This is my first time writing anything like this, so please be nice. Also, my first language is not English, so please be tolerant of any spelling or grammar mistakes you see. I was inspired by this prompt: . ?thread=5697#cmt5697.

Also, this story will contain slash, so if you don't like it, then don't read it.

I don't own Epic or any of the characters.

The first time Finn meets him, he is falling.

To be entirely fair, it's not his fault. The aerial combat instructor is a big proponent of "learning on the job." This means, apparently, that the new recruits only receive a cursory lesson on how to saddle a hummingbird and general safety principles before they are in the air. At first there is the thrill of flight, of being untethered from the land for the first real time, of being free. Wind rushes past you, tearing at your hair, and all you can smell is the freshness of it, the cold clarity that only comes from racing head first at top speed with no regards for the consequences. You feel the shift of muscle beneath your mount's smooth, glistening feathers, feel the potential there for aerial acrobatics you can barely imagine. In this one moment, you know your decision to join the Leafmen was the right one—the only one, really—despite what your parents said.

And then comes the sudden twist that you aren't prepared for, and it seems you didn't fasten the safety harness quit right, because you're tumbling from the saddle. Trees and sky blur together in a nauseating mix of color as you plummet downward.

Anyway, that is how Finn came to find himself where he is now, tumbling toward the forest floor at a frightening speed. The wind is tugging at his hair, air forcing itself into his nose and mouth so that he feels it might suffocate him. What a strange thing to worry about when you are, in all likely hood, falling to your death. His stomach is somewhere in the vicinity of his breast bone, and his heart has leapt up into his mouth. All he can hear is the rush of wind, blood pounding in his ears, and his father's voice saying reproachfully, "All Leafmen die young and stupid. Is that what you want?"

Not really, he thinks, but the thought itself is swept away before he really notices it.

The drone of wings is the only warning he has before an iridescent blue hummingbird pulls up beside him, its rider matching his speed and trajectory perfectly. For an instant, Finn thinks that Sergeant Verna has come to his rescue, but then he recognizes the familiar yellow tunic and realizes that his savior is a fellow recruit.

The young man eyes him from beneath his riding helmet, then extends a hand.

"Need a lift?"

The laugh is startled out of Finn and lost just as quickly in the rushing air. He grasps the offered hand, appreciating the strong grip as only one who has just been saved from plummeting to his death can. Only once he is safely settled with his arms wrapped firmly about his rescuer's waist does the other man turn his hummingbird toward the tree branch where all the other recruits have gathered. Finn has to admire the smooth way the young man handles his mount, providing a gentle hand with just enough firmness to keep the spirited bird in check. He acts as though he has been riding hummingbirds all his life. Finn also notices, ruefully, that the other recruit's safety harness is fastened correctly.

They land on the branch with barely a bump, smooth as a whisper. Sergeant Verna descends on them in a red-faced furry, followed closely by a wildly grinning recruit with a nest of brown curls on his head. As Verna bears down on Finn, the curly-hair recruit grabs Finn's rescuer in a playful headlock, knocking his helmet off in the process and revealing dark grey hair cut almost painfully short. The young man grunts in protest as his friend ruffles his hair enthusiastically.

"I've gotta say, that was the most hair-brained stunt I've ever seen you pull! Tara will be so proud. Our little Ronin is growing up."

The grey haired young man, whose name appears to be Ronin, blushes at the spectacle that his friend has made of them. "Sorrel, stop it," he mutters, pale cheeks darkening.

As Finn endures Sergeant Verna's tongue lashing about riding safety and good, old-fashioned common sense, he discreetly watches Ronin and Sorrel over her shoulder. They are discussing something that he can't make out over his instructor's displeasure, but whatever it is brings a small smile to Ronin's thin lips. Finn has always had a healthy appreciation for beauty and courage, and finds it all the more irresistible when they come in one package. As if sensing that Finn's thoughts are focused on him, Ronin glances up and catches his eye.

For one bewildering second, Finn feels as though he's falling again.

Reviews would be encouraging. I'm still not sure if I'm going to take this anywhere, so feedback is welcome.

Aster