#reference: plot

Rhiannon wakes Patton, tells him to get Thomas.

The adult drakes are taken by a mass frenzy as their riders are killed--usually if a rider dies, the other drakes will support the one whose bond has been broken, but when it happens to multiple drakes at a time, their grief intensifies the others’ due to their extreme empathy with each other. One of the reasons riders and drakes are not usually killed in battle.

Roman and Patton’s rooms are across the hall or in the same tower as Logan and Virgil’s--they’re left alone by order of Roman’s father.

This lets them escape more easily, Patton gets to Thomas--Rhiannon may have overridden him enough to get him moving toward the Den? He was there the night before anyway? Something. The castle and the Den aren’t the same place, so I need Thomas to be close enough to escape with them.

The drakes are housed close to the trainee barracks, they manage to get to them, but someone sees them escaping and attacks.

Logan falls, and a soldier draws a spear, but Roman jumps in, defends him, yells at him to get the hell out of here, go get Kavi and Aisling and go, get them out of here! and Logan does and Aisling is already straining to get past him, to get to Roman! and Logan tells her to wait and sneaks back and finds Roman sprawled on the ground, bleeding from a wound (somewhere), passed out from the smoke heavy in the air

Logan binds Roman’s wound quickly and struggles to pull him back and that's when Virgil and Patton show up dragging Thomas, and they help Logan lash Roman to Aisling's back

and they all climb atop their drakes and flee into the night, leaving the fire and the chaos behind

except as they're leaving, an arrow whistles out of the darkness, and even though Patton and Teren bank, the arrow slices through the delicate membrane on Teren’s wing, and they cry out and fall into a hard dive

Patton is coaching them through the pain, trying to get them to the ground safely, and Logan tells them to land as safe as they can, then tells Virgil to follow them, he’ll get Roman to safety.

Meanwhile Teren is able, with Caru's help, to glide a good distance from the castle, putting him far away from the horrible chaos, but he finally lands, crumpled in a heap, and his wing is going to need time to heal before he can fly again

Patton is able to bind the wound and do his best to help Teren and Teren will recover, but won't be able to fly for a bit.

And Patton won't leave him, obviously

So Patton tells Virgil to go ahead, find the others, they'd catch up, but Virgil’s like yeah no

And Caru won’t leave Virgil, and Virgil points out Thomas is responding best to Patton and Caru can't carry two anyway, so they all need to stay together

They set up camp and hide and the next morning Kavi shows up with news of the others' location (she can tell the other drakes where they are and show them the route from the air, so they can find it from the ground)

Patton gives her further instructions to pass on to Logan about how to care for Roman and then Kavi wings back to her rider and Patton and Virgil and Thomas and Dragons begin their several-day trek to the cave. 

Meanwhile Logan is there with an unconscious Roman and his huge worried drake (bc Aisling is probably already huge) and Kavi and some basic knowledge of healing from reading books, and Patton's instructions as translated by an injured Teren to Kavi

and so Logan is MASSIVELY GUILTY, but also gets a chance to prove to himself he can do more than he thinks he can. because he has to take care of Roman. and Roman's going to be proud of him for doing it

and Roman will probably be doing a little better but not perfect before the others get there, but like...the first time he tries to just get up and take care of something? Kavi is going to be all "DON'T YOU DARE! Logan needs this, sit down and take it easy and stop hurting yourself."

Because Kavi is just as frustrated with Logan as Roman, she's just being more sneaky about it

And Logan already feels SO GUILTY about being the reason Roman got hurt

Whereas Roman's like "all in the line of duty, but if it will get you to change your stubborn mind then fine, I will accept your apology"

Roman doesn't want to let anything happen to Logan

he likes him

like LIKE likes him

but he knows Logan hates him, so he can't let him know that

so it has to be duty, because love is too dangerous

Basically they're both going to be so extra about it

Until some kind of confession is forced

Picture them pressing their brows together:

the image is Roman lying back but propped up, Logan bent over him, their brows pressed together, Logan with tears squeezing out from between his lids, Roman cupping the back of Logan's head running his fingers through his hair, murmuring, "Darling, my darling, shhh, it's all right."

And Virgil will be very surprised when he and Patton get there and Logan and Roman are curled up together?.

"Oh Gods, they killed each other..."

But nope, they just finally realized they were driving each other crazy because of attraction

So then they spend the winter in the cave, Roman healing, the others planning. Thomas gradually comes out of his stupor--and he can hear Rhiannon enough to know she’s alive and safe, but she’s drugged and out of it

Somehow they make contact with the other drakes in the wilderness, who’d flown off when their riders were killed. One of them shows up at the cave, or they run into one while hunting in the area or something.

Thomas gives the drake instructions, all the riderless drakes start to gather, to train. Virgil and Caru fly a few spy missions.

By this point, they know the capital is being held by centaurs and other troops, and that apparently the king is either dead or imprisoned--and there’s no word of his dragon.

Thomas plans with the others for an assault to take back the castle.

They manage to do so, and find out when they do who is behind the attack.

It's Roman's father, who has never gotten over the fact Roman didn't get chosen by Rhiannon to be the next king. Thomas was a target of the coup, but the other four would've been spared, as Roman's father had forbidden anyone assaulting their rooms in case Roman was accidentally injured.

His plan was to kill Thomas and use the magic/drugs/whatever it is he's given Rhiannon to force her to chose Roman as a substitute and give him legitimacy in taking over the throne, with his father as regent.

This wouldn't have worked, but the whole kingdom has been thrown into uproar anyway, so Roman's father's not too mad about it--but he has been frantic trying to find his son.

In the confrontation, Roman tries to tell his father this isn't what he would've wanted, that Thomas is his prince, his king, that he refuses to be a part of this

His father basically tells him he'll learn to be grateful for it, uses whatever control it is he has over Rhiannon or whoever's holding her to incapacitate Thomas and orders his guards to take Roman

The others try to stop them, but something prevents them--Rhiannon giving an order to their dragons against her will? just too many in the room to fight through? don't know yet

At some point here, there should be Logan making eye contact with Roman while Roman’s being kidnapped and Roman can yell, “Get out of here!” or something noble. 

