before the release of Onyx Storm, set 2-ish weeks after the end of Iron Flame. nonsexual nudity, brief description of Sawyerâs injury site (Rid changing his bandages) but no blood or anything, mentions of nausea and skipping meals, the word puke is used exactly once, painkiller reliance, negative self-talk â Sawyerâs self esteem issues re: the injury and not bonding in his first year make an appearance, as well as Ridoc's guilt for letting things get this bad. this could be read either as platonic or as a ship fic, if you want. thereâs mutual I love youâs in there, but nothing too romantical â and if you arenât cuddling with your homies on the regular, wyd?
âSliseagâs boy needs you.â
Ridoc is out his door and down the stairs in seconds, headed to the first-floor room theyâd moved Sawyer into after heâd been discharged from the infirmary. The door is unlocked, the room empty, but he can hear water running in the bathroom right across the hall.
âSawyer?â
No response.Â
Then he sees a person sat against the wall under the spray of one of the faucets â unmistakably Sawyer, from their red-brown hair and pale skin. Heâs still dressed. He hadnât drawn the curtain, seemingly just turned the water on and sat down under it.
âSy?â Ridoc tries again quietly, not wanting to startle him â nothing. He reaches up to turn the water off, and only then does Sawyer seem to notice his presence, looking up from his blank stare at the opposite wall.
His cheeks are wet, hair plastered to his forehead, eyes red and swollen from crying. His entire body is trembling â from pain or from the cold, Ridoc canât tell. How long has he been sitting here?
Ridoc steps into the shower and kneels beside him. Water instantly soaks into the knees of his pants, but heâs used to the cold, being an ice wielder. Regardless, he isnât focused on that right now, just on making sure Sawyer is okay.
Maybe okay isnât the right word. Thereâs clearly something wrong if heâs in the shower fully clothed, and okay might be too lofty a goal for him these days after losing more than half a leg.Â
Sawyer blinks a few times, coming back to reality and seeing the soft expression on Ridocâs face â not pity, but genuine concern and love.
Sawyer had pushed him away for two weeks, pushed everyone away and insisted heâd be fine on his own, but Ridoc is here with him now. He was willing to climb in with him, to sit across from him in the cold water and guide him back into reality. He knew something was wrong, despite Sawyerâs reassurances that he was fine, and he sought him out in hopes of fixing it.Â
âHey,â Ridoc coaxes softly. âTalk to me.â
Sawyer canât form words. Tears start to slip down his freckled cheeks, mixing with the cold shower water thatâs still dripping from every inch of him.Â
Ridoc moves closer, until heâs just inches away â hesitant, not wanting to cause him further pain.Â
Sawyer closes the gap for him, letting his head drop against Ridocâs shoulder as he continues to cry, quiet little sniffles that break Ridocâs heart right in half.
âI know it hurts, Sy. Iâm so sorry.â
He wraps the older boy in a hug, not minding the cold water that soaks from Sawyerâs clothes into his. His heart clenches as he realizes how thin Sawyer has gotten without the daily exercise, and without as much food â the healers had said something about the pain tonic reducing appetite and causing nausea, but the squad had been too relieved that he was still alive to properly focus on the instructions theyâd been given.Â
Ridoc canât help but berate himself for letting it get this bad. He should have been more careful. He should have checked in on Sawyer more often, ignored the boyâs insistence that heâd be fine in his own room at Basgiath, and that the rest of the squad shouldnât let him keep them grounded.Â
Second squad had agreed without too much protest, knowing that the fight was far from over, and they needed as many trained riders as they could get.
Still, it shouldnât have come to this.Â
âIâm so sorry,â he repeats, bringing a hand up to smooth down his wet curls. âWe should have been there for you earlier.â
Sawyer doesnât respond, but his breathing has steadied, the sniffling quieted. Heâs still shivering, leaning into Ridoc for warmth â he must have been sitting here for some time if heâs this cold.Â
âLetâs get you dried off,â Ridoc coaxes.Â
Sawyer nods against his shoulder, taking a breath to brace himself for the discomfort of standing again.Â
Ridoc rises to his knees, then his feet, hooking his arms under Sawyerâs to help him up. Sawyer pushes up off the floor, a soft cry parting his lips as the movement sends a needle of pain up his spine.
âI know, Iâm sorry,â Ridoc soothes, the only thing he can think to say at the moment. âHold on to me, itâll take the pressure off.â
Sawyer shifts his weight, making the five steps to the small bench more bearable.Â
Ridoc finds a clean-enough towel on the counter, extending it to Sawyer. âDry your hair if you can. Iâm gonna find you some clean clothes, okay? Iâll be right back, I promise.â
Sawyer makes the slightest nod of understanding, back to his slow-blinking silence.Â
Time has been reduced to the slow drip of water down his face. He doesnât know how late it is, or how long he had sat in the shower. Itâs dark out, but itâs January â it gets dark after four.Â
Ridoc is back quickly. Sawyer still hasnât dried his hair, so he takes the towel back from him, working it through the wet red curls gently. His hair has gotten long enough to cover the tops of his ears. Ridoc would offer to do something about it later, but heâs not sure Sawyer would trust him with the task. Rhi, maybe.Â
âArms up,â Ridoc coaxes.
Sawyer complies, allowing Ridoc to peel the soaked tunic off. Itâs unceremoniously dropped to the floor with a quiet splat, replaced with a soft towel that Ridoc wraps around his shoulders.
âAlright. How do you want to do the pants?â Ridoc asks gently. âWeâve seen each other naked before, so I donât care either way, but I donât want to make you uncomfortable â and I donât want this to hurt.â
âItâs going to hurt no matter what,â Sawyer says distantly, the first words heâs spoken since Ridoc found him. His voice is a raw whisper, hoarse from disuse. âI can take them off myself if I have something to lean on. Putting new ones on is always harder.â
âOkay. Whenever youâre ready,â Ridoc offers quietly, holding out two hands.Â
Sawyer wavers a bit as he stands, holding onto Ridocâs right forearm with one hand as he finds his balance, then slowly starts pulling down one side of the waistband, then the other, until they drop to the floor, a wet heap of fabric around his remaining foot.Â
Ridoc doesnât know if heâll ever get used to that sight, if itâll ever stop feeling like a punch to the gut.
Itâs not about you, he reminds himself. However uncomfortable and upset you are about this, Sawyer is probably ten times as much â itâs his body, his life thatâs changed forever.Â
Ridoc guides him back down onto the bench, kicking the soaked shorts aside, next to the shirt, and looks at Sawyer, trying to read the expression on his face.Â
âDo you want a break, orâŚâ
He shakes his head. âPass me the shirt?â
Ridoc hands him the dry t-shirt heâd found in Sawyerâs room, one of the few clean garments he had left. He doesnât ask if Sawyer wants help with this part â he gets the feeling that this is probably deeply embarrassing for him, and that he wants to do as much as he can on his own.
Sawyer tugs it over his head, easily putting his arms through the sleeves, and stepping through one leg of the boxers, pulling them up to his knee.
Ridoc extends an arm again, a silent indicator that heâs ready when Sawyer is.Â
Sawyer takes another breath, gritting his teeth as he stands, but he seems more steady this time â putting more of his weight on Ridoc, trusting the other boy to hold him up as he dresses himself.Â
Back down again. Sawyer takes a second to catch his breath, willing himself not to cry again.
âShorts too, orâŚâ
Sawyer shakes his head no. He doesnât want to go through the up-and-down again, and he just wants to sleep. Thatâs all heâs really done this week, because sleep is the only place heâs comfortable â if you donât count the nightmares, that is.Â
âOkay. Can I look at the bandage?â
Sawyer nods, exhausted but knowing that the wrapping needs to be replaced; itâs soaked, the cotton gauze swollen with water. He definitely wasnât supposed to bathe with it on, but he wasnât really in his right mind when heâd dragged himself into the shower, just desperate for any sort of relief from the bone-deep ache and the shooting pains that keep coming whenever he moves.
Ridoc unwraps the dressing gently, keeping one hand on Sawyerâs other leg in an attempt at comfort, and bracing himself for the worst, but trying to maintain a neutral expression on his face.Â
Itâs not as bad as heâd thought. It doesnât look infected, and the stitches are still holding the skin together in two intersecting, slightly-wavy lines. Theyâre probably ready to be removed â heâll ask about that tomorrow morning, when he takes Sawyer to see the healers.
Ridoc tosses the wet bandages into the trash, reaching under the sink for the basic first aid kit thatâs kept in every bathroom in the dorms. Thereâs enough gauze in there to make a passable re-creation of the neat dressing that had been on it before. Itâll only have to last the night, anyway; the healers will put on a new one in the morning.Â
âIs that too tight?â Ridoc asks, looking up at him.
Sawyer shakes his head no, eyes still closed. Heâs so tired, even after a day of doing hardly anything.
Ridoc stands, gathering the wet clothes and wringing them out over the sink. Heâll wash them tomorrow â Sawyer is running out of clean clothes, having been pretty much bedbound for the last two and a half weeks and unable to do his own laundry.
âYou ready to get back in bed?â â A nod. â âDo you want your crutches, or do you want to lean on me?â
âYou,â Sawyer says softly, blinking up at Ridoc. Heâs struggling to keep his eyes open.
Ridoc pushes down the little swell of pride at Sawyerâs choice, draping the boyâs arm across his shoulders and hooking an arm around his waist to hoist him up. He lets Sawyer set the pace for the twenty-foot walk back to his new room, making sure that heâs well-supported.Â
Thankfully, Sawyer had never warded his new room, so the door swings open easily, and Ridoc carefully deposits him on the edge of his bed, tossing the still-damp clothes in his laundry basket.Â
Looking at the clock on his desk through bleary eyes, Sawyer can see that itâs sometime between ten and eleven. Ten thirty, maybe. A reasonable enough hour to go to sleep.
Ridoc should be going to bed soon, if he wants to get a decent amount of sleep before the standard six a.m. wakeup required of the cadets that hadnât been permanently injured in the battle â everyone but Sawyer.Â
Heâs tired of being the exception. He should be out there training with them, not spending his days sleeping in an uncomfortable first-year bed.
Being back on the first floor for the third year in a row has broken him.Â
Being in this room all day reminds him of his first first year, when he was one of the only cadets who hadnât been chosen at Threshing, and thus couldnât attend most of the classes that everyone else did â leaving him to spend the bigger half of six months entirely alone.
Every hour within these walls is another reminder of his failure. Death by a thousand cuts, or whatever they say.Â
âTalk to me,â Ridoc says softly. âTell me what I can do to help you.â
âI donât know,â he whispers, his voice cracking. If Ridoc doesnât leave soon, if he doesnât stop looking at him like that, all soft and concerned, Sawyer is going to cry again. The first time was humiliating enough.
Ridoc keeps pushing, deciding yes-or-no questions might be less overwhelming. âDo you want to eat something?â
Sawyer shakes his head no quickly â he definitely doesnât want food. Even the idea of eating is enough to turn his stomach. At least Ridoc hadnât seen him puke.Â
âOkay. You should probably get some sleep, then.â
Sleep is good. Sleep will numb the pain for a while, and heâs so tired⌠probably because heâs hardly eaten since he moved out of the infirmary and the healers stopped forcing him to choke down three meals a day.Â
That had been torture.Â
Sawyer nods, starting to shuffle back from his seat on the edge of the bed. The bed is unmade, as it has been for the last week and a half, so heâs able to scoot under the duvet easily, pulling it up over himself with minimal discomfort.
Ridoc helps him get settled, draping him with an extra blanket, because Sawyerâs skin is still cold to the touch. He quickly pulls his eyes away from the space where Sawyerâs other leg should be, thatâs now just flat, only blankets laid over the mattress.
âIf thereâs anything you need, anything at all, have Sli tell Aotrom, okay?â
Sawyer nods again, the soft cotton of his pillowcase making a whispering sound under his cheek.
Ridoc straightens the books on Sawyer's desk, picking up a few dirty clothing items that Sawyer had dropped â damn tremors caused by that extra-strength pain tonic that heâd been using around the clock â and hadnât been able to bend down to reach, or even to kick toward the laundry basket. So on the floor theyâve remained, all week â until now.
