stories told

the  sky  seemed  endless  from  the  ground.

up  here,  it  felt…  closer.

not  something  distant  to  be  admired,  but  something  that  wrapped  around  them,  vast  and  alive,  stretching  in  every  direction  without  boundary.  the  world  below  had  begun  to  blur  into  shapes  and  colors,  familiar  things  reduced  to  something  almost  unrecognizable  —  small,  quiet,  far  removed  from  where  they  were  now.

malik  found  that  he  did  not  miss  it.

not  in  this  moment.

he  adjusted  his  grip  on  the  lead  line  again,  more  out  of  habit  now  than  necessity,  his  movements  steadier  with  each  passing  second.  the  rhythm  of  pyraxis’  wings  had  become  something  he  could  follow,  something  he  could  anticipate  and  with  it  came  a  quiet  confidence  that  settled  into  him  as  naturally  as  breath.

fabianus’  hand  had  not  left  his.

he  was  glad  for  it.

when  the  arm  around  his  waist  tightened,  malik  did  not  pull  away  —  if  anything,  he  leaned  back  into  it  just  a  fraction  more,  the  movement  subtle,  but  intentional.  the  warmth  at  his  back  was  grounding  in  a  way  he  had  not  expected,  a  steady  presence  against  the  vastness  around  them.

“i  think,”  he  began,  voice  softer  now,  though  the  wind  carried  it  easily  between  them,  “you  may  have  done  both.”  a  faint  smile  touched  his  lips.  “the  view…  and  you.”  there  was  no  hesitation  in  it.  no  careful  diplomacy.  just  quiet  honesty,  offered  as  easily  as  breath.

his  gaze  drifted  outward  again,  following  the  line  where  sky  met  distant  peaks,  where  clouds  cast  slow-moving  shadows  across  the  land  below.  for  a  moment,  he  said  nothing  at  all  —  simply  existing  within  it,  within  the  height,  the  motion,  the  rare  stillness  that  seemed  to  exist  only  here.

when  fabianus  asked  his  question,  malik  did  not  answer  immediately.

he  considered  it.

not  the  flight  itself  —  that  answer  came  easily  —  but  everything  that  surrounded  it.  what  it  meant  to  be  here,  to  be  invited,  to  be  trusted  with  something  so  deeply  tied  to  another  man’s  life…  another  man’s  self.

slowly,  he  turned  his  head  just  enough  that  his  voice  would  reach  him  more  clearly,  though  he  did  not  break  the  closeness  between  them.

“no,”  he  said  at  last.

simple.

certain.

then,  after  a  brief  pause,  softer—

“i  don’t  think  i  could  be  persuaded  to  stay  away…  even  if  i  tried.”

there  was  something  quieter  beneath  that,  something  unspoken  but  present  all  the  same.  his  fingers  shifted  slightly  against  the  lead  line,  no  longer  uncertain,  no  longer  tentative.  at  ease.  “you  may  come  to  regret  that  offer,”  he  added  lightly,  though  the  warmth  in  his  voice  betrayed  him.  another  small  pause.  then,  more  quietly  still—

“but  i  don’t  think  i  will.”

someone  to  finally  understand.

at  least  one  that  wasn't  related  to  him.

this  bonded  dragonriders  all  across  liathra.  that  much  was  certain.  very  rare  was  it  going  to  bind  one  of  them  to  someone  that  lacked  a  connection  to  a  dragon.  fabianus  was  comfortable  with  sharing  pyraxis  with  the  other  second-born  though.  he  seemed  to  understand  him. 

if  they  could,  he'd  tell  the  red  dragon  to  keep  flying.

never  return  back  to  the  ground.

up  there,  they  faced  no  pressure  of  the  ground.  she  was  strong  enough  to  care  them  and  push  through  the  clouds.  they  were  used  to  each  others'  company  in  a  short  time  that  they  didn't  seem  to  mind  being  together.  so  why  did  they  have  to  come  back?  that  was  something  he  kept  circling  back  to. 

malik  allowed  him  not  to  miss  the  others. 

he  had  the  most  intriguing  one  with  him. 

while  his  eyes  were  now  glued  to  the  open  sky  ahead  of  them,  he  was  much  more  aware  of  how  pressed  together  their  bodies  were.  the  other  prince  didn't  pull  away  from  his  hold.  not  that  he  had  much  of  anywhere  to  go.  still,  the  man  thought  that  was  on  purpose. 

“and  me?  careful  now.  you  are  going  to  make  me  think  my  role  in  your  life  is  much  bigger.”  which  he  wouldn't  mind.  if  anything,  he  would  feel  flattered.  the  man  was  already  high  up  on  his  own  list. 

when  silence  fell  in  between  the  three  of  them  for  a  brief  moment,  fabianus  relished  in  it.  that  was  a  fact  that  pyraxis  seemed  to  be  surprised  by,  dipping  a  little  bit  during  the  ride.  he  was  never  good  with  quiet.  until  it  came  in  the  form  of  the  other  prince  apparently.   

so  he  didn't  push  for  an  answer  to  his  question.   

he  gave  him  a  moment  to  think. 

the  way  that  the  words  traveled  and  how  he  could  feel  the  warm  breath  closer  was  enough  to  let  him  know  that  the  position  changed  slightly.  fabianus  froze  momentarily.  he  didn't  want  to  ruin  it.

a  part  of  him  wondered  if  he  was  going  too  fast.  he  never  liked  letting  people  in  that  easily,  but  he  couldn't  help  it.

“good.”  that  settled  it.

they  were  in  this  together. 

no  questions  asked  about  it.

“have  you  always  been  this  much  of  a  smooth  talker?” 

maybe  it  was  because  they  were  alone  on  pyraxis  in  the  middle  of  the  skies,  but  malik  made  him  feel  like  he  was  the  only  man  that  existed.  he  didn't  know  how  he  felt  about  that.  “i  will  never  regret  it.”  that  much  he  was  certain  about.  the  hand  around  his  spread  out  further,  but  didn't  tighten  too  hard  around  the  grip. 

“you  will  always  have  a  place  here.” 

the  moment  pyraxis  moved,  malik  felt  it  through  his  entire  body.

not  abrupt,  not  violent  —  but  undeniable.  a  living  force  gathering  beneath  him,  coiling  and  releasing  in  powerful  rhythm  as  wings  carved  into  the  air.  the  ground  did  not  vanish  all  at  once;  it  slipped  away  in  increments,  stone  and  snow  and  shadow  stretching  farther  and  farther  below  until  the  mountain  that  had  once  loomed  so  large  began  to  feel…  distant.

for  the  briefest  second,  his  breath  caught.

not  from  fear.

from  the  sheer  magnitude  of  it.

his  fingers  tightened  instinctively  around  the  lead  line,  the  motion  almost  reflexive,  but  fabianus’  hand  over  his  steadied  him  before  it  could  turn  uncertain.  that  touch  —  warm,  deliberate,  guiding  —  anchored  him  just  as  much  as  the  dragon  beneath  him  did.  perhaps  more.

