I sighed as I sat outside the stable, You're sure you're alright, Emerson? The hay bale that I was using as a bench itched under me, poking me in awkward places and the wool tights meant to keep me warm didn't help anything, but I'm dealing with all that. I'm even dealing with the fact that this warrior outfit Murtagh gave to me is barely the size of an oversized T-shirt. Like… the slutty girls wear skirts only a little shorter than this. And even a few of them would be aghast to see me, Catholic girl extraordinaire, in this silver and green get-up.

Emerson's laugh was comforting, I'm fine. The saddle is a little tight. Obviously, Emerson is still in the stable… with Thorn… and not me. I'm pretty sure I'm going to be sick. Thorn apparently enjoys eating dragons, and he's gone after Emerson before, and Emerson is a very skinny boy! It's not his fault he hasn't had a lot of time to… bulk up. Thorn's on steroids, is all.

I don't understand why I can't be in there with you. Murtagh's in there getting Thorn ready for the lesson.

Emerson snorted, Murtagh didn't yell at the Urgals that they were putting on the saddle wrong. Oh, yeah, I finally remembered to ask Murtagh what those damn evil guards are. Urgals, a species all their own. Like I didn't call that. He said he'd tell me more later, when I wasn't being dragged out of the stable.

…What? I've been riding horses since I was six; I know how to tack up a damn horse. Besides, the saddle was all wrong. No one should ever bedazzle a saddle. Saddles are expensive enough, and they don't belong on dragons anyway. Moreover, that saddle just looked damn uncomfortable.

Don't forget to breathe, a foreign voice in my mind reminded me, and I screamed audibly. My body twitching, I suddenly found myself on the ground, covered in dust and my body screaming in angry pain at me. My hands had somehow shot to my ears, like that would get the voice out. Emerson growled in the saddle, and as the stable doors opened and Murtagh rode out on Thorn, I saw he was laughing, "I didn't think you were so jumpy, Dragon Rider."

I continued to try and force the breath out of my body before I finally put two and two together, "That was YOU?!"

"You didn't think the only person who could get into your head was your dragon, did you? You'll have to work on your boundaries; I can find anything I want in your head." Murtagh's smile was sly and cheeky, the expression forced but his eyes almost genuinely amused by his antics, almost like there was some filter in the rest of his face that let the actions through and strained out the emotion.

I sneered at him as Emerson followed Thorn out, reaching his nose out towards my shoulder, Are you alright, child? I nodded as I ran a hand over his neck before gripping his highest neck spike, laughing as he flicked his neck so that I flew a few feet into the air before he let me down gently back onto my feet. Emerson's amusement rang through my head as Murtagh called out to me.

"I'm assuming you don't know how to fly very well; we'll fly down to a lake by here and we'll continue there. Now, to get on-" Oh, right. Like I'm going to listen to Mr. I-don't-feel-I-think on how to get on my own dragon. Without a second thought, I grabbed a hold of the front and back of the saddle, forced my foot into the stirrup, and awkwardly threw my leg over the very high end of the saddle, bending my arm and leg in a familiar way.

Four seconds of squirming proved my previous assumptions to be correct – the saddle was stiff as a board the rear dug into my back at an awkward angle. To make up for it, I leaned forward and sucked in my stomach in hopes of not hitting the front end.

"You're going to want to sit-up, Liaden." My ears perked at the sound of my actual name, and I sat up just in time to feel the earth shake as Thorn pushed off the ground into the air. In my mind, Murtagh's voice rang with startling clarity, considering he was at least a hundred yards into the air and rising, Follow me.

Ready, Emerson questioned, and I gulped as I watching him dig his claws into the ground. He's… a lot more excited about this than I am.

What do I do with my hands? Completely valid question, but I'm not asking Murtagh. I'm not quite sure if I could ask Murtagh, even if I wanted to. He's a little far away.

Brush your hair.