Sawyer feels a spike of cold move through his chest, his pulse jumping at the thought of Ridoc leaving, telling him goodnight and disappearing for another two weeks.
âRid?â he asks in a small voice.
The other boy perks up at the sound of his friend speaking. âYeah?â
âDo you want to sleep over?â
The question hangs in the air for a moment before Sawyer starts to take it back. âObviously you donât have to. I just thought it would be nice. The way it used to be, in Aretia.â
If Ridoc catches the panic in Sawyerâs voice, he doesnât bring it up. âI thought youâd never admit it,â he says with a slow smile that Sawyer can hear, even with his eyes closed. âYou miss me.â
Itâs unclear if Sawyer can hear the thick guilt covered by Ridocâs teasing.Â
Of course he misses you, Ridoc thinks. You havenât spoken to him in a week. He needed you, but he didnât ask for help because he didnât think youâd care.Â
Youâre a shitty friend.
âShould I steal some of Imogenâs black nail polish, or do you want to make popcorn and talk about cute boys?â
âGet the fuck out,â Sawyer snorts, and then regrets it immediately â What if Ridoc canât tell that heâs joking?Â
âAlright. GTFO-ing.â
Ridoc closes the door behind him quietly.
Sawyer squeezes his eyes shut, because he knows that if he opens them, the walls will start to press in on him. This room is the same size as the one heâd had in his parentsâ home in Luceras, if not bigger, but after spending two weeks in it pretty much non-stop, it feels like a birdcage or a fish tank that heâd been shoved into.
Thatâs why heâd never warded the door. He already feels trapped here. If he becomes too weak to channel, heâd be trapped for real.
He hasnât tried to use his signet, or any of the basic magic, since the battle. Itâs unclear if he can, but Sli comes and goes in his mind, and that little red string had remained tied to his rib all through the surgery and his delirium afterward, never once fading or faltering, so he should still have access to it, but he might be too weak to do anything significant with it.
When he gets some of his energy back, heâll try again. Maybe he can do something useful with it. They can park him in a chair and have him make weapons, more of the runed daggers. That way heâd be helping, instead of dragging everyone down.Â
Thatâs exactly what heâd tried not to do, and look where it had landed him.Â
Ridoc opens the door again after whatâs probably fifteen minutes. Heâs pajama-clad, his hair damp from the shower, with a pillow tucked under one arm and his duvet knotted around his shoulders like a cape.
âYou came back,â Sawyer murmurs. Heâs already half-asleep, his eyes closed and cheek smushed into his pillow.Â
âOf course I did. Itâs not every day that your adult male best friend asks you for a sleepover.â
Ridoc scoots the desk chair aside, making space for himself to lay down on the small rug there, untying the duvet-cape.Â
Sawyer scoots himself over toward the other side of the bed, gritting his teeth. âThe floor will fuck up your back. Get up here.â
âIf you insist,â Ridoc replies with a grin.Â
Sawyer would roll his eyes if it wasnât such an effort to keep them open, about to jokingly retract his offer â only to wince at the feeling of the mattress shifting underneath him.Â
Ridoc apologizes his way under the covers, trying not to jostle him too much. âIâd offer to rock-paper-scissors over who gets to be the little spoon, but I donât want to hurt you.â
That gets a lazy laugh out of him, finally.Â
Ridoc doesnât think heâs seen Sawyer smile or laugh since before they left Aretia. Theyâd been in Battle Brief, and Ridoc had made a gods-awful pun around one of Brennanâs serious statements. It had nearly gotten the both of them kicked out of the auditorium from how hard theyâd been laughing.
âThank you for finding me,â Sawyer murmurs. âProbably would have died of hypothermia or something if you hadnât.â
His hair is nearly dry now, the almost-ginger strands curling up in odd places. Ridoc reaches over to smooth a few of them down, but they spring back up after a few seconds. He keeps doing it anyway.Â
âYou can thank Sli for that, really. He told Aotrom to tell me that you needed help. He loves you, yâknow. And he knows that none of this was your fault.âÂ
Thereâs a soft pause. âWe all know that youâd be out there with us if you could. It isnât the same without you, but until youâre healed and you can make yourself a super badass custom prosthetic and fly with us again, weâll look out for each other. And Iâll help you with whatever you need â Iâm really sorry for dropping the ball on that. I was a shitty friend, and thereâs no excuse for it, really, but Iâll try my best to make it up to you.â
Itâs a lot to process, and Sawyer is too tired to respond to all of it, but heâs able to sum it up in two mumbled words. âLove you.â
Ridoc smiles, moving his hand away from Sawyerâs hair. âI love you too, dude. Get some sleep.â
Later that night, when Sawyer rolls over and tucks himself into Ridocâs arms, he doesnât feel cold anymore, and the pain has dulled.
He decides that he wants pancakes for breakfast.
#sawyer henrick#ridoc gamlyn#sawyer x ridoc#fourth wing#fourth wing fanfic#fourth wing fanfiction#hurt/comfort
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Would anyone be interested in a fanfic about an arranged marriage between Xaden and Violet where Tyrrendor wins the Battle of Aretia, Xaden is the crown prince, and Violet is taken by Fen after the war to ensure Navarre doesnât step over the line? And Violet is raised alongside Liam and Sloane? And Liam doesnât die? And Xaden is certified simp but Violet hates him because sheâs being forced into a marriage without her consent? And thereâs a very big secret about Violet only Fen knows about? đđ
âOur armies in Aretia have fallen, your highness.â
King Tauri rose from his throne in a swift movement. His hands gripped the fine clothes he wore as he cursed.
âWhere is General Sorrengail?â He asked. He looked out of breath, even though he had barely moved.
âSheâs returning to Navarre, with her husband,â he hesitated. âThey⌠Fen Riorsonââ Tauri growled at the mention of that name. âHe⌠he has taken Sorrengailâs youngest, Violet, as hostage.â
âWhat?â he all but screamed. It couldnât be⌠Could he know about what Violet truly was?
âHe said she will stay in Aretia with them, to ensure you respect his demands as the new king of Tyrrendor.â
âFor how long?â he asked.
#fourth wing#iron flame#onyx storm#the empyrean#violet sorrengail#xaden riorson#riorgail#andarna#bodhi durran#garrick tavis#fourth wing fanfic#the empyrean series#xaden riorson fanfic#liam mairi#tairn#imogen cardulo#ridoc gamlyn#sgaeyl#brennan sorrengail#mira sorrengail#catriona cordella#violet sorrengail fanfic#xaden x violet#rhiannon matthias#sawyer henrick#the marked ones#simp xaden riorson
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hey sweetie...love ur content btw.....how do you think the fourthwing boys will be after a very bad argument
Oh I like this one, and I have some very solid ideas on how theyâd all react. So lets dive in! I am going to do this in the context that youâre in a relationship with them. A/N: If you guys want any more like this, please send them in. I absolutely love doing these.
Bodhi.
I feel like Bodhi would feel bad as soon as youâre not there. Heâd start replaying the argument in his head, freaking out heâs probably messed it all up and that youâll leave him. Pacing back and forth, muttering under his breath as he pulls at his curly hair. I can imagine him finding someone to talk to about what happened to try get some ideas on what he can do to make it better Anyone he asks saying to just go and talk to you, but heâs adamant it wonât be enough because he thinks heâs really fucked up. I see him trying to find a gift to give you as a sign of how bad he feels and to try make it up to you.
Liam.
Sweet Liam. He would be in the same boat as Bodhi where he would feel extremely bad after it and instantly regret how it went. I feel like he would be a bit more calmer than Bodhi about it, being able to formulate a plan on his own on how to show how sorry he was. I can see him making you a little figure or something out of wood as a peace offering. Heâd either leave it at your door with a note saying how sorry he was, or heâd hand deliver it depending how confident he was you wouldnât rip his head off.
Garrick.
As much as I love this man and he will always take top spot out of all the boys for me, we all know heâs going to be moody about it for a while. Especially with a very bad argument. He probably went too far and said something he didnât entirely mean in the heat of the moment. Heâd be in a mood for a while after. Spending heaps of time in the gym or training to try let off some steam. I can see Xaden or Bodhi telling him to pull his head in and fix it. Once this happens and heâs probably thought about it all, he would feel extremely bad. Heâd come up to you, tail between his legs like a scolded puppy asking for your forgiveness and he went too far. Man would have some serious grovelling to do after this.
Dain.
Dain for me really depends on the context of the argument. If he thinkâs heâs in the right you know he isnât going to feel bad about it. He will stick by his point till his dying breath unless you can give him extremely solid proof he was wrong and can sway him. And even then youâre going to need to constantly prove that to him till heâs fully on your side. He is going to be very stubborn in the aftermath of a bad argument.
Xaden.
I feel like we get a decent view on what he would be like. I think just like Garrick he would probably need some time to cool off after, but not as much time. Heâd probably need someone to knock a little sense into him, but I think he would most likely come around on his own once heâs cooled off. I can see him sparing with Liam or Garrick to get his anger out or going off on a supply run to do so. I can also see him being stubborn like Dain depending on the context of the fight. But unlike Dain I could see him being a bit more lenient on his opinion and wanting to work with you on it. But yet again, this would also depend on the context of the fight.
Brennan.
I feel like Iâve lumped all the boys who are a little bit stubborn down the bottom together. Brennan is very caring, and would no doubt feel bad for any fight he has with you. But yet again, depending on the context heâs very likely not going to budge on his opinion. I do think after some time to cool off he would be willing to talk through your side of the argument even if he wasnât going to change his stance. Heâd want to understand where you are coming from to see if there is anything he can do to help make it better for you. He would also do something to make it up to you if he wasnât going change his stance, attempt to make you dinner or plan something for the two of you.
Iâm not as confident on Sawyer and Ridoc, but Iâm going to give these a crack and hope you guys like this.
Sawyer.
As stated above, Iâm not as confident on his character. I really need to do a reread to get a better grasp on him. But we do see how caring he can be. I mean the man went all out on trying to learn sign language to talk to Jessinia (even if he stupidly went to Ridoc for help on this). So I feel like weâre going to get a very similar outcome to Bodhi and Liam where he will feel bad about it and will 100% do something to make it up to you. This man seems like heâs all about putting in the effort for someone heâs with.
Ridoc.
I wonât deny this is the one Iâm the least sure on. I think we could put him in the feels bad about it basket. Heâd also probably be completely oblivious and say you were over reacting, leading to Rhi smacking him across the head while she tells him heâs an idiot. I can see him going all out on some dramatic plan to apologise to you and it probably falling apart completely and being a complete and utter mess.
#fourth wing#fourth wing fanfic#garrick tavis#garrick tavis x reader#fourth wing x reader#fourth wing imagine#xaden riorson x reader#xaden x reader#dain aetos x reader#dain aetos#bodhi durran#bodhi durran x reader#brennan sorrengail#brennan sorrengail x reader#liam mairi#liam mairi x reader#sawyer henrick x reader#sawyer henrick#ridoc gamlyn x reader#ridoc gamlyn#xaden riorson
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Not saying âI love you tooâ to the Fourth Wing characters before they leave
Violet Sorrengail
Violetâs mind would immediately race, wondering if something is wrong but trying to keep her cool
She would try to brush it off, telling herself itâs not a big deal, but the hurt would linger
Throughout the day, sheâd find herself distracted, replaying the moment in her head
She might overanalyze every interaction leading up to it, questioning if she said or did something wrong
Sheâd send a check-in later, casually asking if youâre okay, trying not to sound too worried.
Sheâd confide in Rhiannon about it, seeking advice on whether she should be concerned
Violetâs insecurities would flare up slightly, making her wonder if youâre distancing yourself
Sheâd miss you more than usual during the day, longing for reassurance
The next time she leaves, she might hesitate before saying âI love you,â waiting to see if you say it first
Violet would gently ask you about it, trying to get to the root of the issue
She might have trouble sleeping, her mind not letting go of the small interaction
She might subtly distance herself, unsure of where you both stand.
