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fireheartpages · 10 days ago

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like they do in babylon | l.m.

liam mairi x reader (for now…)

series masterlist

summary: “but if all you can ask for at present are two feet on solid ground and your best friend next to you, then maybe you have a chance of surviving this hellscape.”

word count: 4.5k

notes: 2nd pov, she/her reader, and i gave the reader a last name (bishop). mentions of parental death, canon typical violence, liam mairi is a certified idiot™. spoilers. so many spoilers. through FW for this chapter, but by the next chapter there will be OS spoilers. for the love of god please do not spoil yourself. anywhooooooo i have been sitting on this bad boy for a FAT minute. get ready for angst, no one comes out unscathed. also, this is gonna be a love triangle. i don’t wanna hear it, i love a good love triangle and i poured my heart and soul into this one. if RY won’t do it, i will! mwah ha ha ha ha song link :)

Your balance is shit.

Liam’s up ahead of you, making the parapet look like a child’s balance beam, and you’re teetering like baby deer forty-five minutes after it was born. This really is designed to kill you.

He hadn’t even said goodbye. Just gave you a “see you on the other side” and started walking, started making you look bad in front of everyone. You literally come from the same place, were trained together, and yet he can walk the parapet—you, decidedly, cannot. Did he mean he’d see you after your souls were condemned to Malek? ‘Cause that’s what it’s looking like.

The end is maybe ten paces away. Ten steps between you and glorious, solid ground. How the hell were you going to be a dragon rider when you were afraid of heights? That’s a later problem. The problem at hand was not slipping and falling in the gods-awful rain.

Liam lands with the grace of a trained dancer on the other side, like he’s done this a million times before. You’re going to make it across this damn bridge just so you can smack him upside the head for that.

He turns around and he’s got that pretty smile pinned on you—the one that makes you feel a lot more than you should be feeling for your best friend—all white teeth and big, blue eyes. Fuck him. Like, sincerely fuck him.

You’re maybe five paces away, practically touching the alcove when a gust of wind blows through the valley so strongly that you sway—you falter. You see it in Liam’s expression. He panics, toothy grin snapping shut and baby blues going wide. You suck in a breath, lean against the wind.

You’re falling the other way now and the wind is no longer helpful in correcting you.

Your flail, and your leg swings out to counter your weight. You’re righted again, two feet firmly on the line of brick, and you suck in a deep breath. There’s no place for fear on the Parapet. (That’s what everyone says about everything in this hell hole.) Yeah, sure, deep breath, and another step. And another, and another, and another, until—

Two feet. Solid ground. Big ass arms wrapping around you.

“Li—”

“You made it!”

“I’m going to murder you—”

“Can’t do that in front of Executive Officers.” Wait, that isn’t Liam’s voice, it’s—

Xaden.

You tear out of Liam’s arms, twisting until you spot him, and you’re more teary-eyed than you’d care to admit. Two years stretched between you, and suddenly the weight of it is there. The weeks before he’d left had been hectic, barely pausing for long enough to pat you on the shoulder and start an argument with Brennan. And then he had left with Garrick, and then Bodhi and Imogen had gone, and now he was here, in front of you, and he was a godsdamned dragon rider. You have a whole year of seeing him every day now, seeing the people you knew like family, and despite the circumstances, it all felt right.

"You did good, B," Xaden whispers, a hand on your shoulder.

You pull back with a wince. "You don’t really have to call me that anymore. No one to differentiate me from."

"Good luck with that," Liam mumbled from behind you, and when you turn around, theres a glint in his eye—a little mischief, a little intrigue, but mostly understanding. It turns your stomach over in a way you didn't want to acknowledge, and it’s the last part that inclines you to let it slide.

"Go give your name to the roll keep. I'll get you in my Wing." He steps away from you, a clear signal the theatrics are over, to fall in line. You give him a mock salute. He rolls his eyes, and you hear Liam laugh behind you.

Second squad, Tail section, Fourth Wing, and a smiling Bodhi greet you and Liam as you file into place in formation. The summer heat is oppressive in the all-black outfit you’re sporting, courtesy of Brennan and his Infinite Knowledge of Basgiath War College, but if all you can ask for at present are two feet on solid ground and your best friend next to you, then maybe you have a chance of surviving this hellscape.

“Hi.”

The voice belongs to someone over your right shoulder, and you chance a look—flat lipped smile conveying the what the fuck you’re feeling since you’re fairly certain the dragons will come down and rip you apart for not paying attention the Xaden’s speech up on the dais.

“I’m Brinn.”

She keeps speaking. You give her another not-smile, and introduce yourself.