Virgil probably also finds out he’s Roman’s brother about this time, and now his brother's in their father's hands and at his mercy, as is Thomas, who Virgil's come to love

So then Logan, Virgil and Patton have to go save Roman and Thomas and Rhiannon and confront Roman’s father

And they do, and everything is great, all the right people kiss and fly off into the sunset and live happily ever after

Logan scowled, and gripped his crutches tighter. “Of course. Sir.”

“Good.” The sarcasm was either lost on Roman or he was pointedly ignoring it, because he began to move down the stairwell again. Logan refocused his efforts, blocking out the distant screams, and instead focusing only on the familiar feel of the uneven stairs below his crutches.

As they descended, the smoke grew thinner, but the screams grew louder, courtesy, no doubt, of the large open wall of the drakes’ cavern. The sounds from the battle below were now drifting up as well, and Logan swallowed, heart thrumming anxiously in his chest. Even if they escaped, what was happening out there? The barracks and the riders’ dens were supposed to be impenetrable, high in the mountains, settled into the caldera of an extinct volcano and surrounded by sheer cliffs on all sides, only accessible by one road. And that road was guarded at its base by an entire castle, under which lived a Sovereign dragon. For anyone to have gotten up here, they would have had to--

Logan’s heart dropped, and he closed his eyes briefly. For anyone to have infiltrated, they would have had to be someone the king trusted--someone everyone thought was supposed to be there.

Which meant they had traitors in their midst.

This wasn’t just an invasion by some foreign power--this was a coup.

Logan shook his head, forcing the thought away. It was important, yes, but right now, the more important thing was getting to Kavi and getting the hell out of there. They’d regroup and figure out what to do next once they were all safe.

He reached out with his mind, and Kavi responded immediately. There was relief in her voice, but it was tempered by fear and horror.

(Logan!) She said. (They’re killing the riders, they’re killing them, Logan!)

(I know.) He sent a wave of reassurance to the young drake he loved with all his being. (I know, Kavi, but don’t worry. I’m safe. Roman’s with me, and we’re almost to you.)

Kavi didn’t reply in words but he felt the hope and relief across their bond, and smiled slightly.

They reached the bottom of the stairs at last. Though he’d traveled up and down the hated things every day for the last year since the drakes had moved to the yearling cave, they’d never, ever felt so interminably long as they did that night. But after a short eternity, the floor beneath his crutches finally evened out, and the darkness gave way to the faint glow of the lit torches in the cavern beyond.

The light would have been better, he realized with sudden, desperate fondness, except that two bulky young drakes were crowding around the entrance, their snouts poking in through the doorway and their eyes glittering in the darkness. Aisling and Kavi.

Logan smiled, and even Roman chuckled softly. “We’re all right, dear ones,” he said softly, sheathing his sword at last. “But you’ll have to move now so we can get by.”

Aisling snorted, and Kavi made a whining noise of reluctance, but the two drakes obediently shuffled backward, flooding the small space at the base of the stairwell with light. Beyond them, Logan saw Teren and Caru, the smaller drakes already fitted with their riding gear and shifting nervously but looking attentive and ready for action. He grinned in spite of everything. They were gonna get out. They were really going to make it out of there.

What happened next happened so fast that Logan didn’t really register it at the time, though later, he would replay it in painstakingly slow detail, finding all the moments he might have stopped it.

But he didn’t stop it. And he’d have time to think about that later, too.

Roman was smiling as the drakes moved out of the small, human-sized doorway, and the light from the cavern beyond flooded into their little room, the small space between the base of the stairs and the doorway that opened to the cavern. Roman was smiling, as he turned, his face edged in the flickering glow from the light of the torches that lined the cavern’s wall. He was smiling--and then he wasn’t. Within the barest fraction of a second, his eyes went wide and alarmed, face drawing into a mask of shock and dismay.

And then Logan’s world turned upside-down.

A pair of hands--Roman’s hands--grabbed him by the arms, and yanked him forward, whirling them around so Roman’s back was to the stairwell they’d just descended. And then they were falling, Roman’s soft, pained grunt sounding very close to Logan’s ear as they stumbled and went sprawling in the cavern.

Logan had squeezed his eyes shut and braced himself for the impact, and thankfully, he retained enough presence of mind to tuck his chin against his chest, so though his back and shoulders slammed painfully into the hard floor, his head did not. As soon as they had landed, though, he opened his eyes, drawing a breath to demand what the hell Roman thought he was doing, lifting his hands to shove the prince aside.

He did neither of those things, because the moment he saw Roman’s face, he understood.

He barely even registered Aisling’s roar of rage, as she stretched her neck into the doorway they’d just fallen through, snapping her jaws in fury at the raider that had snuck down after them. His full attention was focused on Roman--on his face, hovering just a few inches above Logan’s own, shocked and confused.

“Logan,” Roman uttered, and Logan didn’t like the wet sound of the prince’s voice. “I…”

“Roman?” Logan breathed, eyes widening. Almost without conscious direction, his hands, which had gripped the prince’s shoulders as they fell, began to trail down his back, his side--and when his right hand encountered a large, growing patch of wet warmth, he had to choke back a cry of alarm.

Roman’s eyes rolled up and fluttered closed, his head dropping to Logan’s chest, and as Logan watched in horror, the prince slowly collapsed.

No. No, no, no!

Logan bit back the urge to scream. Distantly, he heard a man yelling, and felt a blast of heat--Aisling, using her fire, lighting the stairwell and roasting whomever was inside--but he was focused on Roman, and Roman alone.

Oh please, Roman, no.

He reached up with one badly shaking hand, and laid his fingers along the side of the prince’s throat, holding his breath. Please, please, please.

For a moment, he felt nothing.

But then, blessedly, it was there against his fingers, sluggish but strong: Roman’s pulse. He was alive. He was alive.