Violet might subtly seek reassurance in other ways, like asking if youâre happy with her
Despite the worry, sheâd find herself doodling your name absentmindedly
After you finally talk about it and reassure her that itâs a prank, sheâd feel a huge weight lift off her shoulders
Xaden Riorson
Xaden would maintain a stoic expression, not letting on that it bothered him
Internally, heâd feel a mix of confusion and frustration, but heâd suppress it
He might briefly wonder if heâs to blame, questioning if he did something to cause it
Xaden wouldnât talk about it with anyone, keeping his feelings bottled up
Heâd become extra protective, channeling his emotions into making sure youâre safe
In his mind, heâd see this as a test of loyalty, waiting to see if itâs a one-time thing or a pattern
Heâd throw himself into work or training, trying to distract himself from the lingering doubt
Xaden might subtly monitor your behavior, looking for other signs of distance
Despite his tough exterior, heâd deeply long for your reassurance
He might start to feel a bit of fear, though he wouldnât show it
Heâd put up a colder exterior, trying to protect himself from potential hurt
Xaden might test your feelings subtly, seeing how you react to his affection
He might indirectly bring it up, making a vague comment about how much he values honesty
Heâd show his care through protective gestures, even if heâs feeling unsure
Once you reassure him that itâs a prank, heâd feel a mix of relief and a renewed sense of connection
Liam Mairi
Liam would be immediately worried, thinking something might be wrong
Heâd probably ask you directly if everythingâs okay, his concern clear
If you brush it off, heâd try to reassure you softly, even if heâs still a bit uneasy
Heâd be extra affectionate the next time he sees you, trying to make up for the missed words
His protective instincts would kick in, making him even more attentive to your needs
He might casually mention it to a close friend, seeking advice on how to handle it
Liam would keep a subtle watch on your mood, making sure youâre truly okay
Heâd go out of his way to do something nice for you, wanting to see you smile
Heâd worry that you might be pulling away, even if thereâs no real reason
Liam would become even more supportive, trying to show you how much he cares
He might plan a small surprise, hoping it will cheer you up and bring you closer
Heâd have a heartfelt conversation with you, wanting to clear the air
He might have trouble sleeping, his mind occupied with thoughts of you
After you talk and reassure him that itâs a prank, heâd feel a deep sense of relief, his worries melting away
Rhiannon Matthias
Rhiannon would be confused at first, not understanding why you didnât say it back
Sheâd start to doubt herself, wondering if she did something to upset you
Sheâd subtly check on you throughout the day, making sure youâre not upset
Sheâd be extra kind and gentle with you, hoping to smooth over any potential issues
Rhiannon would definitely overthink the situation, replaying it in her mind
She might seek comfort in small gestures, like holding your hand or cuddling with you
Rhiannon would feel a bit insecure, wondering if youâre losing interest
She might write you a sweet note, hoping to bring a smile to your face
Sheâd worry that something has changed between you, even if itâs just in her head
Rhiannon would be extra thoughtful, trying to anticipate your needs and make you happy
She might start to subtly distance herself, afraid of getting hurt
Sheâd have nervous energy, fidgeting more than usual when sheâs around you
Once you reassure her that itâs a prank, sheâd feel a wave of relief, her usual confidence returning
Dain Aetos
Dain would be immediately concerned, thinking something might be wrong
Heâd ask you directly if everythingâs okay, his tone serious and caring
Dain would go into overprotective mode, making sure youâre okay in every possible way
Heâd plan a special date or outing, hoping to reconnect and make things right
Dain would be extra attentive, making sure you feel loved and appreciated
Heâd reassure you with his actions, doing little things to show he cares
Dain would worry internally, even if he doesnât show it on the outside
Heâd subtly seek validation from you, looking for signs that you still care
He might have a sleepless night, his mind racing with thoughts of you
Dain would overanalyze the situation, trying to figure out if he missed any signs
He might ask again later if everythingâs okay, just to make sure
Once you reassure him that itâs a prank, heâd feel a deep sense of relief, his worry melting away
Imogen
Imogen would be confused at first, not understanding why you didnât say it back
Sheâd play it off casually, but the confusion would linger in her mind
Imogen would subtly keep an eye on you, looking for signs that somethingâs wrong
She wouldnât push you to talk about it, respecting your space
Imogen might give you a bit more space, thinking you might need it
Sheâd worry in silence, not wanting to burden you with her concerns
Imogen would be extra careful with her words and actions, trying not to upset you
Sheâd subtly seek reassurance from you, hoping to feel closer to you
Imogen would feel conflicted, not wanting to make a big deal out of it but also feeling uneasy
Doesnât talk to anyone about it as this is her personal business
She might start to subtly distance herself, unsure of whatâs going on
Once you reassure her that itâs a prank, sheâd feel a wave of relief, her worries melting away
Jack Barlowe
Jack would feel immediate annoyance, wondering why you didnât say it back
Heâd mask his insecurity with a sarcastic comment, trying to play it off
Jack might overcompensate by being overly affectionate the next time he sees you
Heâd seek validation from you, wanting to make sure you still care
Jack wouldnât talk about it directly, keeping his feelings bottled up
Heâd feel internal frustration, not understanding why it bothered him so much
Jack might make sarcastic comments, trying to cover up his feelings
Heâd go into protective mode, making sure youâre okay in every possible way
Jack would throw himself into work or training, trying to distract himself from his feelings
He might indirectly bring it up, making a vague comment about how much he values honesty
He might start to feel a bit of resentment, though he wouldnât show it
Jack might test your feelings subtly, seeing how you react to his affection
Heâd show his care through protective gestures, even if heâs feeling unsure
Once you reassure him that itâs a prank, heâd feel a mix of relief and a renewed sense of connection
Sawyer
Sawyer would play it off with a joke, not wanting to make it awkward
Despite his playful exterior, heâd feel a sting of disappointment
He might bring it up later in a casual way, just to see if youâre okay
Sawyer would keep things light-hearted, not wanting to put pressure on you
Later, when heâs alone, heâd overthink the situation, wondering if he did something wrong
The next time he sees you, heâd be extra affectionate, hoping to make up for whatever he did
He might check in with a Ridoc, casually asking if youâre okay
Despite his calm demeanor, heâd worry that youâre upset with him
Sawyer would be extra attentive, trying to gauge your mood and see if anythingâs off
Heâd plan a fun outing, hoping to reconnect and make sure youâre okay
Sawyer would avoid having a serious talk about it, preferring to keep things light
Heâd subtly look for signs that youâre still interested in him, even if itâs just in your actions
Heâd feel a bit of internal conflict, wanting to know whatâs wrong but not wanting to push you
Once you reassure him that itâs a prank, heâd feel a wave of relief, his playful nature returning full force
Ridoc
Ridoc would immediately joke about you not saying it, trying to lighten the mood
Heâd briefly wonder if you were joking or if you meant it seriously
Ridoc would pretend not to care, brushing it off with a laugh
Despite his outward calm, heâd think about it later, wondering if somethingâs up
He might bring it up in a light-hearted way later, asking if everythingâs okay
Ridoc would tease you gently about it, hoping to get a reaction
The next time he sees you, heâd be extra playful, trying to keep things light
Ridoc would worry in silence, not wanting to make a big deal out of it
Heâd keep things casual, not wanting to pressure you into explaining
Ridoc might subtly check in with you more often, making sure youâre okay
Heâd plan a fun day together, hoping to reconnect and make you laugh
Ridoc would feel a bit of internal conflict, not wanting to push you but also feeling uneasy
Heâd avoid having a serious talk about it, preferring to keep things light.
Once you reassure him that itâs a prank, heâd feel a wave of relief, his usual playful self returning
Garrick
Garrick would feel immediate concern, thinking something might be wrong
Heâd ask you directly if everythingâs okay, his tone serious and caring
Garrick would go into overprotective mode, making sure youâre okay in every possible way
Heâd plan a special date or outing, hoping to reconnect and make things right
Garrick would be extra attentive, making sure you feel loved and appreciated
Heâd reassure you with his actions, doing little things to show he cares
Garrick would worry internally, even if he doesnât show it on the outside
Heâd subtly seek validation from you, looking for signs that you still care
He might have a sleepless night, his mind racing with thoughts of you
Garrick would overanalyze the situation, trying to figure out if he missed any signs
He might ask again later if everythingâs okay, just to make sure
Garrick would become even more protective, making sure youâre safe and happy
Heâd feel a bit of internal conflict, not wanting to push you but also feeling uneasy
Once you reassure him that itâs a prank, heâd feel a deep sense of relief, his worry melting away.
#preferences#fourth wing#fourth wing violet#fourth wing xaden#fourth wing liam#fourth wing rhiannon#fourth wing dain#fourth wing imogen#fourth wing jack#fourth wing sawyer#fourth wing ridoc#fourth wing garrick#violet sorrengail#violet sorrengail x reader#xaden riorson#xaden riorson x reader#liam mairi#liam mairi x reader#rhiannon matthias#rhiannon matthias x reader#dain aetos#dain aetos x reader#imogen x reader#jack barlowe#jack barlowe x reader#sawyer#sawyer x reader#ridoc x reader#garrick#garrick x reader
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Madness Masterlist
Introduction Chapter 1 Chapter 2 Chapter 3 Chapter 4 Chapter 5 Chapter 6 Chapter 7 Chapter 8 Chapter 9 Chapter 10 Chapter 11 Chapter 12 Chapter 13 Chapter 14 Chapter 15 Chapter 16 Chapter 17 Chapter 18 Chapter 19 Chapter 20 Chapter 21 Chapter 22 - coming soon
#fourth wing#fanfiction#fourth wing fanfic#the fourth wing#liam mairi#violet sorrengail#xaden riorson#the empyrean#xaden x oc#oc#xaden riorson x oc#sgaeyl#tairn#andarna#deigh#dragons#madness#ridoc gamlyn#rhiannon matthias#imogen fourth wing#sawyer fourth wing#dain aetos
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When I Met You
(OC FMC x Liam Mairi)
Iâve decided to write a fic about an OC and Liam Mairi from Fourth Wing. Itâs going to follow the events of the first book and Iâm so excited to share it with you. This is my first fic Iâve ever written so keep that in mind while reading :)
I hope you enjoy it!
All characters except for Aurora Sallow who is my OC and the FMC of this fic belong to Rebecca Yarros. The plot of Fourth Wing also belongs to Rebecca Yarros.
Content Warnings: most of the warnings that are for Fourth Wing are also going to be for this fic. That includes: Blood, death, injury, violence and war. The only content warning I am adding is panic attacks (2).
â§ď˝Ľďž: *â§ď˝Ľďž Aurora Sallow â§ď˝Ľďž: *â§ď˝Ľďž
It's Conscription Dayâa day I'm not particularly happy to take part in, but I don't have a choice.
I was always meant to become a Scribe. I was always meant to look at books all day and spend my time transcribing them. It's what I've been studying for since I could remember.
That all changed when my parents sat me down two days ago to tell me I was required to become a Rider. My whole world was flipped upside down, my entire future ripped away from me in one 20-minute conversation.
The Riders' Quadrant is apparently in need of more Riders. I heard it's because most dragons are uninterested in bonding with humans, and I'm one of the unlucky ones who's been chosen to try and change that.
Looking around me, I see guards mounted on either side of the entrance and walking about. I see people hugging and conversing with their loved ones and the occasional person silently praying, most likely to any gods who will listen to ensure their safety. They're probably going towards the same destination as me.
Sighing, I look down and make sure my outfit is in order before fixing my hair. I tried to dress appropriately for the Riders' Quadrantâwell, as appropriately as my closet back home had to offer. I'm wearing a gray long-sleeved shirt and corset, black pants that are a bit too tight for my liking, and my favorite pair of black platform boots. I'm just about to look through my bag to double-check that I have everything when I hear a familiar voice.
It's Violet Sorrengail. We've been classmates for a really long time. She's always been really kind and someone I consider a friend. Like me, Violet always wanted to become a Scribe; we would always talk about our hopes for the future and look forward to reading books all day.
What is she doing in this line?