“i  am  breathing,”  he  murmured,  softer  than  before,  though  there  was  the  faintest  lift  to  his  voice  that  betrayed  how  deeply  he  felt  it  all.

another  beat  of  wings.

higher.

the  air  shifted  around  them,  no  longer  something  that  brushed  past  him,  but  something  that  carried  them  —  alive,  moving,  endless.  it  tugged  at  the  fur  lining  of  his  coat,  threaded  through  his  hair,  kissed  against  his  skin  with  a  chill  that  was  quickly  chased  away  by  the  steady  warmth  of  pyraxis  beneath  him…  and  fabianus  behind  him.

malik  exhaled  again,  slower  this  time.  deliberate.

his  shoulders  eased.

and  then,  without  quite  thinking  about  it,  he  leaned  back.

only  slightly  at  first  —  a  test,  a  question  more  than  a  decision,  until  the  contact  became  something  fuller,  more  certain.  his  back  settled  against  fabianus’  chest,  fitting  there  with  an  ease  that  surprised  him,  as  though  the  space  had  always  been  meant  to  be  filled.

it  grounded  him  in  a  way  the  mountain  never  could.

“this  is…”  he  began,  only  to  fall  quiet  again,  his  gaze  drifting  outward  instead  of  downward  now.  the  sky  stretched  endlessly  ahead  of  them,  untouched  and  vast  in  a  way  that  felt  almost  sacred.  for  once,  malik  did  not  search  for  the  right  word  immediately.

he  simply  let  himself  exist  within  it.

“…you  undersold  it,”  he  finished  at  last,  voice  quieter,  but  threaded  with  something  softer  now  —  something  freer.  there  was  the  faintest  curve  to  his  lips  as  he  spoke,  though  it  was  not  the  same  carefully  measured  smile  he  so  often  wore.  this  one  came  easier.  unguarded.

his  hand  adjusted  on  the  lead  line  under  fabianus’  guidance,  more  certain  now,  less  tentative.  the  earlier  awareness  of  each  movement  began  to  give  way  to  something  smoother,  something  instinctive,  as  though  his  body  was  learning  the  rhythm  of  the  dragon  beneath  him.

below  them,  the  world  continued  to  fall  away.

and  yet,  malik  did  not  feel  like  he  was  losing  anything.

if  anything,  he  felt  as  though  something  was  being  placed  gently  into  his  hands,  something  vast  and  impossible  and  entirely  new.  he  tilted  his  head  just  slightly,  enough  that  his  voice  would  carry  back  more  easily,  though  he  did  not  pull  away  even  when  presented  with  fabianus'  impressive  jawline.

“if  this  is  your  world,”  he  murmured,  softer  now,  almost  thoughtful,  “i  can  see  why  you  never  wish  to  leave  it.”

a  small  pause  followed.

then,  quieter  still—

“i’m  glad  you  let  me  into  it.”

perhaps  he  should  have  told  pyraxis  to  take  it  slow. 

when  she  picked  up  and  started  to  flap  her  wings,  going  higher  and  higher,  there  was  no  matter  of  stopping  her  though.  there  was  a  similarity  between  the  two  of  them.  a  sense  of  stubbornness  that  could  also  be  seen  as  perception.  the  second-born  appreciated  it  because  he  didn't  have  to  command  her.

she  knew  what  he  needed.

right  in  that  moment,  it  was  distance  from  others.

privacy  for  the  three  of  them. 

while  his  skin  started  to  cool  thanks  to  the  elevation,  there  was  a  fire  that  was  burning  from  within  him.  the  hand  over  malik's  continued  to  rub  his  thumb.  he  wanted  to  ensure  that  he  could  act  quickly  if  needed.  although,  the  other  was  a  born  natural  at  this.  impressive. 

the  smile  could  be  heard  through  his  own  words.  “good.  i  thought  i  took  your  breath  away.” 

he  couldn't  help  the  subtle  flirtation. 

higher,  higher.

feeling  the  man's  body  press  against  his  even  firmer  was  a  welcome  change.  he  rolled  his  own  shoulders  back  to  loosen  himself  up.  normally,  he  was  always  tense.  on  edge.  people  were  constantly  watching  and  he  had  to  protect  his  own  reputation.  there,  he  knew  that  he  was  safe  from  judgement.  a  rare  thing.

at  least  when  it  came  to  being  around  company. 

so,  he  was  able  to  breathe.

his  chest  moved  with  malik's  body. 

a  part  of  him  was  surprised  at  how  well  they  seemed  to  fit  with  each  other.  like  two  pieces  of  a  machine  slotting  together.  a  button  sliding  into  the  hole  of  a  jacket.  he  didn't  want  to  be  without  it,  so  the  arm  around  his  waist  tightened.   

there  was  a  fear  of  losing  malik,  but  he  couldn't  describe  it.

hearing  what  the  other  thought  of  the  ride  brought  a  wider  smile  to  his  features  as  well.  was  that  genuine  joy  that  he  was  feeling?  insane  to  think  so.  no  competition,  no  performance,  simply  living  in  the  moment.

could  he  get  used  to  this?

“did  i?  my  apologize,  my  prince,  as  it  was  not  my  intention  to.”  although  he  was  calmer,  fabianus'  voice  was  still  ringing  loud  and  proud.  something  he  could  not  walk  away  from.  it  was  like  muscle  memory  in  his  own  body.  the  tension  was  gone,  but  that  remained. 

the  touch  seemed  to  not  be  needed  anymore.  with  each  passing  moment,  malik  gained  more  confidence  while  holding  onto  the  lead  line.  he  couldn't  be  prouder.  his  fingers  still  draped  over  his,  never  leaving.

as  the  world  got  smaller,  he  needed  someone  there.

a  grounding  force  that  would  bring  him  back. 

dragonriders  knew  this  moment  like  the  back  of  their  hand.  for  fabianus,  it  was  as  simple  as  training.  outsiders  did  not  always  get  the  privilege  to  experience  it,  but  the  prince  did  not  have  any  other  option.  as  he  leaned  on  the  man's  shoulder,  he  sighed  happily.  did  they  have  to  return  to  the  ground? 

“do  you  think  this  is  the  last  time  you'll  partake  in  it?”  he  desperately  wanted  the  answer  to  be  no.

the  gratitude  was  surprising.

how  hardened  was  he?

“you  are  always  welcomed  up  here.” 

He had already marked the rhythm of them -- the uneven weight, the lingering edge of exertion. Steel still rang faintly in the air, carried on Fabianus’ presence as much as the scent of sweat and iron that followed him onto the terrace.

Predictable. In its own way.

Only when Fabianus spoke did Cassius shift, just slightly, enough to acknowledge without conceding full attention. The ring between his fingers turned once more before stilling entirely.

Draconic.

Of course.

“Commitment,” Cassius repeated, the word measured, as though testing its shape. His gaze flicked briefly toward the sky -- toward Varyx’s circling form -- before returning, at last, to his second eldest brother. “If that is what you call it.”

There was no heat in his reply -- no challenge, just quiet curiosity.

His gaze lingered a moment longer than necessary, taking in the details Fabianus had neglected to conceal -- the discarded helmet, the unspent energy thrumming beneath his skin, the restless search for something that had not yet been found.

Or someone.

Cassius let out a soft, humorless chuckle. “Do you not also commit to your own whims, brother?”

