Ascertain Violet's level of danger being tethered to the Riorson boy before she is dragged into whatever nonsense he thinks he can get away with. My agreement with him ended the day he graduated, which I never would have made if I knew their dragons would seal their futures together.
RECOVERED CORRESPONDENCE FROM GENERAL LILITH SORRENGAIL TO LIEUTENANT MIRA SORRENGAIL
.
Mira
"Is Sgaeyl at the outpost?"
Teine's head turns sideways, and I assume he's checking in with the others stationed ahead.
"She is present. Tairn is not."
Good. I have words for Riorson and it would be best if my sister wasn't there to hear them.
The letter from the General burns in my pocket, my new orders to report to Samara. On paper, it says I'm there to support their wards, but I know that's not really why I've been reassigned. I'm at this new post because that's where Violet is sent every two weeks, and the only friendly face there is Xaden Riorson. So not super friendly.
I'm not an idiot. I know that I probably shouldn't have been honest when answering the General's letter about my opinions on seeing the two of them interact when her squad visited Montserrat. I mean, all I said was, and I quote: "No one was more surprised than me at the casual nature in which they interacted."
"And you did not think the General would find that…troubling?" Teine sasses up at me, and I mentally roll my eyes.
Also physically.
He drops me off outside the gates and I gather my things. Hopping down, happy to feel the earth beneath my feet, I make my way into the outpost under the darkening sky of the already set sun. I see some infantry and a rider I know, which makes me relax a bit. I get to my room and can't help but glare at the second bed on the other side as I belabor having a roommate. At least at Montserrat I had my own room. Yes, it was because the other bed was simply unoccupied, but that's irrelevant.
I toss my bag onto the bed and leave, heading out to find the duty station officer.
"Hey, Frazier."
"Oh shit! You're definitely not the Sorrengail I expected to see." His hand claps hard to my shoulder as he tosses his clipboard to the counter. "I saw the name on the list and kind of assumed it was the other one," he gestures with his hand to the height of his hip and I hold myself back from throwing a punch.
"Speaking of my sister, is there any way I could bunk with her? You know…seeing as she's here every other weekend and that pretty much leaves me with my own damn room? Maybe as a favor?"
The way his eyebrows hit his hairline and a half smirk tilts his thin lips prompts me to narrow my eyes.
"I'm not sure her roommate would approve. You're better off where you're assigned, trust me."
My reaction is to fold my arms over my chest and pin him down with a glare. "Her roommate?"
His face falls and he has the common sense to look like he just fucked up. "I mean…your -" he flounders, "Cadet Sorrengail stays with - with Lieutenant Riorson when she's…here."
"Calm down," my logical dragon attempts.
"Are you fucking kidding me?"
He tries again. "She's an adult."
"No. Absolutely not - you do not take any other side but mine on this one."
"Protective One, you are irrational when it comes to her."
"I'm all she has!"
"Apparently you are not," he smarts and our path goes quiet.
"Where is he." It's a demand, not a question, and Nielson points toward the pit.
I'm going to fucking kill him.
…
When I find Riorson, he's in the dirt with another lieutenant, the two circling with their fists raised. Both muscled chests are bare, but one of them has clearly spent more time on the mat than the other. It doesn't even look like a contest. Riorson is a fucking oak tree.
His knuckles are bloodied, but the lip, cheek, and eyebrow of the tall and lanky blonde opponent indicate who's probably going to walk away with this win.
Good. He won't be too hurt when I kick his ass.
I crowd my way down the stairs and join those standing just beyond the circle of packed dirt as they holler and cheer, demand and encourage, and I see gold coins change hands. I fold my arms over my chest and study Riorson's fighting style. If I'm going to beat the shit out of him, I might as well know what I'm up against.
If we're only speaking visually, I'm not too petty to admit that my sister has good taste. As much as I hate everything he stands for, don't trust him, and know he's probably up to no good, Xaden Riorson is really, fucking, hot. Not really my type, but despite the rage I feel when thinking of him taking advantage of her, I can't help but also think, 'good for you, Violet.'
"It makes no sense to be angry and proud of this at the same time," Teine grumbles with a hiss.