She's talking to her sister Mira, so I don't want to interrupt, but I want to know why she's not with the Scribes anymore. She was always among the most intelligent people in our class, if not the smartest. She was going to be the best Scribe the Quadrant ever had. I don't see her wanting to give that up, especially considering it was her dream.
The line continues to move slowly, and when there's only one person ahead of me, I start to really feel the anxiety. I don't know how I'm going to do this. I didn't know two days ago, and I sure as hell don't know now. Who knows if I'll even pass the Parapet? I could be slowly walking towards my death right now. Maybe I should have talked to my parents more and tried to convince them that I can't do this and that anyone else out there is a better fit for this than I am. But I hate disappointing people. My parents don't even know that my panic attacks are back. They were so happy and relieved that I was doing better over the last year, but it all fell apart.
"Next!" Someone calls from ahead of the line.
It's a rider, a marked rider. Along with Captain Fitzgibbons, whoâs a Scribe. "Aurora Sallow? First Violet Sorrengail, and now you?"
I give him a small smile. "I'm sorry, sir."
He nods. "It will be sad to see you go. Your future as a Scribe looked so bright."
I want to cry. Instead, I keep my small smile in place and try my best to keep my voice level. "Thank you."
As I go through the entrance, I climb the hundreds of stairs.
After what feels like 100 hours, I'm at the top of the turret, and it's raining. The turret is all stone, formed in a circular platform. The river below shines, with the sun glinting off the surface. Darkness runs through it that rivals the deep sea. I shouldn't have looked down.
Straight ahead lies the Parapet. It's a very slim bridge made of stone with nothing on either side to hold onto. It's a test to see how well you would manage while riding a dragon.
I'm screwed.
There are three riders at the entrance, but only one catches my eyeâa mountain of a man with black hair and warm, tawny skin. He turns my way, and I can see the scar running through his left eyebrow, and that's when I know who it is. Xaden Riorson.
Xaden is the son of the Great Betrayer, Fen Riorson, who led the Rebellion. All of the children of the rebels were forced to join the Riders' Quadrant in response to their parents' decisions. I bet they hoped Xaden would get killed, but they were wrong. He's a third-year Wingleader now.
And he's also kind of scary.
Once he sees me staring at him, he narrows his eyes. I'm not sure if it's with recognition or disgust.
Then, I decide to wave at him like an idiot.
He turns back to talk to the Rider beside him, pretending I don't exist.
Yeah, I'm so screwed.
"Next!" Another Rider calls, and I step forward.
#fourth wing#liam mairi#liam mairi x reader#iron flame#fourth wing fic#violet sorrengail#xaden riorson#xaden x reader#fourth wing x reader#x reader#xaden and violet#ridoc gamlyn#sawyer henrick#garrick tavis#bodhi durran#dain aetos#fics
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Semblance of Control | Masterlist
A Fourth Wing fanfic.
A/N: Here's the aesthetic for my new fanfic on Fourth Wing along with a sneak peek preview of the dialogue. When I post a new chapter, you'll also be able to find them here. I'll also update my Masterlist to include both this story and Flight of the Night.
Disclaimer: I do not own these pictures, nor do I own Fourth Wing. Those rights go to Rebecca Yarros. However, the story of my character and how she is interwoven into the story is all mine.
"Are you insane?" My breath catches in my throat. I can almost hear the laughter in his voice as he responds, "Do you really want me to answer that, love?"
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I gasp at the quiet. The void. And drop to my knees, not caring Xaden is right beside me, trying to hold on to me.
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"Oh, so I'm second choice? All right, I see how it is." She winks and the two of them laugh.
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"If you want to fight me, just say so. You don't have to be mean about it."
Last update: 09/13/2024 Total chapters: 4
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Chapter 1 05/08/2024 Chapter 2 05/25/2024 Chapter 3 06/10/2024 Chapter 4 09/13/2024 Chapter 5 - in progress
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#fourth wing#fourth wing fanfic#fourth wing x reader#fourth wing imagine#xaden riorson#violet sorrengail#iron flame#bodhi durran#rhiannon matthias#dain aetos#semblance of control#fourth wing fic#sawyer fourth wing#garrick tavis#ridoc gamlyn#brennan sorrengail
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Chapter 3 - Secrets at Sunrise*
<- previous part | masterlist | series masterlist | next part ->
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âWhere are you going?â Violetâs voice slipped out in a whisper before she could stop herself.Â
Genevieve froze mid-step, the soft crunch of gravel under her boots the only sound in the still night. She spun around, her face unreadable in the shadows, though Violet sensed the flicker of annoyance.Â
âIâm sorry?â Genevieveâs whisper was sharp, a quiet challenge. Violet immediately regretted her question but pressed on anyway.Â
âI asked, where are you going?â Violet shifted uncomfortably, trying to hide the unease in her voice. Genevieve looked her up and down scanning Violet, silently begging her to back down.Â
Gotcha, Genevieve thought, her lips twitching ever so slightly.Â
âIâm going to watch the sunrise,â Genevieve answers, her voice steady, almost amused. âAnd youâre not going to tell anyone.âÂ
Violet frowned, unsure whether to be offended or intrigued. âWhy wouldnât I?â she asked, half taunting, her tone suggesting "You donât know me at allâIâll tell whoever I want.â
Genevieve stepped closer, her eyes narrowing. âBecause,â she said, her voice soft but cutting. âI see you wrapping that pretty little knee of yours. Youâre hurt, and doesnât that make you an easy target?â She let the words sink in as Violetâs eyes widened in surprise. âI wonât breathe a word, if you keep my secret. I like to watch the sunrise. Simple as that.âÂ
Violet opened her mouth, hesitating, then asked, âWhy do you like to watch the sunrise?â There was no taunt in her voice this timeâjust curiosity.Â
Genevieve rolled her eyes, clearly annoyed. âWhy do you think? Stop asking questions. Itâs simple. You tell, I tell. Or we keep each otherâs secrets. Yes or no?â
Violet bit her lip, forcing herself to swallow her response. âYes,â She muttered. âIâll keep your secret.â
âGreat!â Genevieveâs sudden smile was unsettling, genuine but fleeting. âSee you at morning formation. And when you wrap that knee of yours, make sure you tuck in the end of the wrap. Itâs too easy for someone to grab.âÂ
With that, the smile vanished from her face as quickly as it had appeared. She gave Violet a final glance, scanning the rows of beds, then disappearing into the darkness without another word.Â
â----------------------------------------
The sky was still a blanket of deep indigo, the kind of dark that clung to the horizon before dawn. Morning dew shimmered on the front lawn of Basgiath, catching the faint starlight. It was so quiet, Genevieve could hear her own breath mingling with the night air. The moisture on the ground made her boots slick, and for a fleeting moment, as she climbed the stone wall to the top of the dormitory tower, she feared she might slip. The stones were coated in a thin layer of water, glistening like frost. The windowsills she passed were slick as well, threatening to betray her with the smallest misstep. It wasnât a high climb, but the thought of falling, of losing her grip without even catching the first light of sunrise gnawed at her.Â
As she neared the top, the night sky began to soften. The dark hues gave way to shades of lavender and pale blue. The horizon glowed faintly, signaling the inevitable arrival of the sun. It was then that Genevieve saw himâa silhouette standing on the roof, a figure cut out against the shifting sky. She couldnât make out his features, but his stance was enough to make her stomach drop. There was something about the way he stood, so still, that made her instinctively wary. Fight or flight stirred within her, but before she could decide whether to retreat down the ladder or confront him, he spoke, his voice smooth but unmistakably commanding.Â
âWhat are you doing up here, first-year?â
That voice. Of course, it had to be him. Xaden Riorson. She mentally groaned, feeling a mixture of irritation and dread settle in her chest. He always had a way of appearing when she least wanted him to.Â
âI could ask the same of you, wingleader,â she shot back, surprising herself with the steadiness in her tone. She sounded almost defiant, like she was talking to General Sorrengail instead of the infamous Xaden Riorson.Â
He raised an eyebrow, though she couldnât see it in the dim light. His posture shifted, radiating authority. âI thought I asked first,â he said, his words dripping with the kind of superiority only someone in his position could muster. âAnd you shouldnât talk back to those above you.âÂ
Genevieve resisted the urge to roll her eyes. His presence was as suffocating as ever, and the power dynamics at Basgiath were always exhausting. âIâm watching the sunrise,â she answered bluntly, her voice laced with mild annoyance. She wasnât doing anything wrong, after all. âIs that what you wanted to hear, wingleader?âÂ
Xadenâs dark eyes narrowed, scrutinizing her. His gaze was sharp, almost calculating, as though he were piecing together a puzzle. The riders in this quadrant didnât get up early for trivial things like sunrises. They used every spare moment to rest, knowing full well how grueling the days were. No one with any sense would climb a rock wall slick with dew to see the sun rise. No one, that is, except her.Â
âMost first years would rather be resting,â he said slowly, his tone tinged with suspicion. âYet here you are, alone, watching the sunrise. Why?âÂ
Genevieve met his glaze evenly, refusing to flinch under his intense scrutiny. It felt as though he could see through her, as though his eyes were searching for something deeper, some hidden motivation. âYou canât afford to miss a sunrise if you donât know when the next one will come,â she replied, her voice steady, almost philosophical. âAnd maybe I prefer the peace of the sunrise over the tension of the dorm halls.âÂ
Xadenâs expression shifted, a hint of something darker passing over his features. âPeace,â she said, his voice low and dangerous. âIs a luxury you canât afford at Basgiath. Especially if you keep making enemies.âÂ
Her eyes flashed with defiance. âWho says Iâm making enemies?â she shot back, the words sharp. âIâm just minding my own business.âÂ
And trying to carry out my mission.Â
Xadenâs lips curled into a smirk, the kind that sent a chill down her spine. His eyes, flecked with gold, gleamed in the low light of dawn. âCareful, first year,â he warned, his voice a whisper of amusement mixed with something else she couldnât quite name. âMinding your own business doesnât mean the rest of us will mind ours.âÂ
Genevieveâs fists clenched at her sides, but she didnât back down. âIs that a threat?â she asked, voice hard.Â
His smirk widened, but his tone softened, almost gentle now, though the tension between them was palpable. âNo,â he whispered, stepping closer. âItâs a warning. You have no idea what youâre playing with.âÂ
Her eyes narrow. What does he know?