Is that a crack at my hygiene? Cause I'm stuck in a prison cell right now and I-

You're ready; hold on. I straightened my back as I simultaneously dug nails into the saddle. Sure, yeah, I've done this before. I've done it in the heat of the moment, with a lot of screaming and a lot of pain. I specifically remember pain. Sand hitting my face and super-human speed kind of pain.

I closed my eyes as gravity compounded around me and forced me forward onto Emerson's neck. Don't worry; it gets easier to do this as you get more practice. I grit my teeth at Murtagh's words, which were honestly very condescending. I… don't appreciate them. And I'd rather he left me to myself and get out of my head. Maybe if I think it loud enough, he'll catch it.

GET OUT OF MY HEAD! Does anyone else have the bad and yet certain feeling that he didn't hear any of that, making all of this a complete, total failure.

You could ask nicely, you know, Emerson commented as he straightened his neck, only a little ways behind Thorn. I rolled my eyes, running my tongue along my teeth carefully and hoping Emerson wouldn't suddenly jerk and force my teeth to clamp shut.

Not you, Murtagh. Catch up to him. Without another thought, Emerson gave one mighty flap, and almost instantaneously we were at Thorn's side. I didn't bother to look at Murtagh, though, mostly because I want to make it clear to him that he is NOT ALLOWED IN MY HEAD. I don't car-

He's fast; that's good. OH MY GOD!

"Stop that," I screamed, determined for him to hear me over the wind, "I don't want you in my head! Get away from me!" Go faster, Emerson.

He doesn't know where he's going.

"Get out," I screamed louder, and I could just make out Murtagh's loud, non-halting laughter over the sound of the wind blowing into my ears. That boy is… mean.

But he's right, you know. I have no idea where I'm going.

We find a lake and we sit there stubbornly until morning.

I'm not sitting anywhere stubbornly until morning, thank you very much. You'll stubbornly freeze to death if you have to. I smirked; sure, it was a little off base, but I'm flattered by Emerson's assumptions. I'd always wanted to be really stubborn and in-your-face. I'd never been able to manage it because, well, parents, but still. It seemed so… fun. Not to mention those girls nearly always get what they want.

The lake is just ahead, Murtagh informed me, and I growled. Emerson took the hint and dove deep, his wings streamlining so that he feel below the cloud line quickly. The lake was… huge, and by the time we reached it Thorn was only about halfway to the shore.

I smirked as I slipped off Emeron's side, Thank you Emerson. Emerson's purr tickled my spine, and I giggled as he reached pack to poke at me with his nose, obviously wanting some physical recognition. I patted his forehead carefully until Murtagh was standing just in front of me. He was polite enough to use his voice, though, instead of invading into the inner sanctum of my mind.

"He's fast, that's good, now get up so he can learn some technique." So now he's not only captain asshole, he's captain moody asshole. I mean, I can deal with that, I've dealt with the worst teachers and I always come out alright, but still. It'd be nice if he could manage to hold on to one emotion for more than five seconds. Six would be… shocking, really. I don't think I'd believe what I was seeing.

I sighed as I stood, looking back at Emerson. His eyes were nothing short of breathtaking in the water's reflection of the moonlight, and he nudged me encouragingly with his nose one more time before pushing off the ground, following Thorn into the clouds and mimicking the older dragon's twists and turns. I ran my tongue along my teeth one more time before I pounced up, "So, what's first on the agenda, Yoda?"

Murtagh's eyebrow raised carefully, "Yoda?"

"Character… from a fable… back in my town." And all the pauses… mean I'm lying… kind of.

"Ah, yes, the Northern Alagesian town of Philayork. Charming place in the spring." I snorted at Murtagh's attempt at being carefree and funny, which was really just cheesy and slightly depressing.

I started at Emerson's voice, faded and covered with static, Be careful about him, child.

I grudgingly accepted the words, assuming that as fast as he was flying he was out of the range of my thoughts, "Well, what do we do first?"

Murtagh sighed, "We'll start with swordplay, I guess. I don't know how much you know, an unfortunate consequence of you being a secretive student."