Oh thank the gods. Logan closed his eyes briefly, his hand flying up to cup Roman’s head for a moment, the other clutching the prince’s shoulder. Not dead. Not dead.

But close on the heels of that relieved thought was another, small and insidious:

Yet.

That spurred him into action. He had to get Roman out of here--had to get him help ,and fast. The prince was losing blood, and he wasn’t going to make it if Logan didn’t do something.

That was hindered somewhat, however, by the fact that Roman currently had him hopelessly pinned.

(Kavi!) He called in his mind. (Kavi, help me! I need to move him.)

His drake appeared in seconds, hovering over him, her eyes wide and fearful. (Logan,) she greeted, bending to briefly nuzzle his hair, then turning her attention to the wounded prince. She moved forward, nosing his shoulder, then reaching out with her paw, curling it over Roman’s prone body.

“Carefully,” Logan warned her, proud when his voice only cracked once. “He’s hurt.”

She snorted in understanding. Together, the two of them gently eased Roman to the side, and Logan squirmed out from beneath the limp figure. He pushed himself up and rolled over immediately, leaning over Roman to assess the extent of his injury--then bit back a cry, alarm and fury and grief clogging his throat.

The shaft of an arrow protruded from Roman’s left side, and around it, the prince’s doublet and shirt were dark and sticky with blood. Logan couldn’t tell how deeply the arrow had penetrated, though the tiny part of his mind that remained rational noted there was a fair amount of shaft visible--the thick leather of the riding doublet had stopped the worst of it.

Still, the wound was bad. Even Logan could see that. And Aisling had finished dispatching the archer responsible for it and was now lumbering over, shrieking in rage and grief at the sight of her rider brought down like this. Kavi was mewling pitifully, looking at her clanmate and her rider and responding to the fear she sensed from both of them. Teren and Caru were approaching as well, their eyes wide and terrified and confused as they looked from Logan to Roman to Aisling, who was beginning to wail, and Kavi, who was whimpering in fear.

Logan realized that he was moments from losing Aisling to panic--she would be wild with grief and completely out of reach of anyone, even her own clanmates.

He couldn’t let that happen. If they had any hope of saving Roman, he needed Aisling’s help.

He drew himself up and squared his shoulders, and deep inside him, something molten resolved itself into steel.

“Aisling,” he roared, and his voice was full of so much command that even he didn’t recognize it for a moment. But it worked: the near-frantic drake paused in her heaving cries and looked at him blearily, eyes half-wild.

“He’s not dead,” he said--unnecessarily, of course, because Aisling would be the first to know if he was, but hearing out loud helped calm him, too. “But he needs our help. You have to calm down. I need you. Roman needs you. Okay?”

Aisling blinked at him once, and for a long moment, he was worried he wouldn’t be able to get through to her. The cavern was frozen, unnaturally still, as the other three drakes stared at their largest sister, eyes wide and bodies trembling.

Then Aisling wilted a little. She snorted, and dipped her head in acknowledgment of Logan. Though bonded with Roman, she would, it seemed, obey orders from the other rider--at least when Roman’s life was on the line.

Good enough.

“Kavi,” Logan said. “I need you to help me. We have to get Roman onto Aisling’s back.”

Kavi chirped, and he felt her in his mind, too terrified to form words, but willing to listen to him, and to do what she needed to do.

Together, they eased Roman onto his right side, careful of the arrow shaft that protruded from the wound. Logan frowned at it, but knew better than to pull it out; with nothing to stem the flow of blood, and with the barbed arrowhead likely to do even more damage on its way out, Roman would bleed out in moments. Instead, he held the arrow tight at the base, closing his eyes when Roman moaned in pain, and Kavi took the shaft in her teeth and snapped it off as low as she could.

Then the pair of them eased Roman into a sitting position. Aisling brought her chest to the cavern floor, bringing her back as low to the ground as possible, but it took Kavi and Logan considerable effort to hoist the unconscious Roman onto his drake’s back.

Still, they managed, and Logan secured Roman in place carefully, strapping him in and buckling his harness. Once he was certain Roman was secure, he turned to Kavi, bracing himself against Aisling’s leg (he had dropped his crutches, and he couldn’t spare the time to fetch them).

“Listen,” he said softly to his drake, and she inched forward and placed her head in his outstretched hands. He stroked her muzzle gently and she whimpered up at him, frightened and trembling but alert.

“I have to ride Aisling,” he told her. “Roman can’t support himself. I have to make sure he’s safe. I need you to fly above and keep a lookout for us while we go get Patton and Virgil. Can you do that for me, sweetling?”

Kavi chirped and bumped her snout against his chest. He wrapped his arms around her large head and hugged her for just a moment.

Then he drew away. Roman needed help, and he needed it fast. There was no time to waste.

“Okay, Kavi,” he said softly. “Help me up?”

With his drake’s help, Logan managed to swing himself up onto Aisling’s broad back, and buckled himself in with the secondary harness. Then he drew Roman’s limp body, which had been draped forward over Aisling’s neck, back against his own chest, holding him close so he wouldn’t be jostled too much in flight. Roman’s head lolled back against his shoulder, his eyes closed and his face pale, and Logan swallowed hard, tightening his grip around the prince’s waist.

Hold on, Roman, he thought, half plea and half prayer. Please hold on. We need you.

“Okay,” he breathed, trying to ignore the terrified pounding of his heart. He looked at Kavi, then over at Caru and Teren, who had been watching them with fear in their eyes but who had thankfully known to stay out of the way. “Caru. Teren. Take us to the others.”

The two smaller drakes chirped at him, and bounded to the large open mouth of the cave, bracing themselves at its edge for a moment before springing into the air. Kavi followed, and Aisling lumbered behind her, her gait lolling and terrifying. Logan prayed he would be able to stay on her back, harness or no.

At the edge of the cliff, they paused, and Logan felt his heart catch in his throat.