âAnd do you?â she countered, her pulse quickening. There was something about the way he looked at her, like he was peeling back layers of armor sheâd spent years crafting.Â
For a brief moment, Xaden didnât answer. His gaze lingered on her face, taking in the scar that ran from her jaw to just beneath her eye. It was a scar that told a story of violence and survival, a story he seemed to recognize. It was a scar that told a story of violence and survival, a story he seemed to recognize. She wasnât just a first year cadet. She was someone who had been through hell and returned, a kindred spirit in a way.Â
âIâm playing a game of survival, cadet,â he finally said, voice low, almost reflective.Â
âMy name is Genevieve Hale, not âcadet.ââ She snapped, frustrated with being reduced to nothing more than a rank, than a number.Â
âI know,â he replied, a strange glint in his eyes. âI knew your sister.âÂ
The revelation struck her like a blow to the chest, leaving her momentarily speechless. Before she could respond, Xaden turned and walked toward a hidden door at the side of the tower. Just as he reached it, he glanced back over his shoulder, his expression unreadable.Â
âOh, and just for future reference,â he added casually, âdonât climb the side of the tower. Thereâs a staircase for a reason.âÂ
And with that, he disappeared, leaving Genevieve alone on the rooftop with nothing but the fading stars and the slowly rising sun. The dawn had finally broken, painting the sky in hues of gold and pink, but the warmth it brought did little to chase away the chill that Xadenâs words had left behind.Â
â---------------------------------------------
The reading of the death roll feels hurried to Genevieve, too rushed for her liking. These are names of the deadâpeople whose lives were snuffed out in an instant. Yet, they are only granted the briefest of acknowledgments before being commended to Malek, the god of death, for the small mistakes they made. Maybe they missed a step on a slick stone bridge, or maybe fear caught up with them at the wrong moment. Either way, their fates are sealed, and now their names are burned into fleeting memory, only to fade just as quickly. The moment is somber, but it passes almost as swiftly as the names themselves. The cadets are dismissed soon after, the wingleaders and squad leaders shepherding the first years with an almost mechanical precision. For the second and third years, the movements are routine, practicedâthis chaos is second nature to them.Â
âFirst years, at least one of you better have memorized your academic schedule but now!â Dain Aetos, Genevieveâs squad leaderâs voice booms, carrying over the squad with an air of forced authority that Genevieve canât help but find slightly ridiculous. She fights the urge to roll her eyes as he continues, âStick together. I expect every single one of you to be alive when we meet this afternoon in the sparring gym.âÂ
Sparring. Genevieveâs heart skips with excitement at the word. Sparring? I forgot about that! Genevieve smiles, her time is coming. This is where she excels.Â
Meanwhile, Violet, standing just a few feet away, is having the opposite reaction. Sparring? Fuck! I forgot about that. A grimace pulls at her features, and she looks visibly uncomfortable. Rhiannon, caught between the two, shifts awkwardly, trying to manage the whirlwind of emotions on either side of her. Genevieveâs bubbling excitement is more than Rhiannon could ever imagine being on her face, and Violetâs distress couldnât be more obvious.Â
âSawyer!â Dain calls out, interrupting the moment. Sawyer, a repeat first year, snaps his head up at the sound of his name. Genevieve has heard the rumorsâSawyer failed to bond with a dragon during last yearâs Threshing and now faces the grueling ordeal of repeating the first year all over again. Genevieve canât imagine anything worse. Sheâd rather die than endure such humiliation.Â
âIâll get them there,â Sawyer says confidently, stepping up as the rest of the squad prepares to move. Dain and the upperclassmen stay behind as the first years break formation, leaving the second and third years behind. Now, all eyes are on Sawyer.Â
âWeâve got twenty minutes to get to class,â he shouts at the group. âFourth floor, second room on the left in the academic wing. Grab your stuff and donât be late.â Without waiting for anyoneâs response, Sawyer strides ahead, leaving the rest of them scrambling to keep up.Â
âThat must be tough,â Rhiannon muses, glancing between Violet and Genevieve, who still refuse to directly speak to each other without her presence as a buffer. âGoing through all this again, after anything.â
âBetter than being dead,â quips a voice from behind them. Genevieve turns to see a smart-ass brunette from their quad, the first to put into words what she herself was thinking. A grin tugs at her lipsâshe likes him already.Â
âRidoc Gamlyn,â he replies, falling into step beside her. âYouâre Genevieve Hale?âÂ
She nods, biting her tongue from saying something else stupid.Â
âThatâs true,â Violet chimes in unexpectedly, clearly agreeing with Ridocâs earlier statement.Â
âI heard that if a first year survives Threshing without bonding, they get another chance if they want it,â Rhiannon adds, still trying to engage Violet. âIsnât that insane? They could just as easily die the second time around.âÂ
Her comment hangs in the air, and at some point, Violet slips out of the conversation with a quiet murmur, but Genevieve barely notices. Her attention is elsewhere.Â
âWould you rather drop out?â Ridoc asks, a playful glint in his eye.Â
Genevieve lets out a short laugh. âAs if that was ever an option once youâre here.âÂ
Their conversation flows easily, without the tension that Violetâs presence seems to bring. Genevieve feels the squad beginning to gel, to form something cohesive and solid. In this moment, she knows that theyâll make itâthat this group will stick together. It feels safe, steady, like no one here is going to die anytime soon. For the first time in a long time, Genevieve allows herself a sliver of hope.Â
â---------------------------------------
Geneiveveâs eyes swept across the sparring gym, meticulously noting who was present and who wasnât. She labeled each of the squads, organizing them first by the amount of students per yearâone group of first, second, and third years from each wing from various squads. Among them was Jack Barlowe, the boy Violet couldnât seem to escape. Genevieve expected a fierce match between the two of them, especially since todayâs challenges were chosen by the cadets themselves, and she was a Sorrengailâa thoroughly created and purposefully prepared weapon.Â
Today was just for assessments, but Violetâs anxiety was tangible, almost electric in the air. An off putting contrast to the preconceived notion Genevieve held of her.
âYouâre really nervous about this?â Rhiannon asked, her surprise genuine. âI mean, youâre a Sorrengail, youâd think a Sorrengail kid would be bred for battle.âÂ
Exactly my thoughts, Genevieve confirmed in her own head, but didnât say it out loud.Â
âMy sister and brother were,â Violet replied, her voice edged with frustration. âI was trained to be a scribe. Thatâs why Iâm so good at battle briefings, history, physics, everything thatâs based on knowledge. But hand-to-hand? Thatâs where I suck.â
âI could offer some tips on surviving combat training,â Sawyer chimed in from Rhiannonâs other side. âHistoryâs not really my thing, though.âÂ
Rhiannonâs eyes gleamed mischievously. âHow about a trade? We help you with combat, and you help us with history. Deal, Sawyer? Violet?â
âAbsolutely,â Sawyer said, extending his hand.Â
âDeal,â Violet agreed, though her throat tightened as her hand met his. She half-smiled, her mind still half-worried. âBut I think Iâm getting the better end of this.â
Sawyer turned to Genevieve, who had been standing nearby, quietly observing the conversation. âWhat about you, Genevieve? Are you in?âÂ
âNo,â she replied flatly, her attention fixed on the mats.Â
âOh, come on, you must struggle with something,â Rhiannon teased. âWhat about battle brief? You didnât say a word in class. Violet could help.âÂ
My stamina is more than lacking right now, maybe I shouldâ no! Genevieve, what are you thinking?
âNo,â Genevieve repeated, more firmly. âIâm not asking Sorrengail for help, and Iâm not training her.âÂ
Sawyer and Rhiannon exchanged glances, sensing the rising tension between the two girls.Â
âWhat if I need combat help?â Rhiannon pressed, her lie barely convincing. âI could help you with physics. I saw how lost you were in class.âÂ
Genevieve rolled her eyes but couldnât deny it. Physics had always been a struggle, and Rhiannonâs offer was more than tempting. She sighed, rubbing her forehead in annoyance before giving in.Â
âFine. But Violetâs your responsibility.âÂ
Rhiannon and Sawyer exchanged satisfied nods, saying in unison, âDeal.âÂ
The moment was interrupted when Rhiannon was called to spar with a boy named Tynan, and Violet was paired against a second-year with striking pink hair. As they left for their matches, Violet whispered a prayer under her breath, hoping today wouldnât be the day she met her end.Â
Genevieve remained, her focus unwavering as she waited for her own match to be called.Â
âHale! Barlowe! Third mat!â came Emeterriorâs call, snapping her to attention.Â
Jack Barlowe, despite already having fought earlier, looked ready for another round. He stood at the edge of the mat, grinning with overconfidence, his body loose as he stretched. Heâd already killed one opponent today, and his newfound reputation for brutality hung in the air like a dark cloud. But Genevieve wasnât shaken.Â
Her muscles coiled with anticipation, her heart hammering a relentless rhythm in her chest. She lived for thisâthe clash of fists, the thrill of the fight. She rolled her shoulders, loosening up as she locked eyes with Jack. His grin widened, a mockery of what was to come.Â
âReady to dance, traitor?â he taunted, his voice dripping with scorn.Â
Genevieve didnât respond. Her silence was her answer as she shifted into a fighting stance, light on her feet. The signal was given.Â
Jack struck first, a quick jab aimed at her head. Genevieve dodged it effortlessly, countering with a swift low kick. He blocked it with his shin, the force of the impact vibrating through both of them. They circled each other like two predators stalking their prey, exchanging blows without yielding ground.Â
Jack had power, each of his hits packed with raw strength, but Genevieve was faster. She wove through his attacks, ignoring the thrum of her heart and how out of breath she was, slipping just out of reach with each lunge. Jack tried to grab her, but she spun away, delivering a sharp punch to his ribs. He grunted, momentarily winded, but recovered quickly, his eyes narrowing.Â
âYouâre out of breath,â he muttered through gritted teeth, taunting her. âItâs not even been ten minutes. You canât keep this up.âÂ
He advanced again, more calculated this time. Genevieve could see his tacticâhe was trying to corner her, limit her space to maneuver. She let him think he was succeeding, catching a few fleeting breaths as she backed up toward the edge of the mat. His confidence swelled, and as he prepared for what he believed would be the decisive blow, she made her move.Â
In a fluid spin, Genevieve swept her leg low, knocking Jackâs feet out from under him. He hit the mat hard, breath rushing from his lungs. She followed with a precise knee to his chest, pinning him down, her forearm pressing into his throat. His eyes widened in shock, the weight of defeat settling in.Â
Leaning in close, Genevieveâs breathless voice was cold, barely more than a whisper. âIf you ever even think about going after Sorrengail, Iâll make sure this mat is the least of your worries.â
For a moment, everything seemed to pause. Jackâs chest heaved as he struggled for breath, his gaze locked onto hers, searching for any sign of mercy. But there was none. She was unrelenting, her grip firm.Â
Finally, with a tap on the mat, he surrendered.Â
Genevieve stepped back, releasing him. Jack coughed, scrambling up to his feet, his pride more battered than his body. She extended a hand to help him up, but he ignored it, mumbling, âyouâre lucky this ended before your lack of air caught up to you.âÂ
âAnd youâre weak,â she shot back, her voice sharp as steel. âNext time you call someone a traitor, make sure you can back it up.âÂ
As she walked off, Ridoc, Sawyer, and Rhiannon shared a glance, none of the daring to say a word as she passed.Â
âRemind me never to get on her bad side,â Sawyer murmured, still processing the scene.Â
âPoor Violet,â Rhiannon added, imagining what awaited her friend in the upcoming challenges.Â
Ridoc grinned. âWas it just me, or was that kind of hot?âÂ
Rhiannon cast a side-eye at the boy standing next to her. âYouâre weird.âÂ
â---------------------------------
On the rooftop the next morning, Genevieve sat alone, a small, rare smile tugging at her lips. Above her, the sky was still painted with stars, shimmering clear against the deep blue of pre-dawn, and a silence enveloped her in a way that felt almost sacred. The world lay in a still slumber, save for the gentle calls of morning doves echoing from the treetops. This quiet moment felt like a glimpse of peaceâa fleeting grace amid all the turmoil, a reminder of something sheâd nearly forgotten.