“B,” Liam hisses. You bring your gaze forward again and swear you can feel Xaden’s attention on you.

The girl’s bright brown eyes dance between you, and you swear you can feel her gearing up to say something else.

“I’m making friends.”

Is this girl serious? You turn to look at you over your shoulder, and she’s fucking beaming at you. You take a moment to survey her: wild brown hair in a braid down to her waist, a cream tunic paired with black trousers, and attention that is anywhere but where it should be. She’s like a ball of energy and excitement all wound up and ready to spring. You roll your eyes.

“I heard they torch cadets that don’t pay attention to formation,” you respond.

“Torch?”

You turn back, arching a brow. “Like, with dragons?”

“There are no dragons here yet,” Brinn responds sagely. “But I think they’re gonna be here soon. Have you ever seen a dragon?”

You blink. “One killed my parents.”

She sucks a breath through her teeth, a look of genuine remorse and something else etching into her face. “Oof. That’s rough. Mine were killed by gryphons.”

It’s enough to make you almost turn fully to her. She has Liam’s attention now, too, and you share a look with him.

“Look, we’re trauma bonding,” she says in a half-whisper. “Besties!”

And you can’t help it—you laugh. Just a little. Really, genuinely laugh.

｡･:*˚:✧｡

Dragons are, in fact, as fucking terrifying the second time you lay eyes on the species as the first. But the novelty wears off, which is good, you guess, considering soon you’ll be riding one. A thought that is borderline more terrifying than the fire itself.

It’s no more than a month into the year before you realize just how seriously—or, unseriously—people take training for the riders’ quadrant. Your squad has six first years, three second years, and a lone third year and squad leader. Smaller than most of the others, and you and Liam are, of course, the only Marked ones.

Other than one of the first years, Des, who practically bares his teeth and snaps at the pair of you any time you’re in his vicinity, everyone else is surprisingly unaffected by the relic. Which is honestly more than you could have asked for. The other two first years, Micha and June, are kind to you. One second year, Ollid, seems indifferent, another, Caelum, is too reserved to anyone but Ellis for you to get a read on—and you cannot for the life of you figure out the dynamic between the latter two. Your squad leader, Lumen, the only third year, just seems like he got the job because nobody else wanted it.

Classes are easier than you’d expected, too. Math and physics are practically no brainers, you’re surprised with how much you can get away with in history by just regurgitating answers you think a Navarrian would want to hear. Battle Brief is tougher. Definitely going to be a learned skill, but not impossible. Weeding through what you know versus what they are expecting for an answer is going to be a delicate line to walk, though. Liam, naturally, excels at everything.

Surprisingly, so does Brinn. And moreover, she is an excellent strategist. Even slipping you a few answers in Battle Brief that Professor Devera, kindly, doesn’t call you out on. You’re always send her a soft, hesitant thank you, but the way she beams and sends you an exaggerated thumbs up makes you glad no one’s attention is on you.

Besides Des, who seems to have hawk-eyed for any movement a Marked one makes. He always delivers a scrutinizing glare to Brinn, but she never falters. You’re honestly unsure anything could make her falter.

Sparring was the one thing you worried about, no matter how practiced you were—which was not nearly as much as Liam, much to your dissatisfaction. It was no surprise the hulking mass of a man was good at hand-to-hand, but even though you were in the same squad, and therefore meant to be encouraging one another, you would be remiss if you didn’t at least try to poke a hole in his perfect facade. Even after he took you down on the mat time and time again.

So, when assessment day rolled around, and you watched Emetterio point to Des, then to you, you had half the mind to be relieved Liam wasn’t up against you. The other half was a bit worried at the idea of sparring with someone that was probably out for blood. But, hey, he can’t kill you. Right?

You weren’t so sure as you took the mat, Des’s glare sticking you in place as you felt your heart ratchet up. He was tall, sure, but he didn’t have nearly as much muscle packed on him as Liam or Xaden, and you’d been training with them since you were a teenager. You took a deep breath, breathing in for a four count, holding for three, and out for five. You were not about to let some bigot get the best of you.

So, when he threw the first punch—of course—you used your size to your advantage and ducked. It was clear he had some power, but there wasn’t nearly enough follow through on it. He seemed to miscalculate, stepping forward, and you were at the perfect level now to throw an elbow into the back of his knee and land him face-first against the mat.

All you had to do was glance up to see Liam’s smile, trained on you.

Gods, this guy was an idiot. An idiot that was going to get himself killed if he fought like this in battle. You would have loved to see him go up against an actual opponent.