The caldera was ablaze. Below them, he could see the entire compound, from the barracks by the lake to the training grounds, and it was all a complete riot of smoke and fire and shouting. Even from their height, he could hear the clash of swords and the cries of the wounded and the dying.

But worst of all was the shriek of the adult drakes whose riders had been murdered--the drakes whose bonds had been shattered, and whose grief was now spreading through the entire flight. Those drakes had thrown themselves into the air and were soaring high above the chaos, screaming their rage and sorrow into the moonless night.

They were in frenzy, Logan knew, and his heart filled with sorrow. They were in frenzy, and they would listen to no one, hear no reason. They would fly until they had exhausted themselves, then half glide, half crash to the ground, where they would lie, unmoving, for days, consumed by the pain of a shattered bond. They would survive--most of them--but they could not help Logan or the others now.

Logan closed his eyes and forced his thoughts away from the adult drakes. Right now, he had his own wing to attend to and a fallen shield brother to save. And, if he was right about the coup, Prince Thomas desperately needed their help. The fate of the kingdom could well rest on what Logan did next. He could not afford to hesitate.

He nodded to Kavi, sending a word of command through their bond, and she flung herself from the edge of the cliff, wings unfurling, following Teren and Caru into the night. And at his gentle urging, Aisling braced herself, then sprang into the air after her, her powerful wings beating at the smoke and sending them soaring above the smoldering caldera.

Logan shook his head sharply, though not before sending as much comfort and reassurance in her direction as he could, as the reality of the nightmare around them snapped into focus. He rose to his feet, unsteady, and grabbed his crutches, for once grateful he’d fallen asleep fully dressed and still wearing his braces.

“Patton,” he said. “Where’s Thomas?”

Patton whirled on him, lowering his hands from his ears. He was sobbing still, but made an admirable effort to pull himself together. His jaw firmed and he said, “He’s still in his quarters. Pongo woke me--I think Rhiannon sent him. I’m heading there now, but Teren--”

“We’ll get him,” Logan said immediately. “You go get Thomas. Virgil?”

“Packed,” Virgil reported, hurrying over with his bag, which he’d crammed with as many things as he could from their shared trunk. “It’ll have to be enough. I don’t think we have time to--”

Another scream, and Kavi was shrieking in his mind now, nearly out of her mind with terror. From the pained look on Virgil’s face, Logan knew he was getting the same thing from Caru, as was Patton from Teren.

“No, no, no, no,” Patton was sobbing again, staring wild-eyed toward the Dens. His body was trembling, and Logan realized suddenly that he was moments from abandoning his quest for Thomas in favor of barreling straight to his dragon.

“Listen to me,” Logan shouted, stepping forward and planting himself in Patton’s space. Patton gasped, but his eyes did flicker back to Logan’s, focusing again. “You have to drown them out,” Logan commanded. “They’re safe. Okay? Whoever it is--they’re not killing the drakes. They wouldn’t. Whoever they are, they have to know better. It’s not the dragons they’re after, it’s Thomas.”

Patton sobbed again, but once more visibly drew himself together. Logan looked at Virgil, who was staring wide-eyed from Patton to Logan, waiting for orders.

“Where’s Roman?” Logan demanded.

“He’s heading for the drakes,” Patton reported. “He--he said he’d meet--”

“Good enough.” Logan cut him off with a wave. “You need to get going. Go get Thomas. Virgil--go with him.”

“I’m not leaving you,” Virgil said with a frown, but his next protest was cut off when two shrieks of mournful rage rose in the air at once, sending bolts of agony through their hearts and minds. Logan gritted his teeth and didn’t even wait for the cacophony to fade; instead, he began shoving bodily at the other two, urging them at the open door. He paused there only long enough to take the bag from Virgil’s hands and sling it awkwardly over his own shoulder, bracing himself against the doorframe in order to do so.

“Go,” he snapped. “I’ll go find Roman and we’ll get the drakes. We’ll meet you in the woods behind the training dens. Okay?”

Patton hesitated for a moment. Logan growled and swatted at his calf with his crutch. “Go!” he snarled.

Patton went. Virgil hesitated for a split second, looking into Logan’s eyes, his own agonized. “Be careful,” he said wetly, and grabbed Logan in a brief but sincere hug.

Then he was gone too, his tall, lean form disappearing quickly into the darkness and gathering smoke.

Logan sighed, leaning against the wall for a moment longer, then turned and headed toward the training caverns.

*

The journey was nothing short of torturous. His legs, cramped from sleeping in an awkward position, were rebelling with every step, and his back ached. He scowled, furious with himself, but more furious to know what Roman would say, if he were here. The insufferable I told you so look would be fixed on his face, a lecture about caring for his body as much as he cared for his mind would follow. Logan found himself feeling quite certain Roman could manage a lecture even while they were under attack.

He also--and this was something he would never admit to anyone other than himself--realized he would gladly listen to every word of it, if it meant Roman were here with him now.

His worry for their leader surprised him a great deal. But as he crept through the smoke-tinged training barracks, he realized he was almost as worried for Roman as he was for Thomas and Kavi. Not quite, but...it was a close thing. The prince might drive him crazy most of the time, but he meant well, and…

And shit. They needed him. If they were to have even half a chance at making it out of here in one piece, they were going to need someone who could take charge--who knew what the hell they were doing.

He shook the thought off, and reached out to Kavi again as he paused to rest against the wall just north of the final stairwell--the one that would lead him down into the caverns where the dragons were. The screams of the other drakes had grown distant, and for that, he was thankful, though they still split the night with distressing regularity.

(Kavi,) he called to her in his mind. (Kavi! What’s going on?)

(Logan!) She responded immediately, and he felt a wave of love and fear and hope and terror wash through him all at once. It was a staggering mix, and he was glad he was braced against the wall when it hit him. (Logan! The bonds are shattering! Do you hear them? Do you hear them crying?)