The creak of the stairwell door broke the silence, followed by the soft thud of heavy footsteps. She didnât need to turn to know who it was.Â
âI didnât realize this would become a morning ritual, Hale.â Xadenâs deep voice broke the silence, and he settled beside her, leaving enough space for comfort. Together, they dangled their feet over the edge of the roof, letting the wind brush past them like a shared secret.Â
She shrugged lighty. âNeither did I.â Her voice was soft, stripped of its usual edge, as if it, too, was still waking up.Â
They sat in silence for a while, the sky brightening with every passing second, casting the world in a gentle glow.Â
âWhat happened yesterday, on the mat?â he asked, his voice almost hesitant.Â
Genevieveâs expression tightened. âBarlowe called me a traitor,â she muttered, bitterness lining her words. âIâve done nothing to betray Navarre. Whatever my father did or my sister had done, I was kept in the dark.âÂ
Xaden gave a slow nod, his gaze distant. âYeah, itâs hard to be called a traitor, believe me I know,â he murmured. âYou really donât know anything about them? About your father, or your sister?âÂ
âI mean, I know who they are, I just donât know what they did.â She shook her head, her mind turning back to memories she rarely revisited. âWhen my father became a general, I was nine. My mom didnât want us following him around, so we moved in with my grandmother in Aretia. My father visited maybe once a year after that. My mom trained my sister and I at her motherâs house until my sister had to leave for Basgiath, and the same week she left for Basgiath, the entire rebellion collapsed. My father died fighting General Sorrengail and my sister was somewhere along the road on the way to Basgiath. Three years later, my sister was killed in some petty skirmish.â She looked away, her gaze fixed on the horizon as the sun began to rise, casting a soft, golden warmth over her face.Â
Xaden was quiet, watching her. Then, he spoke carefully. âOur fathers believed in the same vision, the same freedom.âÂ
And she looked back at him, her eyes narrowing as a surge of emotions overwhelmed herâconfusion, betrayal, anger. Sheâd been kept in the dark her entire life, punished for things sheâd never even know. Her fists clenched, nails pressing into her palms.Â
She was always hidden from that world. She didnât know anything.Â
âSo everyone hates me because of his choices. Iâm guilty by blood.âÂ
âItâs more than that,â Xaden nodded. âTo them, weâre a symbol. A reminder of the wounds they carryâwounds that are still bloody and raw.âÂ
Genevieveâs jaw tightened. âBut I had no choice in this. I didnât even know.â
His gaze softened, a flicker of understandingâor was that⌠guiltâflashed in his eyes. âI know. So Iâm telling you now. You deserve to know just as much as I do. But it wonât change how they see you. Youâll always be fighting against their perception, their hate.âÂ
She looked away once more, her gaze on the dawnâs growing light. As she took in the world bathed in the morning glow, she felt a strange clarity settling within her. âI wonât be defined by their hate or my fatherâs actions. I want to be my own person, make my own choices.âÂ
Xadenâs tone was firm, almost challenging. âThen you need to decide what youâre going to do with your truth. You can let it weigh you down, or you can use it to prove them wrong. To rise beyond their hate.âÂ
The words hung between them, and for a moment, she felt everything she had lost, and everything she had yet to gain. She took a shaky breath. âEasier said than done.â she huffed.Â
Xadenâs gaze flickered to her shoulder, but he remained fully in place, steady as stone. âYou can.âÂ
She met his gaze, feeling the fire in his eyes light something within her. âI guess then Iâll survive. And Iâll fight. But for me this time.âÂ
A shadow of a smile touched his lips. âYouâre so weirdly confusing and cryptic.âÂ
She shrugged. âIt takes one to know one.âÂ
Silence settled once more, and the sun finally broke the horizon.Â
âI guess weâre both just trying to outrun our fathersâ shadows, arenât we?âÂ
âMaybe,â he replied, his voice gruff. âBut maybe itâs not about running. Maybe itâs about learning to live with them and become something more.âÂ
The golden rays of light stretched across the world, filling her with a quiet, determined strength. âSo Iâll become something more. Something better.âÂ
And as the morning rays of the sun crested the horizon, casting their warmth over Basgiath, Genevieve felt a new resolve settle within her heart. With each dawn, she would rebuild herself from the ashes of her past, a phoenix forged from fire and defiance.
---------------------------
Hey everyone! New update here~ I tried to get this out within a timely manner because I knew you guys were waiting!
If you enjoyed, please leave a like, kudo, heart or whatever it is called and comment! I want to know what everything is thinking!
see you guys soon~
#fourth wing#fourth wing imagine#fourth wing x reader#fourth wing xaden#liam mairi#violet sorrengail#xaden and sgaeyl#xaden riorson#xaden riorson x reader#garrick tavis x reader#garrick tavis#bodhi durran#ridoc gamlyn#sawyer fourth wing#liam mairi x reader#the wounded healer
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Iron Flame lines that have altered my brain chemistry:
"She made her choice, and it wasn't you. It will never be you."
"I'd rather you scream at me than pretend everything is all right with silence."
"then what about the wabern, or whatever you called them?"
"Do I know something about the Archives that you don't?"
"And I still don't regret it, Vi. Not one second."
"You're all right... I'll be right here. I'm not going to leave you."
I look up into the wrath of Dunne in the form of gold-flecked onyx eyes.
"My heart only beats as long as yours does, and when you die, I'll meet Malek at your side."
The entire cliff, above and below, echoes it, as if the gryphons grieve the loss of the flier as one.
"You've earned an honorable death."
"My house. My chair. My woman."
"Look at how beautiful you are, Violet, coming for me on Tyrrendor's throne."
"That trick you mentioned? You know, with the fingers? Thanks."
"I fucking love you."
"I'm sorry. I choose your life, too. You are mine. I can't let you die."
"Less than a minute."
#iron flame#rebecca yarros#xaden riorson#the fourth wing#violet sorrengail#my post#violet x xaden#rhiannon#ridoc#garrick#sloane#cat#imogen#sawyer#mire#brennan#general lilith sorrengail#jesinia#maren#syrena#tairn#andarna#sgaeyl#dain#quotes#spoilers
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Feelings that come back,and feelings that never left.
Xaden Riorson x OC (Irellya Aetos)
A small peek at my new fanfic + quotes.And yes,Iâm alive,apparently,lol.
ââŚWhat happens when the girl who is described as the embodiment of winter - cold,icy,detached,deadlyâŚyet so incredibly beautiful,falls in love?The only right answer:chaos.â
-
ââŚBut that girlâŚcould it be?Indeed it was.The tiny clumsy girl he had saved from drowning all those years ago.Now standing in front of him,shooting him the darkest glare he had ever received from a woman.WellâŚsome people never change,so it seems.â
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âEmptiness in her eyes.But a storm in her soul.â
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Irellya Aetos. Sister of Dain Aetos. Adopted (p.s:She LOATHES Colonel Aetos,so yeah,get ready for that).Born on the 21st of December,on the Winter Solstice.
Irellya,having wished to be a healer,and having spent most of her years studying herbs and magic,alongside other topics she simply found fascinating,is forced by her father to enroll into the riderâs quadrant.Just as Violet,her best friend,had been,by her mother,which,honestly,Irellya wasnât particularly fond of either.
Although she isâŚoddâŚand does not look as one would perceive ânormalâ,that doesnât mean she will be stepped on.
Because those who mess with her,or anyone she loves,end up in two ways:DeadâŚor damaged beyond repair.
-
Irellya:Aesthetic board
#fourth wing#rebecca yarros#fourth wing by rebecca yarros#iron flame#my writing#my ocs#liam mairi#violet sorrengail#mira sorrengail#xaden riorson#brennan sorrengail#sgaeyl#tairneanach#xadenviolet#fourth wing xaden#xaden and sgaeyl#xaden pov#xaden x reader#sawyer henrick#ridoc gamlyn#imogen cardulo#bodhi durran#garrick tavis#dain aetos#fourth wing fanfic#rhiannon matthias#onyx storm#original character#fem oc#fanfic
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Rhiannon: Alright Vi, what's your secret?
Violet: I'm in love with Xaden.
Sawyer: I'm sorry?
Violet: Xaden. I'm in love with Xaden Riorson.
Ridoc: Yeah, I don't think she knows what a secret is.
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It just dawned on me⌠what if Brennanâs signet is mending because what he wanted most in the world was to help Violet with her pain? They say signets are what the rider is at their core and, despite his many flaws, Brennan loves Violet.
He grew up watching his little sister âsomeone he should keep safeâ always in pain, always breaking, always crying, and it made him wish he could do something about it, so his signet gave him a chance to help her. Because, back then, before the venin and the Battle of Aretia, Brennan was first and foremost a brother, Violetâs brother.
#fourth wing#iron flame#onyx storm#the empyrean#violet sorrengail#xaden riorson#riorgail#andarna#bodhi durran#garrick tavis#brennan sorrengail#mira sorrengail#sorrengail siblings#brennan x naolin#naolin#the empyrean series#liam mairi#imogen cardulo#ridoc gamlyn#sawyer henrick#rhiannon matthias#tairn#sgaeyl
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Violet: If I fall⌠Xaden: Iâll be there to catch you. Ophelia: *looks at Garrick* What if I fall? Garrick: Then Iâll fall with you, never leaving your side. Ridoc: *watches these two interactions* Ridoc, to Sawyer: And if I fall? Sawyer: Iâll be the one who pushed you.
#fourth wing#garrick tavis#the fourth wing#the empyrean#fourth wing incorrect quotes#ridoc gamlyn#sawyer henrick#violet sorrengail#bodhi durran#lost sister incorrect quotes#yes im doing this for my oc's#garrick tavis imagine#garrick tavis x oc#angstywaifu incorrect quotes
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"Are you really going to stand here and compare secrets with me?"
"It's not the same." He winces.
"It's exactly the same!" I grip the strap of the bag to keep from jabbing him in the chest with my finger. How fucking dare he. "I'm researching the wards for you."
"Why do you think I'm so angry?" The tension in his eyes, his posture, his tone equals mine
"Because you don't like being on the other end of secrets."
"What the hell is going on?" Sawyer asks from the hallway.
"I...uh..." Ridoc scratches the top of his head. "I think they're fighting."
"That has.... How long have you been hiding this from me?" Xaden questions.
"They're not even... speaking." Rhiannon mutters.
"I haven't hidden shit from you. I've simply told you selective truths."
He draws back like I've hit him.
-Iron Flame
#quotes#book quotes#literature#books & libraries#life quotes#relationship quotes#rebecca yarros#the empyrean#iron flame#violet sorrengail#xaden riorson#xaden x violet#violet x xaden#xadenviolet#rhiannon matthias#sawyer henrick#ridoc gamlyn
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Madness - Chapter 21
Hello, there readers. Here is the new chapter. Enjoy :) And as always you're all awesome! â¤ď¸
Donât freak out if you canât immediately channel your dragonâs powers, Mira. Yeah, I know you have to be the best at everything, but this isnât something you can control. Theyâll channel when they feel youâre ready. And once they do, youâd better be ready to manifest a signet. Until then, youâre not ready. Donât push it.
âPage sixty-one, the Book of Brennan
This really isnât necessary.â Violet glances sideways at Liam as we make our way toward the door of the Archives. The cart doesnât even squeak anymore. He fixed that the very first day.
âSo youâve told me for the last week.â He shoots her a grin, revealing a dimple.
âAnd yet youâre still here. Every day. All day.â
âCome on, Vi. Donât be like this.â I chided her. âAdmit that you actually like him. Liam is awesome, you know.â I wink at her.
âShut up, Aelin.â She retorts but blushes so hard, her face is almost red.
And thatâs it. Liamâs charm is working. Heâs courteous, funny, and ridiculously helpful. He makes it difficult to loathe his constant presence. I mean I tried to avoid him when we first met, but somehow he wormed his way into my life. And Violet canât hate him either. Even though he leaves wood shavings in little piles everywhere he goes. The guy is constantly whittling with that smaller knife of his. Yesterday he finished the figurine of a bear.
âUntil otherwise ordered,â he answers to Violetâs remark.
I shake my head at them as Pierson jolts upright at the Archives doors, straightening his cream tunic. âGood morning, Cadet Pierson.â
âYou as well, Cadet Melgren, Cadet Sorrengail.â He offers us a polite smile, which dies as he glances at Liam. âCadet Mairi.â
âCadet Pierson,â Liam responds, as if the scribeâs tone hadnât completely changed.
My shoulders tense as Pierson hurries to open the door. Maybe itâs just that I havenât been around marked ones before Basgiath, but the outright hostility toward them is becoming glaringly, uncomfortably obvious to me.
We walk into the Archives and wait by the table just like every other morning.
âHow do you do that?â Violet asks Liam in a hushed whisper. âHandle when people are that rude without reacting?â
âYouâre rude to me all the time,â he teases, drumming his fingers on the handle of the cart.
âBecause youâre my babysitter, not becauseâŚâ
âBecause Iâm the son of the disgraced Colonel Mairi?â His jaw ticks, his brow furrowing for a heartbeat as he looks away.
I silently squeeze his shoulder and he faintly smiles at me.
âI guess Iâm really no better, though. I hated Xaden on sight, and I didnât know a single thing about him.â Violet says softly.
Liam scoffs, earning us a glare from a scribe near the back corner. âHe has that effect on people, especially women. They either despise him for what his father did or want to fuck him for the same reason, just depends on where we are.â
âYou actually know him, donât you?â She cranes her neck to look up at him. âHe didnât just pick you to shadow me because youâre the best in our year.â
âJust now catching on, huh?â
âHey, take it easy, Liam. I needed time too. Itâs not that obvious.â I elbow him in the ribs.