The ring resumed its slow rotation between his fingers.

they were all taught different things growing up. even though fabianus didn't like acknowledging it, all of the skywarden's were perceptive. being able to tell the shift in the winds meant that they were good at picking up changes.

as long as others didn't read him that well.

the lack of attention festered a specific annoyance within the older man. one that was only saved for his father and brothers. his knuckles cracked as he curled his hand around the blade's handle. the tension could be heard from a mile away.

yet, this conversation would stay between them.

finally, he could see pyraxis approaching them in the sky. a part of him wondered if she would get closer now that varyx was also in the air. "that is what i said, is it not?" now it was him who was gazing away from his brother.

feeling on edge was easy around them. they didn't even need to do anything.

his grip loosened on his handle and he dropped his hand back to his side. he didn't let up. fabianus was always ready for a battle even if all they had known was peace. his gaze went down from the sky and over to cassius once again.

always watch for a reaction.

especially when things were trying to be turned on him. "if it is sporadic, then can it be considered a commitment? whims are called that for a reason."

although he was highly predictable. ever since he bonded with his dragon.

As he busied himself with taking out paints and setting his sketchpad in his lap, he looked up when given the choice of whether he wanted Bruinen in the water or not. He leaned forward, propping his head up on one hand, followed by his elbow and side of his knee. “What do you think I’d want?” He asked, his tone curious as his voice bounced off the walls subtly.

when the question was tossed back to him, bruinen did not need to hesitate. it was his job to know what everyone said in ritrinc. that meant that he also knew the gossip that was spread about riven and his brothers. so he made sure to strip down and then slip into the water. soon enough, his body was transformation and his tail that resembled a shark was exposed.

the master of whispers dove under the surface for a bit. then, he came swimming back up and perched himself near a large boulder. "if this isn't what you wanted, then i guess we'll have to wait till i dry off." he snickered lowly and splashed his tail on the surface.

The third in the Ulmaris legacy was not known to come out much during the day if he could help it, so it made sense for him to be invited out during the setting sun. He didn't know what to expect, but when he looked at the waterfall pouring into the isolated pool of water, a small but clear smile pulled at the corners of his mouth before he let out a huff. Riven was...impressed.

when it came to the heirs of the crown, bruinen felt like he had his hands full. even as he escorted riven out to the secluded waters, there was a voice in the back of his head saying that the other might not like it. so the compliment seemed to finally let him breathe. his shoulders dropped and his body fully seemed to relax. although, he wasn't going to start counting his victories quite yet.

"i am glad. feel free to come back here whenever you need a break from the palace." it could be a lot of pressure. especially for the four princes, not just the crown. bruinen glanced over at riven and his art supplies when he was asked to pose. again, he had no issue with it. maybe he shouldn't be as easygoing as he was. "out of the water or in?" he would give him the choice. he knew that he wasn't as regal as some of the other merfolk, since his fish side was associated with more of a hunter than anything else. not everyone was comfortable with a shark in their waters. "i am comfortable with both."

The storm had not yet broken, but it lingered -- heavy, waiting -- pressing low against the sky as though the world itself held its breath.

Cassius stood at the edge of the upper terrace of Regia Ignis, one hand resting lightly against the cool stone, the other idly turning a gold ring around his finger -- once, twice, again. Below, the city stirred in slow motion, lanterns dimming as morning took hold, unaware -- or perhaps simply unconcerned -- with what gathered overhead.

He had always found that curious: how easily people accepted quiet.

Behind him, a war table had been abandoned mid-thought -- maps spread wide, ink still drying in careful annotations, markers shifted just enough to suggest something not yet spoken aloud. A pattern forming. Or perhaps unraveling.

Cassius exhaled slowly.

There were always patterns.

Some simply took longer to reveal themselves.

A shadow passed overhead -- silent, swift.

He didn’t look up.

“Circling already?” he murmured, tone dry, though not unkind. “You’ll make them nervous.”

Varyx's low, amused rumble answered him, felt more than heard.

Cassius allowed the faintest hint of a smile before it faded just as quickly, his attention drifting outward once more -- toward the horizon, toward the storm, toward something unseen.

Or perhaps... toward someone.

“You’ve been standing there long enough to decide whether or not to approach,” he said in Common at last, voice carrying just enough to reach without effort. No surprise. No tension.

Only quiet certainty.

A pause.

the second-born prince of vissai never did well with quiet. he made the soldiers line up so that he could practice with them. spar until their bones hurt.

they didn't hurt for fabianus. if anything, he was high off of the adrenaline after the training. swords clanging together was a beautiful noise in his mind. sure, his breathing had gotten heavier, but that wasn't exactly a bad thing. he discarded his helmet and went to find pyraxis.

the only thing that he wanted more in that moment was to ride his dragon.

he was done trying to prove to their father that he was better than darius. over the tension that he carried on his shoulders. he needed to feel free. while he should have went to go shower, that wasn't on his mind in that moment.

he dropped his helmet along the way.

then scanned the skies as he walked forward.

varyx was there instead.

not his own dragon, where was she?

ironically, she followed the beat of her own drum much like her rider. fabianus couldn't be surprised that she was doing her own thing.

so instead, he searched for cassius, who couldn't be too far away.

when he reached him, there was a low chuckle that crawled out of his throat. it was drier than he had intended, but he hadn't spoken in over an hour. the grunts of battle taking over him instead.

"this family is obsessed with commitment." he didn't respond in common. as he finally crossed over to stand near cassius, he used their language of dragons to communicate.

"maybe i was just giving the two of you some space." he scoffed as he looked at the sky, glancing up at varyx again.

darius  felt  it  —  the  moment  nosh’s  gaze  lifted,  settling  on  him  with  intent  rather  than  passing  curiosity.  it  was  not  unfamiliar,  being  watched,  measured,  weighed…  but  this  felt  different.  less  like  expectation,  more  like  interest.  it  held  longer  than  it  needed  to.  longer  than  it  should  have.

he  did  not  look  away.

instead,  he  allowed  himself  a  brief  glance  in  return,  taking  in  the  way  the  sunlight  caught  along  the  man’s  features  as  he  stepped  into  it,  the  warmth  softening  something  in  his  expression.  it  suited  him,  darius  thought  —  far  too  easily.

“you  give  my  words  more  weight  than  they  deserve,”  he  replied  at  last,  voice  smooth,  though  quieter  now,  less  performative  than  before.  “but  i  will  not  pretend  i  dislike  the  favor.”  a  faint  curve  touched  his  mouth,  fleeting,  but  genuine.

at  the  question,  his  gaze  shifted  forward  again,  thoughtful.  for  a  moment,  he  said  nothing,  as  though  considering  the  answer  rather  than  reaching  for  one  already  prepared.

“i  was  taught  that  words  carry  power,”  he  said  slowly,  “that  they  shape  perception,  bind  alliances,  and  sometimes…  prevent  the  need  for  action  altogether.”  a  small  pause.  “but  i  was  also  taught  that  words  alone  are  rarely  enough.”  his  eyes  flicked  back  to  nosh,  sharper  now,  though  not  unkind.  “so  perhaps  i  do  fall  somewhere  in  the  middle,”  he  admitted.  “though  i  suspect  the  world  has  a  way  of  deciding  for  us,  eventually.”

the  comment  about  honor  lingered  a  moment  longer  than  the  others.  darius  did  not  respond  to  it  immediately  —  not  out  of  dismissal,  but  because  it  was  not  something  he  took  lightly.  “honor,”  he  echoed  quietly,  as  if  testing  the  word  rather  than  accepting  it.  then,  softer,  “i  think  it  is  easier  to  see  in  others  than  in  oneself.”  it  was  the  closest  he  came  to  contradiction.

they  stepped  fully  into  the  chamber  then,  sunlight  spilling  across  the  stone,  catching  in  the  gold  of  his  armor,  warming  what  little  of  him  it  could  reach.  for  a  brief  moment,  he  allowed  himself  to  simply  stand  in  it,  the  tension  of  the  throne  room,  the  weight  of  expectation,  loosening  just  slightly.  when  he  spoke  again,  his  tone  shifted  —  lighter,  though  no  less  deliberate.