(I do,) Logan said, though he knew it was little compared to what Kavi could hear, as the bond that stretched between all the drakes would give her a first-hand taste of the pain he could only hear in the terrible shrieking cries of the adults. (Kavi. Patton and Virgil went to get Thomas. Roman was supposed to be coming to you and the others. Is he there?)

(No,) she replied, and Logan felt a renewed spike of terror mingled with something close to grief--if Roman wasn’t there, then that could only mean--

But Kavi cut him off with her next thought. (He was here. He saddled us. Then he left.)

The grief and terror evaporated under an entirely new emotion: fury. (He LEFT you? Why on earth would he--)

“Oy! You!”

Logan gasped, eyes flying open as he spun from where he’d been leaning and felt his heart drop to his feet.

There was a man standing at the opposite end of the long corridor he’d just made his way painstakingly down, and he was holding a torch in one hand and a sword in the other. Logan couldn’t make out much of his features in the layer of smoke that obscured the distance between them, but he did see it when the man’s sword-bearing arm dropped to his side and he broke into a charge, heading for Logan with a cry of rage.

Logan barely had time to think. Time seemed to slow, and his limbs responded to his commands in slow motion as he tried to turn to face the threat head-on.

He knew, even as he did so, that he would not be fast enough. His mind calculated the distance between the man and himself, the speed he was running, and his own response time, and the result was clear.

He was going to die.

On one last impulsive, desperate attempt at self preservation, he let his legs buckle beneath him, ducking his head and dropping his crutches to bring his arms up over his neck. Maybe, if he could get them up fast enough, if he could duck beneath the blow, if he could--

“Yeeaaaaaaaaaargh!” The raider cried, and he heard the singing sound of steel hurtling through the air above him.

CLANG!

Logan jerked, startled, and his eyes flew open as the sound of metal-on-metal reverberated in the air scant inches above his head. He dared to peek upward through the cage of his arms, and he caught the silhouette of two swords locked together for a split second, before a grunt sounded above him, and the raider was shoved backward with the screech of steel sliding against steel.

Logan stared at the figure above him, but the stranger wasted no time: before the raider even had time to regain his footing, the figure was charging forward, sword held before him in an attack pose he remembered Roman demonstrating for them just the previous afternoon, when he’d been running them through those interminable exercises--when Logan had wanted nothing more than to be back in his room with his books and journals, or back in the den with Kavi, reading to the curious drake about whatever he was currently studying (astronomy, this afternoon it had been astronomy) and Roman had exploded, had snapped at him, had warned him of this very scenario, and Logan had scoffed, he’d--

The raider lifted his sword to meet the charge, but he was slow--stupid, or perhaps over-confident (he had been charging an unarmed cadet on crutches, that was enough to make anyone feel fairly good about his chances) and his parry was too slow by far. It did catch the initial charge, but the raider had no time for a counter-attack; instead, Logan’s savior whirled gracefully, side-stepping the man in a spin that left him behind the raider, whose back was now wholly exposed. As Logan watched, the newcomer thrust his sword with surgical precision into the man’s back, angling the blade up just under his ribcage.

The raider grunted in surprise, lurched and staggered for a second, then collapsed, as his opponent withdrew his sword and spun it with a flourish. He was nothing more than a silhouette in the flickering orange glow of the fires that backlit him and the smoke that surrounded him, but Logan knew that silhouette well.

His savior spent no time celebrating his victory. Instead, he approached, the sound of his boots thumping on on the wooden planks of the hallway, and held out a hand to Logan.

“Come on,” Roman said softly. After a moment’s hesitation, Logan slipped his hand into Roman’s calloused one, and let himself be pulled to his feet. Roman stooped and grabbed Logan’s crutches, and Logan braced himself for the lecture he knew was coming.

Instead, however, Roman merely handed Logan his crutches, and gave him a grim smile. “Let’s go get our drakes,” he said.

Hearing his deepest fears spoken, so baldly, so openly, twisted Logan’s stomach and made his mouth go dry. He’d known, known from the moment Kavi had picked him that it might come to that, he just hadn’t...he hadn’t expected to have it thrown so obviously in his face.

But he’d be damned if he gave Roman the satisfaction of seeing how deeply his words cut. “Of course it’s not,” Logan countered, struggling to keep his voice even, calm, even as he couldn’t quite meet Roman’s gaze. “And I fail to see how you intend to manage something no healer has managed in over a decade.”

“Oh for the love of...I’m not intending to heal your damn legs.” Roman dropped to an easy crouch in front of Logan, forcing him to look him in the face. “And I’m not so naive as to think a few bouts with me will work some miracle and have you throwing your crutches aside.”

“Then what…”

“There’s nothing wrong with your arms or your mind,” Roman said pointedly. “And your legs may never be strong enough to hold you on their own, but they could still no doubt be stronger than they are now. I don’t intend to turn you into a knight, Logan, but you need to learn to use what you’ve got to fight back.”

Logan swallowed, gritting his teeth. He’d spent most of the last ten years trying to ignore that he had a body at all...why did Roman have to insist on focusing on it? Why couldn’t Logan’s facility with strategy, his knowledge of dragon lore and rearing be enough?

Because all the lore and theory will be meaningless when you go to battle, his treacherous brain answered him mercilessly. Because you will go to battle, there are too many skirmishes on the borders, too much tension with the centaurs, too few dragons available to avoid it. Because at some point you are going to have to fight, and you can’t go into a fight without some way of defending yourself. Because you can’t guarantee Kavi can keep you on her back, and you have to be able to defend her if she can’t stay in the air. Because you might be caught off guard by assassins trying to put a dragon out of commission by killing her rider.

Because Roman is right, damn him.

The thoughts flashed through his mind one after the other and Logan raised his fingers up to pinch the bridge of his nose. This was ridiculous. He wouldn’t be able to fight, his father had said so often enough, after the fever. And where would that leave Kavi?

She shouldn’t have picked him.

Distantly, he could feel her sleepy indignation at his thoughts, and Logan forced them away. Kavi was growing so quickly, she needed her rest...and not to again listen to her rider doubting himself. Maybe she shouldn’t have imprinted on him, but he wasn’t going to make the choice harder on her than it had to be.