"Oh, go take a nap."
"Be more logical."
To my surprise, three strikes in and I know that Riorson is pulling his punches. There's no way the power in that corded arm sending the meaty fist into lanky's stomach doesn't rearrange his organs. While I could hear the air pushed violently through his lips, he only staggered back a few steps before regaining his footing and stepping back in.
"What's the fight for?" I holler to the infantryman next to me.
"Vogunn want's Riorson's room as he's a second lieutenant, so he challenged him for it."
"Riorson just got here as a new lieutenant and has his own room?" I'm shocked and a little pissed.
The soldier cheers as Vogunn shoots forward to grapple Riorson's waist, but the quick sprawl of trunk-like legs and a sharp tawny downward elbow to the back of the blonde's shoulder forces him to scramble back and retake a striking position.
Good to note - Riorson can grapple. One probably doesn't grow that many muscles without being able to handle just about anyone on the sparring mat, especially at Basgiath.
"C'mon, Riorson," he grunts, spitting blood from the cut in his lip off to the side. "You should give up now - those quarters are mine."
"Why does the more experienced lieutenant believe that the Rebellion one is tired? From what I glean, the mouthy one is losing." Teine seems to have taken an interest in the fight, so I fully open our bond to let him experience what he can.
"My guess is that he's just being cocky."
"Logic would dictate that arrogance be earned."
I grin and shake my head, my logical dragon making sense and not at the same time. I've won many a challenge on the mat over the years simply because I was cocky despite being outmatched. There's something to be said about verbalizing a win before you've locked it in that throws your opponent off just enough to sometimes ensure that you take the match.
"Question for ya," the lanky man drops his hands and bounces on the balls of his feet. "Does Sorrengail come with the room?"
"We can feast on him when he leaves the fort," Teine's overprotective growl and bout of anger floods our bond, my own flowering instantly under my skin from my relic where it splays across my left ribs.
My hands turn into fists and I move Riorson from my first order of business to my second. This asshole just hit the top of my damn list.
What I wasn't prepared for but not entirely surprised by was seeing two bronze-skinned fists slam with nearly unnatural speed into the man's nose and jaw. Looks like Riorson is done pulling his punches.
The next hit goes into the right side of the man's ribs and is followed by an elbow that cracks into the whole left side of his face, all before the absolutely stunned officer goes limp on his legs and tips into the dirt.
I'm pretty sure I saw a tooth fly into the small gathered crowd of riders and infantry along with a copious spray of blood from the burst dam in the man's nose. While many look down to see if the blonde is okay, my eyes are on Riorson.
Gods…this man is dangerous. Shadows creep out to swirl around his fists, and even though they're hanging down at his sides, the visual is terrifying, and almost all of the spectators take a quick step away from the mat, falling into near silence save for murmurs. But nothing compares to the rage that I see burning in his black eyes, and I'm pretty sure it matches my own. The furrow on his forehead that shadows his eyes along with the scar that bisects his brow are almost as ominous as the tense flex that pulses the muscles at the side of his jaw.
Riorson stalks forward to plant his feet to the right of the downed opponent's limp body, and in a menacing fashion, he crouches over him. A tendril of black grabs the man's bloodied chin and forces his head to turn and face what might as well be the revenge of Dunne in human form, and I'm in awe.
"Keep her name from your fucking mouth or next time I'll do more than knock some of your teeth out."
With that, the shadows disappear and he rises, steps off the mat, and only then do I notice another man with a Rebellion Relic off to the side that hands him a shirt. And damned if I don't see protective rage in his eyes as well.
"It seems our Sister has more friends than you originally thought." Even Teine sounds impressed, and I can't help but agree with him.
In all of my years, I've never once wanted to back down from kicking someone's ass. I hadn't planned on starting now, but damned if Xaden Riorson didn't just blast away most of my fucking anger.
The men drag their friend away, likely to the healers, and the crowd disperses. I stay my ground however, and it takes a moment for him to notice me standing there.
"Here to yell at me some more, Sorrengail?" His voice is still dark and it's not hard to see the anger still burning in his eyes.
"Honestly? I came down here to kick your ass."