“as  for  what  interests  me,”  he  continued,  glancing  back  to  nosh,  “i  find  i  am  drawn  to  things  that  do  not  demand  anything  of  me.”  a  subtle  pause,  just  enough  to  let  the  thought  settle.  “history,  perhaps.  not  the  kind  written  for  courts,  but  the  quieter  accounts  —  the  ones  people  do  not  intend  to  leave  behind.  the  kind  you  find  at  the  temples  in  town.”  remnants  of  a  time  before  vissai  was  the  kingdom  they  knew.  his  gaze  lingered  a  fraction  too  long  again.

“and  people,”  he  added,  almost  as  an  afterthought,  though  the  weight  of  it  suggested  otherwise.  “they  tend  to  reveal  far  more  than  they  realize…  when  they  are  not  trying  to  be  understood.”

another  pause  followed  —  shorter  this  time,  less  guarded.

“and  flying,”  darius  said,  more  quietly  now,  though  something  in  his  tone  shifted,  softened.  “there  is  very  little  in  this  world  that  compares  to  it.”  his  eyes  drifted  briefly,  not  unfocused,  but  distant  in  a  way  that  suggested  memory  rather  than  distraction.  “dragons  do  not  care  for  titles,”  he  continued,  the  faintest  hint  of  something  real  —  something  unpracticed  —  threading  through  his  voice.  “or  expectations.  they  demand  presence,  nothing  more.  and  when  you  are  with  them…  there  is  no  room  left  for  anything  else.”

people  in  high  positions  of  power  were  normally  used  to  being  seized  up.  nosherwan  wasn't  doing  it  to  find  weaknesses  in  darius  however.  if  anything,  he  was  admiring  all  of  the  good  traits  that  he  had  seen  of  the  man  so  far.  looking  for  more  to  spot. 

a  strong  future  king. 

that  much  was  obvious.  so  as  much  as  he  allowed  himself  relax  in  the  newfound  warmth,  he  wasn't  going  to  let  that  lower  his  guard.  he  was  in  vissai  for  a  purpose  and  he  would  make  sure  to  see  it  through. 

“you  seem  to  not  know  the  power  and  class  that  they  hold.  truly,  you're  one  of  the  most  wellspoken  crown  princes  i've  met.”  and  he  had  seen  several  through  his  life.  “good.  i  wouldn't  want  to  make  you  uncomfortable.” 

that  wasn't  the  goal  for  his  trip.  technically,  that  part  was  alreayd  done.  he  could  have  went  back  home  feeling  accomplished.  yet,  he  wanted  to  get  to  know  the  other.

“sometimes,  perception  can  truly  be  all,  can't  it?  if  one  person  thinks  you  mean  them  harm  because  of  your  tone,  it  can  cause  a  whole  outbreak.”  he  wasn't  that  paranoid,  but  he  wasn't  talking  about  himself.  “they're  rarely  enough,  but  they're  almost  always  what  kick  things  off.”  which  meant  they  had  to  be  careful.  “the  middle  is  a  good  place  to  be.  stay  as  long  as  you  can.” 

that  part  was  true.  not  many  were  used  to  holding  a  mirror  up  to  themselves.  something  that  nosherwan  was  always  confused  by,  but  he  loved  his  own  reflection.  “then  allow  me  to  be  the  one  to  see  it  in  you.”  he  bowed  his  head  slightly  as  a  form  of  acknowledgment.  once  more,  he  only  meant  to  compliment  darius  with  his  words. 

this  place  seemed  to  be  what  he  had  needed  since  stepping  foot  into  the  palace.  not  only  was  the  sunlight  finally  shining  down  on  him,  but  the  crown's  armor  was  also  reflecting  it.  warmth  radiated  off  of  every  corner  and  nosherwan  found  himself  getting  a  little  too  comfortable.  it  was  like  his  strength  and  power  was  coming  back  to  him. 

“what's  not  easily  seen  or  known  can  provide  great  insight  for  someone.”  the  answer  seemed  to  actually  surprise  the  changeling.  evident  in  the  fact  that  his  eyes  had  widened  a  bit  and  he  leaned  forward,  closer  to  darius.  “have  you  found  a  lot  of  temples  to  roam?  i'm  sure  your  dragon  gives  you  access  to  a  lot  of  different  places.”  ones  that  not  everyone  would  have  access  to.  that  alone  could  give  some  more  knowledge  than  the  normal  person  could  have  had.  interesting. 

"do  you  often  watch  others  when  they  don't  know  they're  being  watched  then?"  his  tongue  licked  his  lips.  he  did  the  same.  “you're  right.  they  are  truly  themselves  in  those  moments.” 

all  of  the  information  was  eye  opening.

finally,  the  answer  that  he  had  expected  all  along.  that  simply  provoked  a  nod  from  his  side,  not  too  surprised.  “i'm  sure  that  for  someone  that  doesn't  like  to  have  things  expected  of  him,  the  freedom  of  flying  away  from  others  can  be  liberating.”  in  the  sky  he  didn't  have  to  be  a  crown  prince.  he  didn't  have  to  be  anything.  nosherwan  couldn't  even  imagine  it  himself.  “do  you  have  a  strong  bond  with  several  dragons  or  is  it  mainly  your  own?”  he  didn't  know  how  that  fully  worked. 

Nathaniel had a thing of always trusting people, was it the brightest thing for a prince to do in a world where people would do things to hurt him to just send a message to his family: not at all. He wasn’t sure anything would stop him from just being a decent person, least nothing that he could think off of the top of his almost naive mind. He nodded his head with a smile as the other prince spoke, almost as if he wasn’t sure that Nathaniel was real. “Yea, I believe that people can be trusted until they give you a reason not to. You have no reason to not follow through with your part of the plan and me doing it first will show a sign of good faith,” said Nathaniel with a shrug, “besides, I don’t think you would lie to me.”