“Fine,” he conceded aloud, letting out a long breath. “You...you may have a point. But I still don’t see how admitting I’m a liability to the group is going to get us anywhere...or why you think it’s your duty to point it out.”

“My duty is to serve Aisling, Prince Thomas, and the crown,” Roman said, somehow making the rather pompous words sound almost noble. “It is not to feed into your delusion that you are incapable of learning to defend yourself. Good Gods, man, do you have any idea how many soldiers are wounded and learn to fight again?”

Logan felt his cheeks flush. “That’s not the same…”

“Like hell it isn’t,” Roman countered, pushing himself to his feet. “You are only a liability if you allow yourself to be. And I don’t intend to let that happen. You may be a stubborn ass, Logan of Coire Dubh, but so am I. I’ll see you here tomorrow to begin training.”

“Right, sorry.” Virgil shook himself and turned back, holding out a chunk of meat the size of his hand to Caru, who took it surprisingly delicately for as ravenous as Virgil could feel they were. The drake’s hunger pangs were twisting Virgil’s own stomach and he swallowed hard against them.

But then maybe it wasn’t just Caru’s hunger tying him in knots. Not when...when Caru had, apparently, actually imprinted on him. On him, a friendless bastard. A kitchen boy too old for his position, who’d been one wrong move from losing it and ending up on the streets.

A worthless peasant, with nothing to offer, who shouldn’t…

(Stop it!) Caru growled, taking Virgil’s hand in their mouth and shaking it sharply, though their teeth didn’t break the skin. (You’re mine and you’re wonderful and I love you.)

Virgil flushed. “You could’ve picked someone better,” he said in an undertone, glancing around to be sure none of the new riders around him had heard. They all seemed too busy feeding their own hatchlings to be paying any attention to him, but he couldn’t be sure. “Someone who deserves you. I’m gonna muck this all up…”

(You won’t.) Caru sounded very smug as they released Virgil’s hand to accept another hunk of meat. (And there’s no one better. No one else to pick. Had to be you. Because I love you.)

Virgil’s face flamed even hotter, but he couldn’t deny that--unworthy of it as he might be of their affection--the little dragon wasn’t lying. Not when Virgil could actually feel their emotions rising up in his own body. Which...Gods, that was weird. He’d heard about it, of course, everyone knew the drakes and their riders had a special bond, but...hearing about it and experiencing it were different things.

But it’d be lying not to admit he already felt the same. He knew he didn’t deserve Caru, but the idea of being separated from them...no. No, it was unthinkable. “I...I love you, too,” he admitted, reaching out with his free hand to gently stroke Caru’s eye-ridges. The baby drake’s eyes closed in pleasure and they leaned into the touch.

(Good. Can I have more to eat?)

“Yeah, yeah, of course.” Virgil chuckled softly.

Only when Caru had eaten all they could hold and curled up in a warm, heavy ball over Virgil’s lap did he really let himself look at the others. They, like him, had each been led to one of the low benches arranged facing the front of the hall. No one was there, now, but Virgil supposed the table set in front meant this room was used for some kind of training, usually. For now, the drakes were sprawled on the floor, stuffing themselves, and like he himself, most of the riders had ignored the benches and sat beside their new drakes.

He supposed he’d have to get to know all of them, now. They’d likely be learning to be dragonriders together as the baby drakes grew up...he’d be spending the next few years in close contact with the other six.

And they probably all already knew each other, if they’d been chosen by the Seekers. They’d have had time before the eggs hatched, maybe weeks, all spent getting to know each other, getting to know what was expected of them, preparing for this...and he’d been thrown in with no warning. Dammit. He was going to be the odd one out here, too.

Virgil sighed, stroking Caru’s back as the hatchling settled into a heavy sleep, their contentment thrumming through him. Well. Maybe he would be the odd one out among the riders. But he had Caru. That was one more ally than he’d had in the kitchens since his mother had died.

It still wasn’t enough to soothe his nerves completely.

“Hullo!”

Virgil just kept himself from jumping at the sudden genial greeting, and looked up to see a plump, round-faced boy about his own age plopping down beside him, a blue and white drake crawling into his lap as he settled. His clothing was well made, but not ornate, his hair a sandy blond cut in the short style currently fashionable at court, his smile open and cheerful.

Virgil nodded, his own shaggy, unevenly cut hair falling into his eyes. “Um…hello,” he offered, trying to force himself to relax when his immediate, wary reaction had Caru shifting uneasily in their sleep. Shit, he was not going to upset his hatchling.

“I’m Patton,” the boy said, rubbing his own hatchling’s belly as the drake stretched its limbs in all directions. “And this is Teren. Can you believe they picked us?”

“Uh...no,” Virgil admitted, looking down at Caru and feeling a soft smile spread across his face. At least he wasn’t the only one who couldn’t believe his luck. “No, I really can’t. Um. This is Caru. I’m Virgil.”

“Nice to meet you both,” Patton said, giggling softly as Teren sneezed. “Lucky you were watching from the stands, huh? They’d’ve had to go looking for you otherwise. But then I guess it’s true that everyone who’s supposed to imprint ends up being there. Or at least that’s the saying. Of course if it was always true, they wouldn’t have had to go looking for Thomas, would they? So maybe it’s not and it was lucky.”

“Maybe,” Virgil agreed, unable to hold back a slight smile. Patton’s lighthearted chatter was comforting, in a way, and at least he was talking to Virgil. It might not last long, but it was nice for now. “I mean...it was, I...I never really expected this.” Sure, he’d snuck out to every hatching he could, he’d dreamed of it ever since his mother had taken him to see the Sovereign egg when he’d been a little kid, since he’d actually touched it...but he wasn’t special, not like Prince Thomas. This wasn’t supposed to actually happen for him…

“Me either,” Patton said brightly. “But I’m super glad it did. Oh!” he jumped, suddenly, his eyes going wide. “You don’t know anyone yet! You weren’t here before! Do you want me to introduce you around? We’re all gonna be pretty close, since we’ll be training together.”