Both his and the other marked one's heads turn to land eyes on me. Surprise clouds the thicker one's while humor dances in Riorson's. The two giants share a look before the other one walks from the room, leaving me and the rebellion leader's son alone in the dirt.
"Let me know if you're serious," he chuckles, his arms lifting the shirt up and over as he tugs it down around his waist. "I could go a few more rounds, Vogunn wasn't really much of a fight."
My laugh is sharp, "I saw you pulling your punches. Well…until the end anyway."
That shadow comes sliding back. "Yeah well, he got off light, I think. I left him breathing"
"For once, you and I agree on something."
He hits me with a crooked smile before moving to sit on the bench at the back side of the dirt arena floor, so I take up the seat across from him. We sit the same, elbows on our knees and hands clasped as we stare each other down. He talks first.
"If I remember correctly, the only thing we've ever agreed on is your sister's safety. So tell me," he pauses, "why come to kick my ass?"
"The days of Violet staying with you on her weekends here are over, Riorson."
"Coming in a little hot," Teine warns, but I barrel ahead as I usually do.
"Oh are they?"
Frustration flares in my chest. "She shouldn't be staying with you in the first place. She's a cadet and you're a lieutenant."
"That's not really a rule you know."
"For her? Make it a rule."
His eyes narrow as if he's truly studying if I'm serious or not, but that cocky smile is still on his face and I can't help but think that, unlike his opponent earlier, this cockiness is probably earned. In reaction, I lock my shields in place.
"And if I say no?"
I toss my hands in a shrug, "why would you say no?"
"You look like you want to fight, Mira."
"Don't talk to me as if you actually know me."
His eyes roll. "Do you want to fight, Sorrengail?"
Tein interjects. "He does not seem to recognize that you are already fighting."
"Do I need to knock you to the dirt for you to stop taking advantage of my sister?"
His eyebrows shoot up and I see his face change from pure overconfidence to one of overconfident curiosity. "I'm taking advantage of your sister? Have you met, Violence?"
Who the fuck does he think he is?
"I fucking hate that you call her that."
"Ooh, maybe you do want to fight."
My feet hit the dirt before I realize I'm standing. "Fuck you, Riorson."
The two steps I take crunch the dirt beneath my boots, and he has the gall to react to the rage I'm exuding with a sigh and a drop of his head, but he does stand. His steps make the same sound, and it's all that fills the stillness around us.
"Stick to swinging. If he grabs you, you are likely dead."
"Are you going to be here this whole fight?"
I feel Teine's indignation. "My advice is, as always, invaluable."
I lift my hands, fists clenched, but Riorson only folds his arms over his chest and stares me down. I don't balk. His glare might work on shivering first and second-years, but not on me.
"Have you bothered to ask your sister what she thinks about our sleeping arrangements?"
I glare. "Why can't you just stay away from her?"
"Do you want me to be honest? Or do you want me to say what you want to hear?"
I'm done. Stalking forward, I study his posture and move to strike. He has the common sense to uncross his arms, but my swing for his throat goes wide when he sidesteps and uses his forearm to parry my followup blow aiming for his ribs. Coming back in, I twist my body and let it release like a coil, my leg snapping around as I use my lesser magic to give me speed.
This had to have caught him off guard, because his dodge is slow enough for my boot to crack into his shoulder and tilt his body onto his off leg.
Surprise dances on his face, and a curl of a smile takes the place of the cocky grin. Finally. He nods and lifts his hands, loose and flexible.
"I don't go easy on opponent's that have me on the mat. Violence's sister or not."
Gods. Damn. Him. I'm absolutely positive he knows exactly how much that pissed me off and that my reaction would be to spring into action, but I don't really care. I'm a flurry of punches and kicks, and I know he's locked his magic into use as he blocks or parries, tossing a few pokes in of his own accord. My movement causes his knuckles to skim off my shoulder instead of cracking into my jaw.
That was a pulled punch.
"You're a fucking liar," I growl.
He takes a breath and nails me with a potent stare. "You want honesty?"
My frown gives me away, and though I was looking to charge in with a kick combo to his thigh thinking it's about time I chop down this fucking tree of a man, I pause.