He rolled onto his back and made to kip, but not before you spun to meet his groin to the heel of your foot. To his credit, the only reaction he made was a sound of discomfort before he was pushing up, but all it took was a punch to the nose before he was back down again. There was the tell-tale crack, and then his hands were cradling his face, blood already smearing as he groaned. You laid a hand flat on his chest.

“Yield?” you ask, cocky with it.

Anger flared in his eyes, and he reached for you, bloody hands grabbing for the sides of your face—to do what, you weren’t sure—but you scrambled back. You rolled into a crouch and kicked, sweeping the feet he’d gained out from under him, and he fell forward on his already-broken nose.

“This is painful,” you heard Lumen mutter from behind you. Then, Emetterio, louder, “He yields, Bishop.”

You stand, offering Des a hand that he doesn’t take.

“Ollid, take him to the healers before he bleeds all over everything,” Lumen says, ushering Des off the mat.

You’re smirking when you step off, and Brinn offers you a towel and points to the spot on your neck where his bloody fingertips had grazed. You give her a nod of thanks, wiping at your skin before crouching to clean the mat.

“Brinn and Liam,” Emetterio calls as you rise, and you turn to face your squad mates with raised eyebrows. “You two are up.”

You toss Lumen the towel, locking eyes with Liam before you turn to look at Brinn. “Kick his ass for me?”

Brinn throws her head back and laughs. “Yeah, sure. I’ll do my best.”

You look over at the rest of your squad, seeing Micha and June—the latter sporting a quickly blackening eye, even after winning her match against the former—watching with rapt interest. Caelum wasn’t anywhere near paying attention, but Ellis looked like she was watching a sporting event. She held out a closed fist to you.

“Badass, little B,” she said.

The name sent a shock through you, and your smile fell, even as you bumped your fist against hers. Suddenly, your focus was on not letting your chest physically cave in.

“She’s big B,” Liam calls, because of course he heard the exchange. He probably read your demeanor change even from the distance.

“Nah,” Ellis laughs. “First years are all little, at least until threshing.”

“My sister,” you said, speaking past the emotion, “was always little B.”

“Aw,” Ellis croons, not missing a beat. “I landed on a family nickname.”

And something about the way she said it, the smile she sent you, set you right again. She didn’t even have to acknowledge it.

Your turn and place your back flat against the wall, your shoulder a healthy distance away from Ellis’. It seems the remaining members of your squad are just as eager to watch the match between Brinn and Liam. All eyes are trained on them as they step up, equidistance apart and beginning to circle.

Brinn is a fucking powerhouse—she’s all lean, packed muscle and an insanely quick mind. She’s a fast thinker and a brilliant strategist. She has enough confidence to make you really think she has any situation under control.

But, Liam… he’s just fucking huge.

He’s got six inches minimum on Brinn, and not to mention one of his thighs is probably the size of her head. He’d been training for the quadrant since he was a teenager, and if Xaden was anything to go by, the Lindell household was a formidable one. It turned out warriors.

But, by Dunne, if there isn’t a glint in Brinn’s eye that gave you the sneaking suspicion she might win this thing.

Something in Liam’s expression twists as he looks at Brinn, readying herself in a defensive position, and you could tell he was hanging back. He doesn’t want to make the first hit. It was obvious. But Brinn is all mirth as she looks up at him, as if daring him to try.

And try he does, but Brinn is powerful, and Liam had underestimated her. He throws the first punch, and she catches it, wrenching his arm behind him as she slips out of his reach. He winces, spinning around to try and grab her again, but she lands a quick jab to his ribs that doubles him over.

“Are you serious?” Liam groans.

“Are you taking it easy on me?” Brinn taunts him.

“No,” he mumbles, and it’s evident it’s a split second decision. A reassessment in his gaze as he calculates her threat level, sizing her up as a different breed of opponent.

You know Liam, you know him intimately, and you know the way his brain works. He doesn’t hurt his friends, and somewhere between the wide smiles and quiet remarks, Brinn was categorized as one now. Despite his hulking frame and brutal training, Liam is gentle at heart. You’ve seen him take spiders outside instead of killing them, just because he felt bad.

You can’t help but laugh, feeling lucky you weren’t paired against him. You don’t envy either of them. You weren’t sure you’d be able to take either of them down in the same situation.

Brinn is the first to lunge this time, a pattern of punches so quick Liam has no choice but to fall back onto the defensive, hands flying to block any from striking where it would hurt the most. He spins around, kicking back and making contact with the back of her knees, but Brinn is ready for it, twisting her body so she falls on her back and letter her momentum throw her into a backwards roll until she’s in a crouch. She springs up again, and Liam is there, throwing a punch out that makes contact with her jaw.