“That’d be...yeah, thanks,” Virgil said, glancing over at Patton, who had still had a wide, friendly smile on his open face. Maybe...maybe it wouldn’t be that bad. Maybe training would be okay. He had Caru, and now someone was actually talking to him...maybe things would be different here.

“Great!” Patton grinned, looking over their fellow riders, all gathered into the corner of the cavern, their hatchlings in various states of eating--or, like Caru and Teren--falling asleep after gorging. “Well...maybe actual introductions will have to wait, until they’re not so busy. But I can point everyone out at least. Let’s see. There’s me, of course, and then that over there--” he pointed to a tall, richly dressed youth with long, sun-streaked hair that reached his shoulders “--is Prince Roman of the Redmarches. He’s a lot of fun, once you get past all his stuffiness. You should hear him sing!”

Virgil examined the prince, frowning slightly. In his experience, no one with as much authority as a prince would be used to was fun...he’d have to watch himself with this Prince Roman. He was likely to be touchy about being forced into contact with a peasant.

“The two girls are Bryony and Kate. Katie’s shy and timid as a church-mouse, but Bryony makes up for her! She’s a trader’s daughter, while Katie’s father has a sheep farm outside the city,” Patton went on, pointing to a tall, dark skinned girl with close cropped black hair. Close beside her sat a plump and pale brunette, at least a head shorter than her companion. She looked like the peasant Patton had named her, in her layers of skirts and waist length braid, and while Bryony’s breeches and tunic were expertly cut, the fabric wasn’t even as fine as Patton’s. A trader and a shepherdess. At least Virgil wasn’t the only commoner.

“Then that’s Barony Jaylen, they’re very clever with words and love pranks, over there by themself.” This time Patton gestured to an enby with close cropped hair and an engaging smile, currently focused on their dragon. A bright blue drachling sat on one of their shoulders, it’s small head tilted to the side as it examined the blue and black hatchling in Jaylen’s lap. “And that just leaves Lord Logan of Coire Dubh,” he finished.

Virgil glanced over at the last of the riders and a start of recognition went through him. He recognized the slim, angular figure--the only rider actually sitting on a bench and not the ground--whose shock of dark hair fell over his eyes as he leaned forward to feed his drake with long, ink-stained fingers.

Virgil had more than once brought a late night meal from the kitchens to Lord Logan’s rooms near the scriptorum, and...yes. He saw the familiar pair of crutches leaning against the bench as well. He would’ve expected the clerk’s weak legs to keep him from imprinting, but obviously not. His drake seemed sure of her choice, at least, she was leaning against him, her face turned up to his.

Good. Virgil had always rather liked Logan--he was always perfectly polite, never demanded nearly as much as he could’ve, and had a sly, understated sense of humor Virgil appreciated. 

“--quiet, but he’s very smart,” Patton went on, and Virgil realized he’d been speaking the entire time, even as Virgil’d been distracted. “He already knew almost everything in the lessons we’ve had so far, and corrected Master Varnet a few times.”

Virgil snorted softly. “Bet that went over well.”

Patton laughed. “Well...Logan was right, as it turned out. So, now you know about all of us. What about you?”

Virgil rubbed the back of his neck, ducking his head. “Oh...uh. I’m supposed to be cleaning the castle’s breakfast dishes about now,” he admitted. “The head cook’s probably wondering where I’ve run off to.”

“Can I be there when you tell him?” Patton asked, laughing. “‘Oh, sorry I missed out on my duties, but I’m a dragonrider now, you know how it goes...’” He giggled again, smile softening as Teren curled up closer in his lap. “Bet he wouldn’t believe it.”

“Not sure I do,” Virgil admitted, as Caru began to snore, softly. “Patton...they…” He bit his lip. “They don’t ever...pick wrong, do they?”

“Nope,” Patton said firmly, with such confidence Virgil could almost believe him. “Never. Especially not if Caru had to hunt you down from the crowd.”

“I...I guess,” Virgil said, worrying at a bit of chapped skin on his bottom lip. “But...I don’t...I don’t know what to do for them.”

Patton shrugged. “That’s what all the lessons’ll be for. And Logan and I can help you catch up! He already knows everything, and my brother’s a rider, so I know a lot, too. Besides, right now we’ve just go to feed them and love them and watch them sleep. They won’t be big enough to ride for a couple years, Verge! You’ve got time to learn how.”

“Verge?” Virgil repeated, feeling the knots in his stomach finally start to loosen. Patton seemed so sure of himself, so matter-of-fact...maybe he was right. And if his brother was a rider...then surely he’d know?

“Yep,” Patton said, pushing himself up as Teren rolled over and off his legs. “It fits you. Now c’mon! Let’s go meet some of the others; we’ve got catching up to do!”

Virgil stood, gathering Caru into his arms, and followed Patton over toward the girls. He still wasn’t sure he belonged here, still wasn’t sure how they’d all react when they found out about him, but...but maybe as long as he had Caru, as long as he could learn enough, as long as Patton kept talking to him...maybe this would work. Maybe he could do this right.

Logan’s actually fairly lonely, but he wouldn’t admit it even silently to himself.

He keeps mostly to himself, so he’s incredibly surprised to be interrupted at his work one day by a leather and silk clad dragon rider, instantly recognizable by her clothing and windburned cheeks. He’s even more surprised when she identifies herself as a Seeker, and tells him he’s been chosen to be a candidate at the next hatching.

Despite his protests--to her, to Lord Kervan, to the Hatchling master--he finds himself being moved to the candidate quarters in anticipation of the Hatching.

The merchant’s son he’s rooming with completely agrees with Logan’s opinion that he shouldn’t be there, but at least doesn’t do anything worse than say so.

Logan thinks he’ll at least be able to take advantage of the sudden free time to get some reading done, but it turns out they have classes planned while they wait for the eggs to crack.