A grin flashes across his face, then he looks toward Violet. âI would have told you that on the first day if you hadnât been so busy huffing and puffing about the pleasure of my company.â
I roll my eyes as Jesinia approaches, her hood up over her hair. âHey, Jesinia,â I sign.
âGood morning,â she signs back, her mouth curving in a shy smile as her gaze darts up to Liam.
âGood morning.â He signs with a wink, clearly flirting.
It shocked me to my toes that first day that he knew how to sign, but honestly, I should have known. Heâs awesome at everything.
âJust these today?â Jesinia asks, inspecting the cart.
âAnd these.â I reach for the list of requests amid their obvious glances and hand it to her.
âPerfect.â Her cheeks flush and she studies the list before putting it in her pocket. âOh, and Professor Markham left before his daily report arrived to teach your briefing. Would you mind taking it over?â
âHappy to.â Violet waits until sheâs pushing the cart away from us, then smacks Liamâs chest. âStop it,â she whispers out loud.
âStop what?â He watches her until she turns the corner at the first set of shelves.
âFlirting with Jesinia. Sheâs a long-term-relationship woman, so unless thatâs what youâre looking forâŚjustâŚdonât.â
Ohhoo, Violet are you jealous?
His eyebrows hit his hairline. âHow does anyone think long-term around here?â
âNot everyone is in a quadrant where death is less of a chance and more of a foregone conclusion.â She says as she tries to calm herself down.
âSo youâre saying that some people still try to make cute little things like plans.â
âExactly, and those some people is Jesinia. Trust me, Iâve known her for years.â
âRight. Because you wanted to be a scribe when you grew up.â He scans the Archives with an intensity that almost makes me laugh. As if thereâs any chance someone is going to lunge out of the shelves and come after Violet.
âHow did you know that?â She lowers her voice as a group of second-years passes, their expressions somber as they debate the merits of two different historians.
âI did my research on you after I wasâŚyou knowâŚassigned. And Aelin is really gossipy.â He shakes his head. âIâve seen you practicing this week with those blades of yours, Sorrengail. Riorson was right. You would have been wasted as a scribe.â
âHey, Iâm not âgossipyâ, you moron.â I scowl at him.
âThat remains to be seen.â She answers both of us.
At least challenges havenât resumed. Guess enough of us are dying during flight lessons to hold off on killing more through hand-to-hand.
âWhat did you want to be when you grew up?â Violet asks suddenly.
âAlive.â He shrugs.
âHow do you know Xaden anyway?â
âRiorson and I were fostered at the same estate after the apostasy,â he says, using the Tyrrish term for the rebellion.
âYou were fostered?â Her mouth drops open.
Fostering the children of aristocrats was a custom that died out after the unification of Navarre more than six hundred years ago.
âWell, yeah.â He shrugs again. âWhere did you think the kids of the traitorsââhe flinches at the wordââwent after they executed our parents?â
âI didnât think.â She admits it in a meak voice.
Oh, Vi. I didnât know her mother never mentioned it to her. It seems I am much more informed on the subject. Thanks to The GeneralâŚ
âMost of our great houses were given to nobles who had remained loyal.â He clears his throat. âAs it should be.â
I donât bother agreeing with whatâs obviously a conditioned reply. King Tauriâs response after the rebellion was swift, even cruel.
The burning of Aretia, which had been Tyrrendorâs capital, to the ground had never sat well with me, though. Liam was the same age. It wasnât his fault his mother had broken faith with Navarre. And Iâm sure thereâs more to it.
âBut you didn���t go with your father to his new home?â Violet asks.
His gaze swings toward her, and his brow furrows. âItâs hard to live with a man who was executed on the same day as my mother.â
âNo. No, thatâs not right. Your father was Isaac Mairi, right? Iâve studied all the noble houses in every province, including Tyrrendor.â
âYes. Isaac was my father.â He tilts his head, looking toward the area where Jesinia disappeared, and I get the distinct feeling he is over this conversation.
âBut he wasnât a part of the rebellion.â She shakes her head, trying to make sense of it. âHe isnât on the death roll of the executions from Calldyr.â
âYou read the death roll from the Calldyr executions?â His eyes flare.
âI needed to see that someone was on it.â She admits it.
He draws back slightly. âFen Riorson.â
She nods. âHe killed my brother at the Battle of Aretia. But your father wasnât on that roll.âBut Liam wasâas a witness.
âVi, enough.â I try to stop her. We should not tear open his wounds.
She glances at me and I can see the understanding in her eyes.âIâm so sorry. I shouldnât have asked.â
âHe was executed at our familyâs house.â His features tighten. âBefore it was given to another noble, of course. And yes, I watched as they did it that time, too. I already had the rebellion relic by then, but the pain was the same.â He looks away, his throat working. âThen I was sent to Tirvainne to be fostered by Duke Lindell, the same as Riorson. My little sister was sent elsewhere.â
âThey separated you?â Her jaw practically unhinges.
He nods. âSheâs only a year younger than me, though, so Iâll get to see her when she enters the quadrant next year. Sheâs strong, quick, and has good balance. Sheâll make it.â The edge of panic in his tone reminds me of Mira.
âShe will make it, Liam. And after that weâll be there to help her.â I grab his hand and squeezes it.
âShe could always choose another quadrant,â Violet says softly, hoping it will soothe him.
He blinks at her. âWeâre all riders.â
âWhat?â
âWeâre all riders. It was part of the deal. Weâre allowed to live, allowed a chance to prove our loyalty, but only if we make it through the Riders Quadrant.â He stares at her in bewilderment. âYou donât know?â
âI meanâŚâ she shakes her head. âI know that the children of the leaders, the officers, were all forced into conscription, but thatâs all. A lot of those treaty addenda are classified.â
âI personally think the quadrant was chosen to give us the best chance of rising in rank, but othersâŚâ He grimaces. âOthers think itâs because the death rate is so much higher for riders, so they were hoping to kill us all off without having to do it themselves. Iâve heard Imogen say they originally figured the dragons have unimpeachable honor, so theyâd never bond a marked one in the first place, and now they donât quite know what to do with us.â
âHow many of you are there?â I ask him, because I donât know the exact number.
âXadenâs never?â He pauses. âSixty-eight of the officers had kids under the age of twenty. There are one hundred and seven of us, all who carry rebellion relics.â
âThe oldest is Xaden,â I murmur.
He nods. âAnd the youngest is almost six now. Her name is Julianne.â
I think Iâm going to be sick. âIs she marked?â
âShe was born with it.â
I understand it was done by Codagh, but what the fucking hell? My father is a monster.
âAnd itâs all right that you ask. Someone should know. Someone should remember.â His shoulders rise and fall as he breathes deeply. He suddenly turns toward Violet. âAnyway, is it hard for you to be in here? Or is it more of a comfort thing?â
Subject change noted.
âItâs like coming home, but not. And itâs not that itâs changedâthis place never changes. Hell, I think change is the mortal enemy of a scribe. But Iâm starting to realize that Iâve changed. I donât quite fit here. Not anymore.â
âYeah. I get that.â Something in his voice tells me he really does.
Thatâs when Jesinia reappears, the cart laden with the requested tomes.
âI have everything here for you,â she signs, then gestures to the scroll on top. âAnd that is for Professor Markham.â
âWeâll make sure he gets it,â Violet promises, leaning forward to take the cart. Her high collar shifts, and Jesinia gasps, her hand flying to cover her mouth.
âOh gods, Violet. Your neck!â Her hand movements are sharp.
âItâs nothing.â She puts her collar back in place, covering the ring of yellowing bruises, and Liam reaches across me, taking the cart. âWeâll see you tomorrow.â
She bobs her head and wrings her hands as we turn for the door. Pierson closes it after we pass into the hallway.
âRiorson taught me to fight during the years he was at Tirvainne.â Liamâs change of subject is appreciated and no doubt intentional once again. I still feel terrible. My farher is a monster. Thereâs no doubt about it. âIâve never seen anyone move the way he does. Heâs the only reason I made it through the first round of challenges. He might not show it, but he takes care of his own.â He glances toward me with a smirk.
âAre you trying to sell me on his finer points?â I ask as we make the ascent.
We round the corner and take the path past the Healer Quadrant.
âHow can you do this anyway? Guard someone whose own mother oversaw the wing that captured yours?â Vi asks before he could answer.
âWondering if you can trust me?â He flashes another easy grin.
âYes.â The answer is simple.
He laughs, the sound echoing off the tunnel walls and glass windows of the clinic. âGood answer. All I can say is that your survival is essential to Riorsonâs, and I owe him everything. Everything.â He looks me straight in the eye for that last word, even as the cart hits a raised stone in the paved corridor.
The scroll on top tumbles to the floor, and Violet retrieves it and it unrolls along the slight slope of the passage.
âGot it.â
The thick parchment isnât eager to roll back into place, and when she looks at it, she pauses.
âWhat does it say?â Liam asks.
âSumerton was attacked.â She flips the scroll to see if itâs marked as classified, but it isnât.
âOn the southern border?â He looks as confused as I feel.
âYeah.â She nods. âItâs another high-altitude attack, too, if I remember my geography correctly. It says a supply convoy was looted.â She reads a little further. âAnd the community storage in nearby caves was ransacked. But that doesnât make sense. We have a trade agreement with Poromiel.â
âA raiding party, then.â I say.
She shrugs. âNo clue. Guess weâll hear about it in Battle Brief today.â
Attacks along our southern borders are rising, all with the same description. Mountain villages are being torn apart wherever the wards weaken.
I hear an enermous growl.
âSorrengail?â Liam looks over at her, concern etched between his brows.
âTairnâs awake,â she manages to say, clutching her stomach. âDoes it ever get any easier?â Being tackled by what theyâre feeling?â
âI donât know.â I shrug. âAon is pretty good at keeping his emotions to himself, but sometimes I canât separate myself from him.â
Liam winces. âDeigh keeps pretty good control of himself, but when heâs angry?â Liam shakes his head. âItâs supposed to help once they start channeling and we have the power to shield them out, but you know Carr isnât going to bother with us until that happens.â
Iâd already assumed Liam didnât have his abilities yet, considering heâs with us in every single class, but itâs comforting to know heâs still in the waning population of powerless riders with me.
âSo neither Aon nor Tairn has started channeling to you, either, right?â Liam asks, a look of uncertainty, vulnerability on his face.
I shake my head. âI think he has commitment issues,â I whisper.
âI heard that.â
âThen stay out of my head.â
Suddenly waves of emotions washes over me.
âDonât be an ass.â
I swear I hear him chuff a chuckle in response.
âWeâd better hurry or weâll miss breakfast.â Liam says.
âRight.â Violet finishes rolling the scroll and put it back on the cart.
---
âI want to be like the cool kids,â Rhiannon grumbles as first-years from Second and Third Wings pour out of the stairwell of the turret that leads up to Professor Carrâs classroom that afternoon, further clogging the hallway on our way to Battle Brief.
âWe will,â Violet promises, linking her arm through hers.
âYou may be cool, but you will never be as cool as I am!â Ridoc pushes past Liam and me, and throws his arm over Violetâs shoulder.
âSheâs talking about everyone whoâs already channeling,â I explain, juggling my books so I donât drop them. âThough at least if weâre not channeling, weâre not stressed about manifesting a signet before the magic kills us.â The relic on my back tingles.
âOh, I thought we were discussing how I just owned that physics test.â He grins. âDefinitely the highest score in the class.â
Rhiannon rolls her eyes. âPlease. I scored five points higher than you.â
âWe stopped counting your grades months ago.â He leans forward slightly. âYour grades in that class make it unfair for the rest of us.â He looks between Liam and me. âWait. What did you get, Melgren? Mairi?â
âNot getting into the middle of this,â Liam responds.
âMe neitherâ I laugh at him.
I had pretty good scores. Only thanks to Liam. Despite of his assignment, he still has time to study with me. And I will be eternally grateful to him.
I smile at him as weâre entering the bottleneck of cadets to get into the briefing room.
âSorry, Sorrengail,â someone says, stepping out of the way and tugging their friend with them as we enter the tiered classroom.