He loved the way the dimples showed on his face when he smiled, he loved that his compliments had awoken the cutest dimple he had ever seen in his life appear on the face. Nathaniel wanted to reach out and touch it, but the hand against his tail cause him to shiver as he closed his eyes, biting his lip to stifle a moan that threatened to come out. It might not have been wise to tell the man he could touch his tail, especially with how sensitive it had been lately, but at the same time; he welcomed it. “It feels fantastic actually, it usually does, but lately I think it’s becoming more sensitive,” said Nathaniel as he looked into Fabianus eyes, reaching out to caress his face near his dimple, “do you like it?”

maybe it was because of his upbringing. fabianus was used to people having to challenge him to be able to prove something. whether that was his strength or his ability to lead. even his ability to be trusted with something. the master of whispers had set several traps for him already to be able to report back to the king. so another prince openly trusting him was something that was new for him. he almost didn't know how to take the whole situation at first. "that's a strong skill to have. keeps you open to new experiences. a lot of people would be the opposite way, you'd have to earn their trust." which could lead to challenging conversations. "thank you for having faith in me."

seeing how the touch to the tail seemed to be a good thing, fabianus decided not to hold back. instead of just running the tips of his fingers over it, he pressed his whole palm down on nathaniel's bottom half. then, he continued to stroke it, slowly moving his hand up and down. he wanted to see just how good it felt for him. "that's good to hear. sensitive in what way? like someone pinching your nipple or someone touching your hole?" the examples were strange at best, blunt, but he wanted to know what it felt like. "i do. it's an interesting texture. feels smooth even though i didn't think that it would have."

malik  felt  the  shift  the  moment  fabianus  settled  behind  him.

closer  still.

the  arm  around  his  waist  was  firm,  grounding  rather  than  restraining,  and  the  warmth  of  the  dragonrider’s  body  pressed  against  his  back  made  the  mountain  air  feel  far  less  sharp.  for  a  brief  second,  malik  forgot  entirely  how  high  they  were.

not  because  of  the  dragon.

because  of  him.

pyraxis’  heat  rolled  around  them  when  she  breathed  out,  the  warmth  surprising  enough  that  malik  let  out  the  quietest  breath  of  amusement.  “she  is  perceptive,”  he  murmured,  voice  low,  though  the  slight  tilt  of  his  head  suggested  he  was  aware  that  he  was  being  discussed.

perhaps  judged.

he  didn’t  seem  to  mind.  when  fabianus  called  him  his  favorite  problem,  the  faint  smile  that  formed  was  impossible  to  hide.  that  sounded  dangerously  close  to  a  promise.  then  his  gaze  followed  where  fabianus  pointed.

the  lead  line.

malik  reached  for  it  slowly  with  a  little  nod  that  was  mostly  for  himself,  fingers  brushing  along  the  worn  leather  before  wrapping  around  it.  there  was  something  grounding  about  the  weight  of  it  in  his  hand  —  another  reminder  that  this  was  real.

that  fabianus  trusted  him  with  this.

for  just  a  moment,  he  glanced  down  the  mountainside  again.

wind.

open  sky.

distance  enough  to  make  most  men  hesitate.

malik  did  not.

“i  suppose  i  should  try  not  to  embarrass  myself  on  my  first  flight,”  he  said  lightly.  but  there  was  excitement  beneath  it  now.  real  excitement.  his  grip  on  the  line  tightened  slightly.  “ready,  pyraxis?”  the  question  was  softer  than  it  should  have  been,  almost  respectful.  then  malik  leaned  back  just  slightly  into  fabianus’  hold.  and  pulled.

no  amount  of  closeness  would  ever  be  enough  for  him.

this  felt  right. 

the  way  that  they  seemed  to  slide  in  together  was  interesting.  fabianus  wasn't  a  stranger  to  physical  contact,  but  this  was  different.  he  wasn't  jumping  into  the  sack.  instead,  he  wanted  to  be  a  strong  foundation  for  the  prince. 

like  pyraxis  was  for  him. 

he  wanted  to  be  for  malik. 

both  of  them  understood  what  the  prince  meant  by  that  and  all  the  vissai  rake  did  was  nod.  “she  is.”  the  dragon  spoke  back  to  him,  but  it  was  something  that  he  chose  not  to  entertain.  didn't  want  to  keep  talking  about  malik  without  him  understanding. 

at  least  for  now. 

technically,  this  wouldn't  have  been  allowed  too  much.  most  of  the  dragonriders  would  have  taken  the  lead  themselves.  would  have  sat  in  front  and  grab  the  line  themselves.  this  was  different. 

he  trusted  him. 

the  older  prince  wanted  to  make  that  clear  too.  still,  he  was  there  to  guide  him.  he  moved  his  hand  over  malik's,  sliding  his  fingers  over  his  to  be  able  to  help  him.  pyraxis  seemed  to  be  able  to  trust  them  both  too.

so  he  wasn't  too  scared  about  what  came  next. 

this  wasn't  normal  for  him,  but  it  was  good.

power.   

freedom. 

that's  what  he  was  sharing  with  him. 

malik  seemed  to  go  for  it  too.

“it  is  pretty  endearing  that  you're  worried  about  embarrassing  yourself.  you're  doing  fine.”  the  dragon  replied  to  fabianus,  but  also  nodded  and  looked  ahead.  so  he  tightened  his  grip  around  malik's  hand  and  wrapped  his  free  arm  around  his  waist.  then,  she  pushed  up  from  the  ground  and  started  to  flap  her  wings,  taking  them  up  to  the  sky  slowly.  “don't  forget  to  breathe.” 

It might have been because the man currently touching him was the one who popped his cherry, but any other man that he was with was always playing second best to his father. This man seemed to know how to touch him in ways that his other lovers haven’t discovered yet, but not from lack of trying. It almost seemed effortless in the ways that his father could just touch him and cause his entire body to shake and a moan to escape from his lips. They had always known their relationship was more than father and son, more than mentor and student; it was on a level that he wasn’t sure a word for it yet. He knew he might have a husband in the future, but he knew he would never stop playing with his dad.

Moaning loudly as his father sucked on his tongue and moaning as his dad pushed him back by his neck and made the sweetest promise to the younger man. One that caused a smirk to appear on his face as he nodded his head and kissed his father sweetly on the lips as he slipped off the lap with ease. He reached out for his father’s hand as he turned towards the tub. He didn’t make any moves to take off his clothes as his father prepared the bath, during their time together it was their responsibility to undress each other and that was almost Biju’s favorite part of it.

“At least if we make love in the tub, the cleanup would be easy,” said Biju as he moved closer to his dad, biting his lip, “though I do like cleaning you up with my tongue too or when you cum inside of me. Though I think that is more because sometimes you want to breed your boy.”

when it came to understand biju's body and his desires, devansh thought that he had done a good job at that. he wanted to make sure that his son knew all of the pleasure of the world. knew exactly what to seek out when it came to having other partners. yet, decades later, they were still finding their way back to one another. his wife was no longer around, died years ago, but he hoped that wasn't stopping his heir from finding his own match. he knew that there was someone out there worthy enough of him. selfishly, he wondered if that was one of the princes. still, he wouldn't deny him the intimate moments that they could still share together until that day would come.

once the bath was prepared, he made sure to fuse some of his own magic into it. as he poured some bath salts into the tub, he whispered an incantation and his free hand moved around a bit. it looked like there were jets forming underneath the surface, allowing the pressure to build up stronger for the water. at the same time, there would be no mess as it wouldn't spill from the tub. no matter how high it went. elemental magic was the strong suit of the varlinnis kingdom and the arcanis line. so this was something that the high priest was prideful over.

"always thinking one step ahead, aren't you?" when he turned back to face biju, he moved his hands to start undoing his clothes. slow and deliberate movements. "i can still breed you if we get out of the tub before. you can clean me with your tongue before we step inside too."

aren  watched  him  approach,  though  he  did  not  move  to  close  the  distance  himself.  it  was  not  avoidance  —  merely  the  quiet  stillness  of  someone  accustomed  to  holding  ground  rather  than  shifting  it.

the  compliment  did  not  go  unnoticed.

most  men  would  have  answered  it  quickly.  with  pride,  or  denial,  or  some  polished  modesty  learned  at  court.

aren  did  none  of  those.

his  gaze  rested  on  nosherwan  for  a  moment  longer,  measuring  the  words  behind  the  words.