The classes are at least interesting, giving some history about the partnership between dragon and human--which Logan already knows, for the most part, but not in this much detail--and outlining what’s expected of dragon riders and what they do.

Considering how much of this seems to be the ability to fight, Logan’s even less sure why he’s there. No dragon is going to pick him...especially not with options like Prince Roman of the Redmarches, already a tourney champion at eighteen, Miss Varina, a blacksmith’s daughter acclaimed for her accuracy with a bow, or Barony Jaylen, who was perhaps not as skilled in combat, but was known for their wit and learning, and could still manage a small sword.

Logan continues to most keep to himself, though a lot of the other candidates seem to become friendly with each other. One, a round faced boy Logan assumes must be a commoner, since he hasn’t volunteered his lineage like most the nobles, seems determined to become friends with all of them.

Thankfully, the eggs start to show signs of hatching before the boy, Patton, has done much more than introduce himself. Logan does not want to be drawn into this group, not when he knows he’ll have to leave it again so quickly. There are only seven eggs, and nearly thirty candidates.

The candidates take in turns to stand watch until the all the hatchlings manage to make the first crack in their eggs. At that point word is sent out that hatching is imminent and Logan’s roused from his bed by Patton’s rough, excited shaking, the merchant’s son already gone.

Logan tells Patton to go on without him, strapping himself into his leg braces with shaking fingers. He should be glad. In a few hours this farce will finally be through, and he can go back to his work. He should be grateful, relieved...not feeling sick from anticipation.

By the time he gets to the hatching grounds, the others have already arrayed themselves in a loose semicircle around the eggs. Spectators are slowly filling the stands, many of them yawning. The Hatchings are always well attended, and this is the first of the year, but Logan thinks a few of the people settling themselves look as if they wish they’d been able to sleep longer.

Logan sinks down on the bench next to Patton, who gives him a bright, nervous smile. The eggs are all wobbling a bit, cracks growing on their dark surfaces, bits of shell falling to the ground here and there.

Suddenly, with a loud, indignant squawk, a large egg near the edge of the group splits in two, a brilliantly scarlet hatchling tumbling free from its confines. The little dragon squawks again, struggling to right itself, and a few of the candidates reach forward before remembering their lessons and pulling back. The dragon has to choose.

Finally, the little creature stands, flapping its stubby wings a few times, leathery skin and scales glistening from the wetness of the egg. The dragon looks over the group of them, squawk turning to a soft chirping cry.

Logan’s heart is in his throat, and he’s gripping his crutch handles tightly. The dragon isn’t for him, he knows that, but Gods...just for a moment he lets himself dream.

A moment in which the hatchling squeals suddenly, moving on shaking limbs toward the center of the group--and stopping right in front of Prince Roman. While it’s no surprise, Logan can’t stop the lump in his throat as Roman glances from side to side, then leans down, taking the hatchling in his arms, his voice full of wonder as he announces that she’s picked him, that her name is Aisling...and that she’s hungry. He chuckles as she wriggles close and presses her snout against his cheek, and for all his fastidiousness over the last week, he doesn’t seem to mind her mussing his expensive doublet.

Logan looks away as Roman murmurs to her, already moving toward the edge of the grounds where he’ll start his new life. Logan tugs off his spectacles, rubbing at his eyes, which have somehow started watering. No doubt due to the dusty earthen floor.

The next hatchling emerges only a few minutes later, an orange and white male that goes to a shy peasant girl whose name Logan can’t remember. She’s crying happily as she follows Roman off the grounds.

The five eggs left are rocking more, now, larger cracks appearing. Patton is vibrating with excitement beside Logan, babbling something Logan’s not able to concentrate on. Not when he feels even sicker, when his stomach is twisting and turning, when he desperately wishes he was anywhere else but here, here with the eyes of what feels like half the kingdom on him, here with his father no doubt in the stands, here where he’s going to fail. Again. This is worse than when he was five, when his legs were still strong, when he touched the Sovereign egg and nothing happened.

A chubby light blue hatchling with white scales toddles toward Logan’s end of the group, but doesn’t even spare him a second glance, just lunges for Patton, who’s crying out in happiness, tears streaming down his cheeks, everything else forgotten.

A brief commotion on the other side of the grounds grabs Logan’s attention for a moment. One of the hatchlings, an incredibly small black one with patches of rainbow iridescent scales has ignored the group of candidates completely, instead heading for the stands behind it. No...not the stands, but rather around the edge of them. Logan blinks to see a ragged youth step forward, his clothing faded and patched, much too large for him, but still recognizable as servants’ livery. He seems to be arguing with the hatchling, but the baby dragon is having none of it, trying to climb him until the youth kneels and takes it in his arms.

Logan almost smiles. It isn’t unheard of for a dragon to pick someone not in the group of candidates, but it seems particularly appropriate now. The Seekers hadn’t found this boy...but they had picked Logan. So they obviously weren’t as skilled as some of his reading had indicated.

Three eggs remain, all well on their way to hatching. Two shatter almost simultaneously, their occupants, one black with brilliantly blue scales, the other pure white, falling out and scanning the remaining candidates. Logan watches as Jaylen is chosen by one, and a tall girl with dark skin, Bryony, he thinks, by the white.

The last egg is finally close to finished, and Logan forces himself to watch. To examine, catalog how the hatchling pushes itself out of the hole it’s created with its egg tooth. This one appears to be blue, a deep, midnight blue, its scales a dark green.

It gives one final wriggling push and plops to the ground, shaking its head and snorting indignantly. Logan snorts, the tension beginning to drain out of him. It’s almost over, soon enough he can go back to his own life. This can just be another time he didn’t live up to expectations. It should feel familiar enough not to sting now.

It doesn’t.

The hatchling stands at last, turning to look over the crowd first, then the hopefuls still gathered. It seems to take its time, as if it knows it’s the last one and all eyes are on it.

But then those bright green eyes meet Logan’s, and his heart--and time--seem to stop.

(There you are!)