"I don't do well when we're apart, and neither does she."
I roll my eyes, "Tairn and Sgaeyl's relationship has nothing to do with -"
He shakes his head. "I didn't say anything about our dragons."
Then Riorson goes on the offense and I find myself trying to digest his words while maneuvering to keep his fists from doing more than superficial damage when I block. The last hit is his massive elbow, and it slams past my defense with a sharp thud just below my collarbone. I tip back and realize that his calf is behind mine and he's using his heel to drag my weight-bearing leg out from underneath me.
I'm ready to hit the dirt and prepare to roll, determined to follow Teine's truly solid advice and keep Riorson from following-up to pin me in a grapple. He doesn't follow through, however, but my back also doesn't hit the ground. His corded arm snaps out and I'm fairly sure he's going to punch me right in the mouth, probably something I deserve most days. Instead, his fingers snag the front of my unbuttoned flight jacket collar and jerk - and I'm suddenly back on my feet while he bounces two steps away and reclaims his fighting stance.
"I believe he toys with you." My dragon sounds frustrated and indignant, and I find myself staring at my opponent as if I'm seeing him for the first time.
"What that fuck did you mean by that?" My sentence comes between harsh pants as the two of us breathe in the cool underground air.
"Do you want to talk or do you want to fight? Because your face says talk, but your fists say fight." Still cocky. Still wearing that half grin.
I look down and realize he's right. I've taken my stance back up and my fists are balled and ready.
"Violet doesn't deserve whatever bullshit you're planning on putting her through."
"She didn't deserve the bullshit I've already put her through," he says.
The tension snaps again and I dart forward, swinging left under his punch and slamming my fist hard up into his left side. It feels like I just punched a wall, but the sudden intake of air he sucks in and the pain in my fingers tells me that he felt that one. So I follow it with another, but his hand wraps around my forearm to redirect and hold it low against his knee as he steps into me and kills my momentum.
Speaking of a wall, his shoulder slams into my chest and I would have bounced off of him if he didn't have a firm, unyielding hold on me. That's when I see the shadow of his other fist swinging low, and I know I don't have the leverage in my left arm to parry efficiently. This is one I just have to take. As the air leaves my lungs in a whoosh, I don't have time to be upset that I know for a fact he pulled the punch in order to not send my lungs into my neck and my stomach into my ass. It hurts enough, and I know that a full force hit, especially amplified by his lesser magic, would have definitely put me in the infirmary.
Whatever my thoughts are on him pulling yet another punch don't matter. It doesn't stop my crumple as I fight to suck air into my suddenly paralyzed lungs.
"Shall I take up my grievance with Sgaeyl?"
"For fuck's sake, Teine, I've got this."
Sarcasm drips from his monotone growl, "you are doing so well. Keep it up. I believe in you."
"You okay?" Ugh. He has the gall to ask me that? I mean, yeah - I'm thankful for the reprieve that I know no other opponent would have given me, and I feel air begin to leak into my lungs as the furious muscles in my stomach twist and tense around the pain, but fuck him for faking concern.
"Oh, fuck off, Riorson." I want to sound as intimidating as I usually do, but it unfortunately comes out as a breathless wheeze.
"Gods. You're just like her."
My feet find their purchase and I stand back up to fix him with a glare. "You mean she's just like me?"
His denial by way of shaking head brings another bout of anger to race up my spine. "Violence truly isn't like anybody else. You of all people should know that."
"Stop talking to me about her as if you actually know her."
The way that scarred eyebrow cocks and his eyes turn into a glare is matched with one of my own. I'm not fucking scared of him.
"I'm surprised, for…you are indeed not scared of him." Teine rumbles.
"You really think she needs your protection? From me?"
"I do."
His scoffing laugh and the way he drops his guard and crosses his arms back over his chest makes me drop mine. I guess we're done fighting for the moment.
"Did I not prove myself at Montserrat? Or during War Games? Or did that news not reach you wherever you were deployed?"
Fuck - I hate not having all the same information my opponent has during a spar, verbal or otherwise. Now I have to ask Mom what the fuck happened during War Games at the end of last year and why Riorson is so cocky about it.