“i  do  what  the  position  requires,”  he  said  simply.

not  false  humility. not  dismissal.

just  fact.

a  faint  pause  followed,  then  the  slightest  tilt  of  his  head.  “and  i  suspect  you  would  not  keep  a  man  at  the  king’s  side  if  he  brought  little  to  the  table.”  though  he  couldn't  deny  that  one  thing  clung  to  him  more  than  anything  else  could  have  in  that  moment. 

recognition.

“hidden,”  aren  repeated  quietly,  as  though  weighing  the  word.  his  gaze  flicked  once  toward  the  rocks  surrounding  them,  the  narrow  path,  the  quiet  water  beyond.  a  habit.  confirming  what  he  likely  already  knew.  then  his  attention  returned  to  nosherwan.  when  the  question  finally  came,  aren  did  not  answer  immediately.

his  pause  was  deliberate.

the  princes.

it  was  not  a  small  subject  to  raise  in  the  middle  of  the  desert,  even  in  a  place  meant  for  solitude.  his  hand  rested  briefly  against  the  hilt  at  his  side  —  not  out  of  tension,  but  familiarity,  before  falling  away  again.

“ready,”  he  said  after  a  moment,  voice  even,  “is  a  dangerous  word.”  the  corner  of  his  mouth  curved  faintly,  though  it  held  little  humor.  “most  men  who  claim  to  be  ready  for  a  throne  are  the  ones  who  should  be  kept  farthest  from  it.”

his  eyes  remained  steady  on  nosh  now,  gauging  the  man’s  reaction  as  much  as  answering  him.  “they  are  capable,”  aren  continued  after  a  brief  pause.  “they  learn  quickly.  they  listen  more  than  many  men  twice  their  age.”

that  alone  was  not  praise  he  gave  lightly.  “but  a  kingdom  is  not  inherited  the  moment  a  sword  is  held  correctly.”  his  gaze  softened  just  slightly,  thoughtful  rather  than  guarded  now.  he  ..knew  very  well  how  that  went. 

“they  will  be  ready,”  he  said  calmly.  “when  the  time  demands  it.”  personally,  he  didn't  see  that  to  be  any  time  soon.  though  he  knew  time  was  fleeting  at  best.

a  small  pause.

then  his  brow  lifted  again,  echoing  the  earlier  tension  between  them.  “an  interesting  question  to  ask  away  from  the  palace.”

not  accusation. not  quite  curiosity.

something  in  between.

“should  i  assume  the  hand  of  the  king  is  asking  as  a  mentor…  or  as  a  man  measuring  the  future?”

the  lord  commander's  demeanor  always  intrigued  him.  lysain  members  were  used  to  slipping  into  the  shadows  and  going  to  go  unnoticed.  aren  always  stood  his  ground  firmly.   

it  was  a  good  trait  to  have.   

some  people  were  probably  envious  of  him  and  nosherwan  could  easily  see  why.   

he  was  his  own  man. 

others  would  have  changed  themselves  time  and  time  again  to  fit  a  new  mold.   

“and  you  do  it  well.”  the  compliment  wasn't  empty. 

it  was  just  a  matter-of-fact. 

an  obervation.   

a  glimmer  flashed  in  his  eyes.  an  unspoken  challenge.  “you're  right.  i  wouldn't.  which  speaks  volumes  to  all  of  us  that  are  still  on  the  council.”  if  he  was  no  longer  a  fit  himself,  nosherwan  would  see  his  way  out. 

they  all  fit  their  roles. 

the  repitition  did  not  gain  a  response  from  him.  at  least  not  a  verbal  one.  instead,  he  tucked  his  hands  behind  himself  and  looked  around  the  area.  it  was  hidden.  most  would  have  missed  it  if  they  didn't  know  what  they  were  looking  for.  which  again,  brought  him  back  to  how  aren  had  found  him  there. 

they  were  meant  to  be  there.   

to  talk  business  away  from  the  palace. 

he  was  sure  that  not  even  the  master  of  whispers  would  have  been  made  aware  of  this  conversation.  which  was  a  good  thing.  he  didn't  want  to  be  labeled  as  a  traitor,  asking  about  the  crown  and  heirs. 

a  keen  observation.  one  that  nosherwan  couldn't  exactly  fight  in  any  way.  so  he  just  nodded  slightly.  “while  dangerous,  it  was  the  best  that  i  could  pick  for  the  information  that  i  need  right  now.”   

his  body  was  no  longer  moving  too  much.  he  was  standing  proud  and  tall,  but  his  eyes  were  glued  on  the  commander.  “that's  good  to  hear.  i  always  did  think  that  they  were  quick  studies.  even  in  politics.” 

which  didn't  always  translate  to  the  battlefield,  so  he  was  glad  to  see  that  this  time  it  did.  “it  is  not,  but  that's  why  there's  a  whole  small  council  preparing  them.”  he  was  handling  the  political  aspects. 

“i  hope  time  doesn't  demand  it  too  soon.  it's  one  thing  to  rule,  it's  another  to  defend.”  hopefully  the  peace  would  still  live  for  another  hundred  years  and  beyond. 

a  chuckle  crawled  out  from  his  throat.   

the  question  was  interesting.  especially  with  no  one  else  around.  “prying  ears  lead  to  gossip.” 

which  he  couldn't  have. 

this  stayed  between  them. 

“mainly  as  a  mentor,  but  both.  i  need  to  make  sure  lysain  is  in  good  hands,  whatever  happens.” 

darius  fell  into  step  beside  him,  the  faint  clink  of  his  armor  marking  each  motion  along  the  stone  corridor.  already,  his  mind  was  caught  in  the  contrast:  vissai  carried  itself  like  a  roar,  impossible  to  ignore,  strength  and  power  laid  bare  for  all  to  see.  lysain,  by  contrast,  was  quiet  in  its  precision,  its  influence  slipping  almost  unseen  beneath  the  surface.  and  nosh  —  nosh  moved  as  if  he  embodied  that  very  subtlety,  measured  and  exact,  each  motion  deliberate  without  drawing  unnecessary  attention.  darius  found  himself  observing  more  than  he  intended,  the  lines  of  the  man,  the  way  the  ghost  of  a  grin  tugged  at  his  mouth,  the  careful  ease  in  his  posture.

“the  honor,”  he  said,  voice  low,  smooth,  and  calm,  “is  mine,  truly.  and  i  suspect  it  would  be  difficult  to  find  a  companion  less  predictable  than  the  hand  of  lysain.”

he  let  the  words  hang  for  a  moment,  letting  the  silence  stretch  just  enough  for  thought  to  follow  them.  no  rush,  no  need  to  fill  the  space  with  hollow  conversation;  the  rhythm  of  their  steps,  the  echo  along  the  corridor,  the  faint  warmth  of  the  sunlight  spilling  through  small  windows,  all  provided  a  balance  he  rarely  permitted  himself.

his  eyes  flicked  again  to  nosh,  sharper  now,  taking  in  the  quiet  confidence  in  his  posture,  the  way  he  carried  himself  like  every  motion  had  purpose.  the  thought  came  unbidden:  the  man  was  handsome,  striking  in  a  manner  that  was  deliberate  but  not  showy,  and  it  drew  attention  even  as  it  demanded  none.