"Well maybe if you were a more perceptive teacher, you'd realize what I know." I am feisty tonight. Maybe it's the full moon and the proximity to water. "You'd also realize that I have no sword." And at that, Murtagh smirked in that cruel, cold way that really made me want to punch him and cry out in fear.

"You didn't think I'd start you out using real swords, did you? No, no, that is too risky." Still smirking, Murtagh looked around before holding out his hand. He murmured something that may or may not be the Urgal's language, and with a rush of sound two cylinders of water rose from the lake and flew to his hand, materializing into thick, hardy sticks. My jaw dropped as I tried desperately to remind myself to not be amazed, because this was probably really normal in this new world. His face serenely calm, minus the statuesque smirk, Murtagh leaned forward and handed me the stick. "We'll use these until you're ready for real swords."

I wrinkled my nose up at him, but he didn't noticed as he glanced around, "I don't think anything here should get in the way-" Oh, come on. He really, honestly thinks I'm that stupid? That isn't even just assuming I don't know how to use a sword, which I guess is kind of understandable, but assuming I have never in my life walked backwards for any reason at all. Grunting, I flicked my stick sideways, sending Murtagh's stick flying.

His eyes shot to my face questioningly, and I smiled, "I'm ready."

Murtagh sighed as we landed back at the castle, just in front of the stables, a few hours later. We'd worked on swordplay, which I was still limited to sticks, and discussed magic and flying techniques. He told me a little more about the Urgals, and then Thorn and Emerson made their welcome return. Because by the end of all that talking, Murtagh was beginning to be natural again, and then he was cute, and I almost would forget that I had to find a way out of here.

Almost. Not completely. I'd paid enough attention to what he was actually saying that I thought I could form a basic defense against his prying into my mind that would at least hold him off for a few seconds and give me fair warning to stop thinking mutinously, and I practiced the skill while simultaneously listening carefully to everything Murtagh said. Every little bit counts, and luckily enough I'm an auditory learner.

With another heavy sigh, Murtagh and I swung off our dragons and they led themselves into the stable, where they would be untacked and then they would go their separate ways. I would've followed and harassed the Urgals a little more, but Murtagh stood around with that serious 'I need to talk to you' look on his face, and I felt slightly obligated to stay behind. Just on the ride back I realized how much more comfortable I was on Emerson, both because his take –off was smoother and because I knew was more certain of what I was doing. And, well, that's Murtagh and Thorn's doing, right? Sure, it's their doing in the bitter cold, and it all ends with me in a prison cell, but at least they're doing it.

"I've made a decision, Liaden," Murtagh started off, not bothering to try and force emotion into his voice. I was, honestly, grateful; listening to the forced stuff is like trying to live off skim milk when you've gone your whole life with whole. It's just wrong. "I will not be locking the door to your cell tonight. Honestly, it's inconvenient to have to have your guards come and get me every time you need to leave or get a little thirsty." You mean… I can leave? Cause if I ca- "In case you try and leave, there will be guards posted at either end of your hallway. I don't suggest you try crossing them; I won't be there to protect you."

… The nerve of him! Won't be there to protect me my butt – I could protect myself if you manned up a little and let me use a real sword while we were out at the lake when it was below freezing out a- Easy, child; we don't want to lose what little trust we've gained.

"I would have you put in the castle, but your room is not yet prepared and I don't think you want to be away from your dragon. Breakfast will be in five hours, so I suggest you get some sleep. Good night." With a brisk bow that I was probably expected to mirror, Murtagh turned and was off to the castle at a very brisk pace, his back hunched over.

"Good night," I finally called after him, aware of just how stupid I sounded. I mean, there was the tiniest bit of consideration of what I want at the end, there. Murtagh might actually have a heart! I should be playing a celebratory tune on the trumpet right now! Parades should commemorate this day! A lion sh-

Let's not get too carried away with ourselves, Liaden. I rolled my eyes as I turned back towards the stables, taking the few steps into its toasty warmth, which was achieved only because there were two dragons living in it. Emerson, upon seeing me, reached his neck towards me and nodded towards my stairwell down to the dungeon. To get in and out, Emerson would have to go back outside and down a small hill, the duration of which he was be chained by the neck to three different Urgals. Yeah, I'm not too happy about that, either.