"Who you are negates any good will with me. My sister doesn't know shit about you, I know that for sure."
His response is to have another annoyed sigh. "You know I won't do anything to hurt her, whether or not you want to admit it."
Gods I hate when people tell me what I'm supposed to feel, what I'm supposed to know. "I have no clue what your plan is with Violet, but I do know that you still crave revenge against our mother."
"Every. Damn. Day."
Another shocking admission. Well, isn't Riorson just so full of surprises today.
Despite the fact that this is the second conversation I've had with the man ever, I'm shocked when his words surprise me. Instead of calling him out, I just gesture and say, 'well what the fuck' with my arms.
"What do you really want me to say, Sorrengail?" His question is serious and his glare is turning icy. For me, I haven't been joking. For him, I think he thought he could play around this whole time, and he's just now catching onto the fact that this isn't a fucking game. I did come down here to kick his ass, and I intend to do just that.
"You can't still be surprised that I don't trust you when it comes to her. She isn't strong enough to survive you playing with her before you decide she's only good for your revenge, and I'm not going to have another of my siblings become a gods damned name on a stone because of a fucking Riorson."
He surprises me again as the last vestiges of his joking demeanor disappears, shadows leaking around his dangerously muscled shoulders. One of his arms unfolds, and I'm not prepared for the aggressive point he levies in my direction.
"You don't get to be mad at me for teaching her how to survive when you and her mother abandoned her at Basgiath. You don't even know who Violet is any longer, and it shows."
"Spill his blood on the dirt of the arena then I'll apologize to his dragon for us both."
The pulse of power from my channeling surges and I take him by surprise. He recovers and keeps up with my aggression, and we flow back and forth from offense to defense.
Gone are the pulled back punches and I feel one slam into the top of my shoulder giving my left arm a deadening effect that tingles all the way down to my fingers.
I land my elbow against his chin, the scruff of a day's growth scraping against my skin, and I leave a red mark that I know will bruise into a purpling black. I lament not breaking his skin.
A moment later he catches me with the edge of his fist as I fail to lean away from the hit fast enough. I feel my lower lips slam into my teeth and split, the dribble of blood falling against my chin, and it makes me all the angrier.
How fucking dare him? How dare he thinks he knows Violet better than me, this fucking son of a traitor. I'm going to peel that fucking relic off his body and choke him to death with it.
"Graphic." While it sounds like a dig, the only thing I feel from my dragon is pride as I give just as good as I'm taking in this fight.
I kick into Riorson's side and a moment of panic hits me when he slams his arm around my calf, holding it tight to his body. I react with muscle memory and hop with my balancing leg to throw it up and over the held limb before jamming it forcefully forward. Pure victory floods my veins with adrenaline when the heel of my boot slams into the upper left side of his ribs and forces him to be the one to crumple down to a knee.
My hands catch my descent, the pebbles hard and rough against my palms, and I scramble to my feet to reclaim my stance. I have the momentum and my opponent is down. I know I could give him the same courtesy that he gave me earlier and allow him a moment to regain his composure.
"Fuck that."
Gods I love my dragon.
I curl my fist, set my shoulders and hips, and send it slamming into his face. He turns just in time for it to smash into his cheekbone, above the top of his swirling rebellion relic. I heard the snap and feel throbbing pressure of the broken knuckle, but I can also see the trickle of blood down his cheek and how his hand splays on the ground to catch himself.
"You don't have a gods damned clue about my relationship with my sister. She might be fucking you, but she'll grow up sooner or later."
I expect the tree to fall after that hit. I expect the fortress to shake with the impact of this bronze statue of a man as he hits the dirt.
That is not what happens.
From his crouched position, and taking into account that I've left myself wide fucking open in my assumption, he uses his leverage and lesser magic to spring forward and the air leaves my body in a rush for the second time in as many minutes when his shoulder drives hard into my stomach.
There's the familiar jolt from hitting the ground, right between my shoulderblades, and my teeth clatter together. Not hard enough to break, but hard enough that I would have bitten off a chunk of my tongue had it been in the way. I try and sweep myself from underneath him, and if Riorson was a normal-sized fucking guy, that may have worked. He shifts his weight, and I feel him sit heavy on my sore, tensing lower stomach, just above my hips, robbing me of any leverage.