“I’m sorry!” he shouts, as if it’s a reflex, and you hear a laugh from beside you.

“Seriously, Mairi?” It was Lumen, watching them fight, and you see Professor Emetterio next to him, observing the match with rapt interest. His bushy eyebrows are raised in the biggest display of a reaction you’ve seen from him, and a quick glance around the room tells you he’s not the only one whose attention has been snagged.

Brinn seems impossible to knock off course, though. She barely even falters after the punch, immediately launching into her next attack with so much force you start to wonder where she’s hiding all of the muscle that has to be powering her. It’s incredible to see. Liam has yet to lose a match, but she’s giving him a run for his money.

She lands another good punch to his throat, so hard you know it’s going to bruise, and she’d downright giddy as she dances around him. She spins, and you can tell by the way she shifts her weight that she’s prepping for a kick. The tell is evident, and there’s a piece of you that’s hoping Liam is too distracted to notice as well.

Unfortunately for Brinn, he isn’t. She goes to kick, and with one step back, he’s there to grab her leg, pulling until she’s on her back, slamming into the mat. She recovers quickly, knocking into his ribs with a jab you know has to hurt, but not before he lands a punch that you know will bruise.

You had spent the latter half of your adolescence watching Liam spar with Xaden, or Garrick, or Bodhi, or Imogen, and yet this had to be the most entertaining match you had ever had the pleasure of witnessing.

By the end of it, both parties are breathless, bloody, and bruised. Liam, with so much exhaustion lining his face you were worried he was going to pass out on top of her, ends up with his entire body pinning Brinn down, bracing a bit of his weight on a forearm near her head as her front is pressed into the mat. He pants out, “Yield, please.”

Brinn looks just as worn as Liam does as she lifts a hand to tap the mat twice, and Emetterio calls the match begrudgingly for Liam. They both limp over to you, purpling bruises littering each of their faces, and Liam is pressing a hand gently to his ribs while Brinn favors her left foot.

You’d imagine your face reads the precise amount of shock you’re feeling. All you end up saying though is, “What the hell?”

“You pack a punch,” Liam pants, addressing Brinn.

She just shrugs, a smirk lining her split lip.

“Are you okay?” you ask her.

Humor dances in her eyes as she answers. “I’ll live.”

You cut a glare at Liam, who balks in response.

“Are you serious? What did I do?” he asks indignantly.

“You beat her up!” you squawk, and try to remain serious, because you are concerned about your friends, but you can’t help but relish in the way shock colors his features at your teasing.

“It’s assessment, B! I didn’t mean to hurt—”

He doesn’t make it much farther before Brinn bursts out laughing, and you dissolve into a pit of giggles right there beside her.

｡･:*˚:✧｡

“You’re sure we’re not going to get caught?”

Liam cuts you a sideways glance as the two of you make your way across the field together, back to the dorms. “You heard what X said, he and Garrick have been doing this since their first year,” he says. “Helped Bodhi through his, too.”

“This share-the-wealth situation seems a little outside them,” you volley, and he rolls his eyes.

“Yeah,” he answers. “I guess so.”

“Why’d you go? Not like you need any help,” you mumble. Because it’s true. Liam hasn’t so much as lost a match. At this point, you’re pretty sure he doesn’t know how to take second place.

You’re not too far behind him, and neither is Brinn. But it’s nearly impossible to catch up to him. Micha and June aren’t doing terrible either, and even Des has started to shut up when he realized just how lacking in the hand-to-hand department he is. Liam might be leaps and bounds ahead of the rest of you, but you’re pretty sure that if the rest of you remain steady, with the advantage Liam give you, once Squad Battles roll around, they’re going to be an easy victory.

Maybe your sleuth leaves something to be desired though, because as you all break from the meetings the Marked ones held under the massive oak, you’re absolutely convinced someone is going to spot your duo. Even though it is only the two of you now, and it’s no longer a capital fucking offense.

“You were there,” he answers, like it’s obvious. “Did you see the way Ellis and Ollid were looking at each other after dinner today?”

Your head whips towards him. “Are you… gossiping?”

“You seem nervous.” He shrugs. “I’m distracting.”

You can’t help but laugh. “I don’t know how everyone in this school hasn’t caught chlamydia by now,” you answer. “I thought there was something between her and Caelum. She’s like the only person I’ve ever seen him talk to.”

“Maybe they’re a throuple,” Liam says dryly.

You can’t help but throw your head back, immediately panicking because fuck, you’re being too loud, and—

“B? Liam?”