“it  is  an  honor,”  darius  said,  voice  low,  controlled,  smooth  against  the  corridor’s  stone.  “and  i  would  be  foolish  not  to  admit  that  i  am  curious  —  about  the  future,  about  what  one  carries  even  when  it  is  not  entirely  theirs  to  bear.  some  prepare  with  words,  others  with  action…  both  can  be  instructive.”

a  pause  fell  between  them,  the  echo  of  their  steps  filling  the  space.  darius’s  eyes  flicked  subtly  toward  nosh,  noting  the  quiet  assurance,  the  careful  charm,  and  the  way  the  man  seemed  to  command  attention  without  demanding  it.

“though  we  need  not  speak  of  the  same  things,”  he  added,  tone  softening,  letting  the  words  flow  naturally,  “i  suspect  there  is  much  to  learn  from  differing  approaches.  and  perhaps,  in  that,  there  is  a  kind  of…  unexpected  honor.”

he  inclined  his  head  slightly,  gesturing  toward  a  wider  chamber  that  opened  off  the  corridor.  sunlight  spilled  across  the  stone  floor,  softening  the  air,  offering  space  for  conversation  without  expectation.  “if  it  pleases  you,”  he  continued,  almost  casually,  “we  might  walk  there.  and  i  would  be  interested  to  hear  what  topics  you  prefer…  when  the  politics  are  done  and  only  conversation  remains.”

there  were  some  people  that  seemed  to  pay  attention  more  than  others.  that  was  one  of  the  reasons  why  he  knew  that  darius  would  make  a  great  king,  when  the  time  came.  he  seemed  to  know  exactly  what  was  going  on  around  him  and  where.  for  someone  that  wasn't  used  to  have  eyes  on  him,  nosherwan  would  be  the  first  to  admit  that  he  felt  the  crown's  eyes  on  him  a  couple  of  times.  gaze  lingering  longer  than  it  should  have.  so  he  wasn't  surprised  that  the  man  had  said  something  insightful.  almost  as  if  he  had  been  studying  the  older  man.  a  part  of  him  felt  flattered.  another  part  felt  like  he  should  be  on  guard. 

“thank  you.  your  words  do  not  fall  on  deaf  ears  and  they  were  quite  the  compliment.”  this  time,  he  actually  grinned.  “but  they  favor  me  too  much.”

his  steps  slowed  down  whenever  they  passed  by  a  window.  there  wasn't  a  lack  of  sun  this  high  up  in  the  mountains,  but  when  they  were  indoors  it  wasn't  always  easy  to  feel  that  warmth.  his  skin  tingled  whenever  he  felt  that  familiar  embrace.  the  kingdoms  were  so  differently  from  one  another. 

at  least  the  warmth  was  able  to  soothe  him  in  between  steps.  make  sure  that  he  took  it  easy  and  didn't  rush  off  anywhere.  he  looked  at  their  feet  first,  making  sure  to  match  darius'  pace.  then,  he  tilted  his  chin  up  so  that  he  could  look  at  the  eldest  prince  of  vissai.  a  powerful  title  to  hold.

“do  you  favor  those  that  prepare  with  words  or  is  action  more  of  your  go  to?  or  are  you  among  those  that  lay  somewhere  in  the  middle?”  his  ears  seemed  to  perk  up  as  he  asked  the  question.  he  genuinely  wanted  to  know. 

if  people  were  going  to  assume  things  of  one  another,  then  they  might  as  well  try  to  actually  get  to  know  them.  that  was  something  that  he  was  trying  to  do.  read  darius.  understand  him.

“i  often  believe  that  honor  comes  not  with  a  man's  words,  but  his  own  perception.  you,  for  example,  seem  to  be  one  with  high  honor.  it  follows  you  around.”  another  quiet  observation.   

once  he  saw  the  sunlight  pooling  in  the  room,  nosherwan's  feet  seemed  to  do  the  talking  for  him.  he  stepped  into  the  corridor  without  thinking  too  much  of  it.  “you'll  find  that  it  pleases  me  very  much.”  the  grin  only  grew  warmer,  eyes  almost  glowing  under  the  sun.  “do  tell,  what  topics  interests  you  outside  of  the  political  conversations  around  the  round  table?” 

the  stone  came  up  faster  than  darius  expected.

one  moment  he  had  been  standing  with  his  blade  still  angled  from  the  winning  strike,  the  next  his  balance  was  taken  out  from  under  him  —  fabianus’  leg  sliding  behind  his,  the  push  sudden  and  heavy  enough  that  the  world  tilted  sharply.  his  back  met  the  courtyard  ground  of  regia  ignis  with  a  dull  impact  that  rattled  through  his  ribs.

for  a  split  second,  surprise  was  all  there  was.

they  had  sparred  a  hundred  times  like  this.  pushed,  taunted,  knocked  one  another  around.  but  not—  this.  then  fabianus’  hand  closed  around  his  throat.

darius  went  still.

his  first  instinct  was  to  react  —  to  twist,  to  shove  him  off,  to  regain  control  of  the  situation  the  way  he  always  did.  the  training  was  there,  coiled  and  ready  in  his  muscles.  but  something  else  rose  first.  the  realization  that  his  brother  was  actually  angry.

not  the  usual  competitive  irritation,  not  the  loud,  fleeting  temper  fabianus  often  carried  with  him  like  a  storm  passing  through.  this  was  different.  tighter.  uglier.  it  flickered  through  darius  in  a  quiet,  uncomfortable  way.  his  heart  had  jumped  from  the  fall,  and  it  had  not  quite  settled  yet.

he  did  not  struggle.

instead,  he  looked  up  at  him.

really  looked.

fabianus  was  panting,  shoulders  tense,  fingers  heavy  against  his  throat  —  not  crushing,  but  not  gentle  either.  the  heat  of  it,  the  closeness,  the  sharp  edge  of  pride  wounded  in  front  of  witnesses…  darius  understood  it  more  than  he  let  himself  show.

the  words  came  quickly.  you  got  lucky.

a  lie  followed  about  pyraxis.

darius  almost  smiled  at  that.

almost.

his  hand  lifted  slowly,  deliberately,  until  his  fingers  rested  around  fabianus’  wrist.  not  pulling.  not  challenging.  simply  there.

steady.

for  a  moment,  darius  said  nothing.

his  expression  settled  back  into  something  calm  again,  though  the  flicker  of  surprise  had  not  fully  left  his  eyes,  breath  heavier  than  before.  “luck,”  he  repeated  quietly.  the  faintest  hint  of  a  smile  returned  —  smaller  now,  less  teasing  than  before,  but  still  unmistakably  there.  “that  is  a  comforting  word.”  his  gaze  stayed  on  fabianus’,  steady  and  unhurried.  “people  use  it  when  they  would  rather  not  admit  what  actually  happened.”

his  fingers  tightened  just  slightly  against  his  brother’s  wrist  —  not  enough  to  challenge  him,  only  enough  to  remind  him  that  darius  was  still  very  present  in  the  moment.

“i  did  not  win  because  of  luck,  fabianus.”

a  brief  pause.