His left knee pins my right arm to the ground beside me with a painful pinch that immediately begins to make my fingers tingle with oncoming numbness, and the tops of his feet hook over my thighs behind his back. Though the front of his body pushes forward, the bottom pushes back and I know that I can barely move, let alone maneuver.
The position I find myself in is right where I didn't want to be - losing a grappled fight against Xaden Riorson.
"HIT HIM."
My reaction to Teine's order is to throw a punch with my still-weakened but free left hand, and I catch Riorson right in the nose. A satisfying spurt of blood hits my leathers. Pulling it back for another, a cold vice snags my wrist as a tendril of shadow wraps four, then five, then a horrifyingly six times around my arm. It spirals from the wrist to the elbow, and the dirt flies a bit around my flight jacket with the force of him slamming it into the arena floor.
Perched above me like a harbinger of Malek, he lifts his fist and I prepare for the lights to go out, Teine's roar of primal anger echoing through our bond. He hates when I lose a fight but the fear that comes into my mind makes me wonder if this really might be how I end.
Maybe Violet wasn't the revenge against my mother after all. Maybe Riorson was just biding his time for me to be assigned alongside him long enough to gut me or break my neck on the mat.
But there's no follow-through. All that exists above me are miles of taut, coiled muscle and fiery onyx eyes speckled with yellow that I know desperately want to knock me the fuck out.
I don't have many regrets - this is him showing Violet exactly who he is. Those angry eyes had just a moment ago told me that they knew my sister better than I did. I hear his labored breathing and know that his body is still recovering from my kick, and since he's not pummeling my face into pulp, I fight against him to free my pinned right arm and hold onto my anger.
He might be done fighting, but I'm sure as hell not.
"Go ahead, Rioron - take your damn revenge. I'll take it for her. I know my sister. I fucking love my sister."
"So the fuck do I!"
The roaring growl that tears from his throat kills every ounce of fight I have left in me, and I'm sure my surprise shows. He climbs off of the full-mount position and slides a couple of feet away to sit with a grunt on the packed earth. His breathing is hard and he finally breaks my gaze, lifting his legs up to set his forearms against the top of his knees. The only sound is both of us fighting to suck air into our starved lungs and the occasional plop of blood from his nose into the sand between his legs.
I sit up with a grimace, my arm bracing against the rippling pain in my stomach from where he'd hit me earlier and where he'd slammed that boulder of a shoulder into me. I feel the slip of wet against my chin, and as my tongue worries the inside of my lower lip, I taste the bitter coppery tang of blood.
He's closed his eyes as if desperate to compose himself, so I get to take a good, long, hard look at the man. Blood drops from his right nostril and rolls over his lips before he tilts his head down and redirects the flow to the dirt.
"Fuck, Riorson, you asshole."
He groans, "fuck you too, Sorrengail. I was having a good day until you showed up."
Our gazes meet and I fully expect to see the lie hovering in his eyes, but his whole face shows the truth of why my sister stays in his room while she's in Samara.
"Gods damn it," the growl leaves my throat, and I mimic his posture on the floor as we stare daggers at one another. "What a fucking cliché you two are."
His face splits into a smile, juxtaposed by the blood that drops against his lips. The laugh he lets out prompts a release of adrenaline and energy within myself, and I find myself laughing with him, something I never would have predicted.
We laugh in the dirt together for long moments until we both fall into silence, catching our breaths.
"Tell me something real," I demand, and see surprise knock the smile from his face.
"Gods, she always asks me that."
I shrug with my sore left shoulder. "Our dad drilled it into us."
"We only have that one thing in common, Sorrengail - but believe me when I say it's enough."
I nod and push myself to my knees, holding a moment before I rise, my legs feeling a bit like they belong to a baby deer. My side cramps, refusing to let me stand to my full height, so I push my hand against my ribs and turn away.
Making for the exit, I look over my shoulder to where he still sits bleeding on the ground.
"It's Mira, Riorson. Get it right next time."
…