There’s a voice that sounds out of breath, and then footsteps crunching over the gravel. In your panic, you don’t even bother to register the voice. You feel Liam tense next to you, and you quickly calculate all the ways to get out of this situation, all the lies based off who could have caught you. Who is even out here after curfew like this? Crazy people. And you qualify, and so does Liam.

And Brinn, apparently, who is who you see as you spin, clamping down on your panic. She jogs up to you, black sparring leathers sticking to her sweat-soaked skin. Her brown hair is pulled back from her face, but by how loose the tie is, it’s clear she’s been out here for a while just… running?

“Brinn,” you say in lieu of greeting, relief a fickle thing as you see her glance at a cluster of other Marked ones walking behind you. You catalogue the way her eyes flit over them, then back to you. Still, you can’t help but arch a brow at her. “Out for a night cap?”

The way Brinn laughs always seems to capture your attention. It puts you at ease, watching the way she is almost surprised by it, like her own joy caught her off guard. That’s the way she laughs as she looks at the two of you, and you feel a bit of the tension in your body release.

“I have to tire myself out at night, or I’ll never make it to bed,” she says, propping her hands on her hips as her breathing begins to even out. “Figured I might as well make use of it and do something productive with the way they run us ragged around here.”

“Being run ragged isn’t enough to tire you out?” you ask, incredulously.

She shrugs. “My stamina is legendary.” The throws you a wink, and you can’t help but return her smile. “Though, It looks like you two had the same idea?”

Liam quickly shakes his head, and the way you cut your eyes at him is involuntary.

“Listen, a field after dark with a ton of people around isn’t my forte, but if it’s what you two are into—”

“No!” Liam says, correcting her quickly, and it’s practically a shout.

You ignore the way it stings.

“We went for a walk,” you explain, opting for half-truths, because something about lying to Brinn made you feel ill. “I like the trees around here. The creek.”

“The trees,” Brinn says, arching a darkly defined brow at you.

You shrug. “Privacy.”

From the way her eyes light up, you immediately regret saying it. Brinn quickly picks up her feet, moving past you two.

"It's not what you think," Liam says, rushing to correct her, but Brinn isn't giving an inch.

“I’ll leave you to it, then!” she says jogging backwards as she gives you a mock salute. “See you tomorrow for breakfast?”

“Yep!” You hold up a hand, trying not to cringe.

The silence between you and Liam in her absence is deafening—and tense as a bowstring.

“She’s…” Liam began.

“Eclectic,” you finish, and despite how close you were to being caught, despite her insinuation, you were forcing down a smile. Something in your gut told you that Brinn knew you weren’t looking for a quiet place to be alone, or do whatever she implied you were doing. She saw the other marked ones behind you, walking from the same direction in what were hopefully inconspicuous groups. And she poked fun at you instead. Just let it roll off her, and turned back to what she was doing like it wasn’t a big deal.

Maybe you didn’t know her very well, and maybe you would never be able to share all of the parts of you with anyone that isn’t a Marked one, but you knew then:

You had an ally in Brinn.

But from the look on his face, Liam seemed harder to convince. “She’s suspicious,” he said warily.

“She is not,” you say, feeling the urge to defend her.

“It was weird of her to assume…”

You can’t help the way you spin towards him. “Assume what?”

He shrugged, not meeting your eye. “You know, that we…”

“That we what?”

He shook his head. “It felt like a deflection.”

Something stung. Deep in your chest, something stung. You frown. “The idea of it is so outlandish you’d rather her accuse us of treason than hooking up?”

Liam’s head whipped towards you. “No, I just think we need to be wary of her.”

“Wary?” you ask, appalled. “She has been nothing but nice to us.”

“Nice people can still be suspicious, B. Not all of them are like Des, constantly throwing it in our face that they hate us,” he retorts.

You reel back. “She saw the other Marked ones, you’re right, and she didn’t say anything. She’s keeping it to herself.”

“She literally ran away from us,” he says, and you barely recognize the look in his eye. “Who knows who she’s off telling! You need to be more careful.”

You scoff. “You’re right. Can’t have more people thinking we’re sleeping together.”

You turn on your heel and march away, leaving him calling after you, shouting your name across the courtyard like gasoline in an engine that only makes you walk faster, not even bothering to look back as he catches up to you.

You walk back to the first year dorms in silence.

#i have a playlist for the first half of this fic and it’s called star crossed relics #i’m quite proud of that name #i have also once again had to break up my sections bc i yap way too much #fourth wing #fourth wing fanfic #fourth wing fanfiction #fourth wing x reader #the empyrean #emmmaswrites #liam mairi #liam mairi x reader #liam mairi x y/n #liam mairi x you

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