“i  won  because  you  left  an  opening.”

another  heartbeat  passed  before  he  added,  softer  but  no  less  certain, 

“and  i  took  it.”

had  he  lost?  yes,  but  this  wasn't  over. 

fabianus  was  always  looking  for  an  opportunity  to  strike  darius.  even  if  he  wasn't  going  to  have  the  pride  to  say  that  he  bested  him  during  their  training,  he  could  get  the  upper  hand  afterwards.  that's  why  he  tried  his  best  to  trip  the  crown  and  knock  him  on  the  ground.  a  moment  of  surprise  was  all  that  he  needed.

he  didn't  care  if  he  was  playing  dirty.

nothing  that  he  did  was  fair  recently.  he  started  to  use  tricks  that  could  help  him  best  others  and  give  him  the  upper  hand.

the  hand  around  his  throat  was  just  for  revenge.

all  he  could  see  in  that  moment  was  red.  darius  had  shown  everyone  why  he  was  the  crown  in  that  spar.  they  would  probably  talk  about  how  what  the  spare  did  the  best  wasn't  even  good  enough. 

he  wasn't  second  best,  always.  so  he  needed  to  ensure  that  he  still  could  have  the  upper  hand.  that  if  nothing  else,  his  raw  strength  would  come  out  when  he  was  truly  angry.  it  was  a  dangerous  thing,  really.  how  in  a  split  second,  he  could  lose  all  sense  of  control. 

still,  he  did  not  care. 

this  wasn't  a  competition  anymore.

this  was  life  or  death. 

his  reputation  was  on  the  line.  even  if  darius  died  before  he  sired  children  and  their  father  was  no  longer  around,  people  would  still  need  to  respect  fabianus  enough  to  follow  him.  that's  what  made  him  angry. 

he  wasn't  the  poster  boy  for  vissai. 

which  only  left  his  brute  force  to  take  over. 

the  fingers  on  his  wrist  did  it  for  him.   

somehow,  that  angered  him  more.

how  darius  seemed  to  be  calm,  even  in  that  moment.  if  fabianus  wanted  to,  he  could  choke  even  harder.

could.

did  his  brother  not  fear  him?

the  truth  dished  out  to  him  like  that  did  not  help  the  situation  either.  anger  continued  to  fester  inside  of  him.  he  lowered  his  body,  putting  more  wait  on  the  eldest  skywarden  heir.  his  fingers  wiggled  before  they  stretched  out  and  tightened  again  around  his  throat.  he  wasn't  letting  him  go.  “i  never  denied  that  you  were  the  victor.  even  if  you  lost  your  guard  afterwards.”  which  he  would  never  have  done.  right? 

still,  as  anger  filled  his  eyes,  there  was  something  else.  jealousy,  perhaps?  he  couldn't  describe  it  himself. 

“you  are  not  stronger  than  me.  let  that  be  ” 

his  chest  continued  to  catch  his  own  breathing. 

“that  won't  happen  again.” 

he  learned  from  his  mistakes. 

“that's  the  last  time  you'll  win.” 

aren  listened  without  interrupting,  which  in  itself  was  a  habit  that  had  unsettled  more  than  one  courtier  over  the  years.  many  men  filled  silence  too  quickly.  he  preferred  to  see  what  a  person  chose  to  reveal  when  given  the  space.

nosherwan  revealed  quite  a  bit.

the  offer  of  help. the  hospitality. the  curiosity.

and  the  quiet  challenge  beneath  it.

aren’s  gaze  remained  steady  on  him  as  the  changeling  moved  along  the  ledge,  the  pale  stone  catching  the  sun  behind  him.  there  was  something  deliberate  in  the  way  the  man  carried  himself  —  not  just  comfortable,  but  aware.  of  being  watched.  of  what  that  did  to  people.

aren  noticed  things  like  that.  it  was,  after  all,  part  of  how  one  survived  command.  when  nosh  finished  speaking,  a  quiet  breath  of  amusement  escaped  through  aren’s  nose.  not  quite  a  laugh.  “away  from  prying  ears,”  he  repeated,  voice  thoughtful.

his  hand  rose  briefly  to  the  edge  of  the  fur  at  his  throat,  fingers  adjusting  it  almost  absentmindedly  before  dropping  again.  a  practiced  motion.  “that  would  imply  i  am  someone  worth  ambushing  in  the  middle  of  the  desert.”  the  corner  of  his  mouth  tilted  faintly.  “i  should  be  flattered.”

he  shifted  his  weight  slightly,  armor  giving  that  quiet,  familiar  sound  again  as  he  settled  more  comfortably  near  the  pool’s  edge.  the  sun  caught  along  the  bronze  plates,  but  the  shade  from  the  rocks  softened  it.

“as  for  how  i  found  it,”  aren  continued,  glancing  briefly  toward  the  narrow  path  behind  him,  “a  good  sense  of  direction  helps.”  his  eyes  returned  to  nosh.  steady.  measuring.  not  unkind.

“though  i  suspect  that  is  not  the  answer  you  were  hoping  for.”  a  small  pause  followed  —  long  enough  that  the  water  beside  them  settled  into  quiet  again.

“so,”  aren  said  at  last,  voice  calm,  “if  this  was  not  chance…”

his  brow  lifted  slightly.

“what  conversation  could  the  hand  of  the  king  possibly  hoping  to  have  with  me?”

while  nosherwan  on  the  surface  was  welcoming  of  everyone,  there  was  something  under  the  surface  that  was  challenging.  he  couldn't  trust  everyone.  that  was  the  case  because  he  wasn't  always  trustworthy.   

on  some  levels,  he  was  a  snake.

on  others,  he  was  a  pair  of  open  arms.

people  picked  which  one  they  would  get  by  their  actions.

aren  was  lucky.  he  never  gave  him  any  reason  to  question  him.  even  his  loyalty,  which  was  rare  to  say  for  someone  that  was  from  another  kingdom.  somehow,  he  had  gained  the  hand's  favor  throughout  the  years.

maybe  it  was  because  he  acknowledged  how  observant  the  other  was.  a  trait  that  was  good  in  the  small  council.  one  that  would  keep  them  all  alive.  “they're  all  hidden.”  the  prying  ears,  that  was. 

a  part  of  him  realized  that  he  sounded  quite  paranoid,  but  it  was  necessary  as  the  right  hand  to  the  king.  he  stayed  on  his  side  of  the  roof,  not  reaching  out  to  help  yet.  “you  should  and  you  are.”  a  simple  and  quick  nod  from  his  side.  “you  bring  a  lot  to  the  table  and  you're  a  killer  on  the  battlefield.”

even  though  he  wasn't  a  changeling,  the  sun  caught  him  the  same  way.  the  armor  was  good  for  that.  which  always  intrigued  nosherwan.  could  he  manipulate  the  rays  around  it  somehow? 

“remind  me  of  that  when  i  need  to  find  someone.”  not  all  had  that  trait.  “i'm  sure  it's  led  you  to  some  good  places.”  both  private  and  open. 

“as  long  as  it's  the  truth,  who  am  i  to  question  your  answer?”  brows  pushed  up  together  as  he  asked  his  own  question. 

“i  would  think  that  you  already  knew.”  no  judgment  from  his  end,  though. 

instead,  he  just  slowly  stepped  closer. 

“the  princes'  training.  do  you  think  they  are  ready  to  take  over  for  the  king?”