Pausing to bite at my cheek and lick my teeth, I turned towards the prison stairwell and started to head down it, stopping when I reached Pappy's stall. Seeing that the Urgals were preoccupied with chaining Emerson, I turned to my horse, whispering to him with the hope that he would recognize my voice and calm down. Pappy continued to press his ears flat against his head, but his actual expression changed. He wasn't angry, he was just scared, and instinct wouldn't let him let his guard down for a moment. I swear, the first thing I'm doing when I get out of here is making him better.

Carefully, and still muttering to him, I reached forward with both my mind and my hand, trying to calm him. I had no success, and he shook my hand the moment I touched him. Whatever openness that had let me talk to him that first day in Alagaësia was long gone now, blocked on his part. Really, I need to prioritize; first I'm going to kill all the guards, then I'm going to get my baby horse better. In that order.

With a couple steadying breaths, I turned towards the stairway and started back down the stairs to what I'm going to think of as my room as opposed to my cell. I was careful, partly because I was tired but mostly because the steps were so steep and sharp that if I should miss one and fall down, I get the feeling that they will hit my body in all the right places and make me bleed so intensely that I'll die.

The prison was cold, and yet as I heard a mage muttering the words to rearrange the wall so that Emerson could walk through into his cell, the hallway filled with a strange warmth that I'd come to associate with the safety and comfort that Emerson provided me with. Don't dawdle, child, we have much to discuss.

With a very un-me-like burp, I rushed forward into the stall and smiled when the guards only shut it behind me, not rubbing the decisive click of the lock in my face. The idea that my door wasn't locked made me feel ridiculously free, considering there were still guards almost literally surrounding me. And not just guards – Urgal guards. They're, like, the supermen of the guard world. They can kill you with their horns, they're so badass.

Focus, Emerson ordered, nearly growling at me in frustration. My face falling slightly, I sunk back against Emerson's front leg, crossing my arms over my chest as he proceeded to fill me in on what information he had been able to glean from Murtagh's lectures. When we leave, we must head South towards the mountains. Any other way and we're doomed. The only problem is he refused to tell me which way South was.

I snorted, letting my head fall back against his rough hide, Doomed? Did you come up with that all by yourself?

It's actually the exact word that Thorn used, thank you very much.

And why would we be doomed?

He didn't say, but I would trust him. With a slight shiver, I realized that Emerson was deadly serious. Doom. I seriously thought real doom existed anymore, but then again I'm still forgetting what century I'm in. Damn. Anyway, anything but South is doom and I should be able to breathe fire within the month.

Feeling myself tighten, I glanced towards his head, Fire? I don't remember you saying anything about fi-

I know you're lying, Liaden, Emerson reminded me. I sighed, my head hanging low as Emerson rested his face between his paws, almost glowing at the idea. I mean, I'm not afraid of fire or anything, I just don't like the idea of Emerson, you know, breathing fire. It seems dangerous and cliché. Besides, what if he, I don't know, hurts himself? Or Thorn considers him a threat and goes after him? I shouldn't be given idle time. I worry too much.

Well, I found out from Murtagh that our guards are a species called Urgals, known for their extremely war-based culture. In my head, I mentally ticked off the things I learned, I found out the whole magical theory stuff, like how magic takes energy and jewels hold energy and stuff like that that probably won't help us escape. I paid attention, I just didn't care about any of it.

Emerson's snort this time brought forth a cloud of smoke, and again my entire body tensed, fighting the joy that Emerson was whooping around in my head. My God, he's acting like a teenage boy who just found his first chest hair. Did you see that? Did you, Liaden? I wasn't just imagining it, right? My Lord, if there was ever a time to block him out of my brain.

We won't say our goodbyes , you know it's better that way
We won't break, we won't die - it's just a moment of change
All we are, all we are is everything that's right
All we need, all we need: A lover's alibi

All We Are by One Republic