âNothing to be sorry about!â She calls out, but theyâre already headed up a few rows. âIâm never going to get used to that.â
âIt definitely makes getting places easier,â Rhiannon teases her as we descend the steps that curve along the massive turret.
We find our row and walk to our seats, sitting as a squad among the first-years.
The room buzzes with energy as riders file in, and I canât help but notice that no one has to stand anymore. Our numbers have decreased exponentially in the last four months. The number of empty chairs is sobering. We lost another first-year yesterday when he got too close to another riderâs Red Scorpiontail on the flight field. One second he was standing there, and the next he was a scorched patch of earth. I kept as close to Aon as possible the rest of the session.
My scalp prickles, but I fight the urge to turn around.
âRiorson just got here,â Liam says with mirth in his voice from the seat to my left, breaking from the little dragon figurine heâs carving and looking up the rows toward the third-years.
âFigured.â I hold up my middle finger to him and keep my eyes forward.
He just loves teasing me. Asshole.
Liam snorts and grins, flashing his dimple. âNow, that weâre talking about Xaden. I noticed that you two are always bickering. Tell me, is it fun pissing off the most powerful rider in the quadrant? â
âYou could try it yourself and find out,â I suggest, opening my notebook to the next empty page. I canât turn around. I wonât. Wanting Xaden is fine. It has to be. Indulging the impulses it gives me? Thatâs asinine.
âThatâs going to be a no from me.â He shakes his head.
I lose the battle with my self-control and look over my shoulder. Sure enough, Xaden is seated in the top row next to Garrick, mastering the art of looking bored. He gives Liam a nod, which Liam returns.
Then he concentrates on his carving, which looks a lot like his Red Daggertail, Deigh.
âThen you should focus on Vi. She is youâre assignment, not me.â I shot back.
âI swear, youâd think there were assassination attempts on me during every class with the way he makes you shadow me.â She shakes her head.
âIn his defense, people are fond of trying to kill you.â Rhiannon sets out her supplies.
âOne time! Itâs happened one time, Rhi!â She says as she adjusts her posture.
âRight. And what would you call that whole thing with Tynan?â Rhiannon asks.
âThreshing.â She shrugs.
âAnd Barloweâs constant threats?â I arch a brow at her.
âShe has a point there,â Sawyer chimes in, leaning forward from the seat next to Rhiannonâs.
âTheyâre just threats. The only time Iâve actually been targeted was at night, and itâs not like Liam here is sleeping in my bedroom.â
âI mean, Iâm not opposedââ he begins, his knife hovering over the piece of wood.
âDonât even start.â She whips her head to face him and she blushes. âYou are a shameless flirt.â
âThank you.â He grins and goes back to carving.
âIt wasnât a compliment.â
âDonât mind her, sheâs just sexually frustrated. Makes a girl crabby.â I say and write the date down on the empty page with my quill. Those easy, mess-less pens some of the others can already use is just another reason I canât wait to channel. No more quills. No more inkpots.
âThat has nothing to do with it.â She shots me a glare.
âAnd yet I donât hear you denying it.â I smile sweetly at her.
âIâm sorry I donât make the cut,â Liam teases. âBut I can review a couple candidates, especially if it means youâll stop being so edgy.â
âAnd how exactly would you be reviewing candidates? What will you be scoring?â Rhiannon asks, one eyebrow raised above her wide grin. âThis I have to hear.â
I manage a straight face for all of two seconds before laughing at how horrified he suddenly looks.
âThanks for the offer, though. Iâll make sure to run any potential liaisons by you.â Violet teases him.
âI mean, you could watch,â Rhiannon continues, blinking innocently at him. âJust to be sure sheâs fully covered. You know, so no oneâŚsticks it to her.â
âOh, are we telling dick jokes now?â Ridoc asks from my other side. âBecause my entire life has led up to this very moment.â
Even Sawyer laughs.
âFuck me,â Liam mutters under his breath. âIâm just saying that since youâre protected at night nowââ We laugh harder, and he blows out a deep breath.
âWait.â Vi stops laughing. âWhat do you mean Iâm protected at night? Because youâre next door? Please tell me heâs not making you sleep in the hallway or something obnoxious.â
âNo. Of course not. He warded your door the morning after the attack.â His expression clearly says she should know this. âIâm guessing he didnât tell you?â
âHe what?â
âHe warded your door,â Liam says, quieter this time. âSo only you can open it.â
âBut if heâs the one who warded it, then he can get in, too, right?â I ask.
âWell, yeah.â Liam shrugs as Professors Markham and Devera walk down the stairs, heading for the front of the room. âBut itâs not like Riorson is going to kill her.â
âRight. You see, Iâm still adjusting to that little change of heart.â I fumble my quill and it falls to the ground, but before I can lean over, the shadows beneath the arm of my desk lift the instrument like an offering. I pluck it out of the shadows and look back at Xaden.
Heâs locked in conversation with Garrick, not paying me a speck of attention.
Except, apparently, he is.
âIf we can get started?â Markham calls over the room, and we fall silent as he places the scroll we had delivered to him before breakfast on the podium. âExcellent.â
I write Sumerton down at the top of the page and Liam trades his knife for a quill.
âFirst announcement,â Devera says, stepping forward. âWeâve decided that not only will the winners of this yearâs Squad Battle receive bragging rightsââ She grins like weâre in for a treat. âBut theyâll also be given a trip to the front lines to shadow an active wing.â
Cheers break out all around us.
âSo if we win, we get a chance to die sooner?â Rhiannon whispers.
âMaybe theyâre trying a reverse psychology thing.â I glance at the others around us who are clearly overjoyed and worry about their sanity. Either I am a fool or everyone else.
âYou crave the action just as much as they do, little one.â
âDonât you have better things to do with your day than listen in on my private thoughts?â
âNot particularly. Now pay attention.â
âStop butting in and maybe I can,â I counter.
Aon chuffs. One day I might be able to translate that sound, but itâs not today.
âI know the Squad Battle doesnât commence until spring,â Devera continues, âbut I figured that news would give you all the proper motivation to apply yourselves in every area leading up to the challenges.â
Another cheer resounds.
âAnd now that we have your attention.â Markham lifts his hand and the room quiets. âThe front lines are relatively quiet today, so weâre going to take this opportunity to dissect the Battle of Gianfar.â
My quill hovers above my notebook. Surely he didnât say that.
The mage lights rise to the Cliffs of Dralor that separate Tyrrendor, lifting the entire province thousands of feet above the rest of the Continent, before shining brightest on the ancient stronghold along the southern border. âThis battle was pivotal to the unification of Navarre, and though it happened more than six centuries ago, there are important lessons that still impact our flight formations to this day.â
âIs he serious?â I whisper to Liam.
âYeah.â Liamâs grip bends his quill. âI think he is.â
âWhat made this battle unique?â Devera asks, her eyebrows raised. âBryant?â
âThe stronghold was not only set for a siege,â the second-year says from high above us, âbut was equipped with the first cross-bolt, which proved lethal against dragonkind.â
âYes. And?â Devera prompts.
âIt was one of the final battles where gryphons and dragons actually worked alongside each other to annihilate the army of the Barrens,â the second-year continues.
I glance left and right, watching the other riders begin to take notes. Surreal. This is justâŚsurreal.
None of them knows what we do, that an entire village of Navarrians was ransacked last night along the border and supplies looted. And yet, weâre discussing a battle that happened before the convenience of indoor plumbing was invented.
âNow, pay close attention,â Markham lectures. âBecause youâll be turning in a detailed report in three days and drawing comparisons to battles from the last twenty years.â
âWas that scroll marked classified?â Liam asks under his breath.
âNo,â Violet responds just as quietly. âBut maybe I missed it?â
The battle map doesnât even show activity near that mountain range.
âYeah.â He nods, scratching his quill against the parchment as he begins to take notes. âThat has to be it. You missed it.â
I blink, forcing my hand through the motions of writing about a battle Iâve analyzed dozens of times with The General. Liamâs right. Thatâs the only possible explanation. Our clearance isnât high enough, or maybe they havenât finished gathering all the information needed to form an accurate report.
Or it had to have been marked classified. We just missed it.
OrâŚthey withold information from us.
I need to speak with The General. Somehow I have to gather more information.
âCareful, little one. You need to be careful when you uncover the secrets.â I hear Aonâs warning.
#fourth wing#fanfiction#fourth wing fanfic#the fourth wing#violet sorrengail#liam mairi#xaden riorson#oc#the empyrean#xaden x oc#xaden riorson x oc#dragons#rhiannon matthias#sawyer fourth wing#ridoc gamlyn
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When I Met You
(OC FMC x Liam Mairi)
All characters except for Aurora Sallow who is my OC and the FMC of this fic belong to Rebecca Yarros. The plot of Fourth Wing also belongs to Rebecca Yarros.
Content warnings: most of the warnings that are for Fourth Wing are also going to be in When I Met You. That includes: Blood, death, injury, violence and war. The only content warning I am adding is panic attacks (2)
â§ď˝Ľďž: *â§ď˝ĽďžAurora Sallow â§ď˝Ľďž: *â§ď˝Ľďž
This is not ideal.
Looking straight ahead, I debate my options. The Parapet is thin, not something you can walk on regularly. One wrong move and the wind will take you to your death.
One foot in front of the other. Keep your eyes on the stone in front of you.
I can do this. I've seen countless others just cross it with my own eyes. There's no reason why I can't do it too. Except for the fact that I have no idea what I'm doing. I haven't trained like everyone else. I'm not prepared like everyone else.
I feel the anxiety start to take hold again, and I close my eyes, taking a deep breath and praying to the god of luck, Zinhal, that I don't fall to my death.
"I can do this. There's no other option. I can't back out now."
Opening my eyes, I look at the stone ahead of me and take a step onto the Parapet.
Inhale, step, exhale, step. I repeat the cycle. The rain is pouring down, making the rock slippery beneath my feet, but my boots hold, and I take my time, trying not to worry about those behind me.
The wind blows hard, making my hair fly out around me. The stone beneath my feet is steady, but some of the rocks on each side of the mountain crumble and fall into the thrashing river beneath.
I'm halfway to the other end of the Parapet when I hear a squeak, like a shoe slipping against pavement. Turning my head slowly, I see a boy about my age just starting to regain his balance. His dark blonde hair was wet from the rain.
"Be careful!â I shout over the sound of the rain.
He looks up at me, and even though he looks neutral, I see the speck of fear in his eyes.
All I'm thinking to myself is, I don't want this boy to fall to his death.
Not thinking too much about it, I walk backward towards him.
"What are you doing?!" he yells.
"Helping you!" I yell back.
I look back at him and see I'm within arms' distance. "Hold on," I say, extending my hand for him to grab.
He looks at me, stunned momentarily, before grabbing my hand.
We inch our way closer and closer to the end of the Parapet, our free arms held out to keep balance. The rain continues with a vengeance, and the wind rips through, making it harder and harder to take a simple step.
I can hear the sound of rocks crumbling down the mountain and the river rushing below, but I never take my eyes off the stone ahead of me. I never let go of the boy's hand.
Gust after gust of wind slams into us, but we prevail, continuing to take step after step.
When we finally reach the walls, we run to the entrance.
I smile to myself. We made it.
Finally letting go of the boy's hand, we stand in silence, catching our breath and waiting for the adrenaline to ease. We're in a courtyard where two Riders stand to the side.
He breaks the silence first. "Thank you," he says, "for helping me. You didn't have to do that."
I give him a look. "I wasn't going to let you fall."
He gives me a small smile and reaches out a hand to shake mine. "I'm Sawyer."
Even though I've held this guy's hand for the last 20 minutes, I shake it. "Aurora."
After talking with Sawyer for a couple minutes, we both head over to give our names to the Riders in charge.
#fourth wing#fourth wing fic#fourth wing x reader#liam mairi#liam mairi x reader#iron flame#xaden riorson#violet sorrengail#xaden and violet#xaden x reader#x reader#fics#rhiannon matthias#ridoc gamlyn#sawyer henrick#garrick tavis#bodhi durran#dain aetos
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