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Little Lia sat on a stool in front of him, her little tan legs dangling, while Dain stood behind her with the expression of a man ready for battle.
A brush hung uselessly from his fingers.
Her curly blond hair which she has far too much of it and he usually adores (Just like her mother's) slipped through his hands. Every section he tried to weave into the fishtail braid somehow ended up tangled or entirely uneven.
"This braid is cursed," he muttered under his breath.
"Can’t I just do a normal braid?" Dain tried to plead his case again. He can do that. Little Violet groomed that into him when they were children after all.
Lia sighed dramatically. "Mama can do it in five minutes."
Dain was grateful he could at least tame and care for her curls like Sloane. Cut a man some slacks.
After another painful thirty seconds of him struggling in silence, she tilted her head just enough to look up at him.
"You are a General, Dad," she looks unimpressed. "You plan and fight battles but you can’t do one braid?" Lia said with an innocent yet merciless honesty only children possessed.
Dain froze.
Then a laugh escaped him, quiet at first, almost disbelieving. Oh he is reminded nearly everyday that his lion cup has his wife's mouth. He bowed his head forward, shoulders shaking slightly as he laughed. Carefully, he leaned down and pressed a kiss against the top of her hair.
"Yes," he admitted, still laughing.
"But a good General knows when he will lose the battle."
Lia looks pityful at him and accepting that she won’t get her fishtail braid. How merciful of her.
"And I," Dain sighed, lifting the strands of her hair like evidence of a lost fight, "am losing."
"Really badly." Lia hums.
"Catastrophically." He agrees.
Lia starts to giggle and Dain is smiling at his daughter through the mirror.
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In honor of the one year anniverary of my first fic, here is Iris' first birthday! It's a little unhinged and a lot chaotic, but full of love, just like I imagine this family. Tagging @violencelittlething as always!
Summary: In the lead up to Iris Riorson’s first birthday, her whole family has ideas about how to celebrate.
Word count: 2232
When Violet and Xaden fell in love, got married, and had a baby, they anticipated some potentially spirited discussions about what traditions they’d want to include for their family. She grew up in Navarre, he was the ruler of Tyrrendor, of course they had been raised differently. What they hadn’t counted on – and, really, they should have – was that those spirited discussions would involve their entire family, whether they liked it or not.
“We don’t have pinatas in Tyrrendor, Ridoc!” Imogen shouted.
“Not sure we have them in Navarre either,” Sawyer grumbled.
“And? Isn’t the whole point that we get to create our own traditions? Keeping the old that was good and embracing the new? Bodhi? Xaden? Help me out here,” Ridoc argued.
“You’re not getting help on this from me, man,” Bodhi answered. “But if you want to team up with me to fight for traditional Tyrrish musicians playing as Iris is carried into the party, just say the word.”
“Not if the party doesn’t involve a pinata!”
“What the actual fuck even is a pinata?” Garrick demanded as he entered the conversation. Everyone groaned.
“A pinata is something that you fill with candy and hang from a string. You can make it look like whatever you want. Ridoc here is suggesting a replica of Aotrom. Then the kids try to break the pinata and get the candy. Apparently he learned about it in Zehyllna,” Dain explained.
“Sounds fun. I’m in.” Both Imogen and Xaden rolled their eyes at Garrick as he and Ridoc high-fived.
“People, people! Let’s focus on something important. The cake!” Sloane exclaimed. “Violet, have you come to your senses yet?” Cake, especially for a child’s first birthday, was a big deal in Tyrrendor. Sloane and Bodhi had found dozens of handwritten recipes for so many of their childhood favorite dishes. Bodhi's mother’s recipe box had been largely intact, and Sloane remembered her parents patiently teaching her how to make many of the Mairi family classics. The traditional Tyrrish first birthday cake was a lemon-blueberry cake, filled with homemade lemon curd and homegrown blueberries, and topped with a lemon buttercream frosting. It was the perfect blend of tart and sweet, but not so sweet that it would overwhelm a child who likely hadn't eaten much sugar. To Sloane and the other Tyrrish members of the family, serving it was an obvious choice. Xaden, as usual, was staying out of the squabbling, but he had suggested more than once to Violet that she acquiesce to Sloane.
Violet, however, wanted the birthday cake she remembered from her childhood. Lilith Sorrengail was no baker, but Asher knew how to purchase a good cake. Violet remembered her father arriving home on birthdays with a big bakery box containing a giant confection with layers of chocolate, vanilla, and strawberry cake topped with white chocolate frosting. Sloane could make it. She even thought it sounded delicious, but she insisted it was absolutely improper for Iris’ first birthday. The result was a standoff. Violet wouldn't budge and neither would Sloane. Dain tried to lobby Sloane. “Iris is Violet’s daughter, Sloane. You can't just bully her into choosing the cake you want! You can make the lemon-blueberry cake for our future children’s first birthdays” She just dug her heels in more. Dain appealed to Sloane's compassionate side. “You know, that cake is one of my only happy childhood memories.” For approximately ten seconds, Sloane appeared to be reconsidering, before proclaiming “We'll make you new happy memories. With Tyrrish cake. You and Iris can experience them together.” And then she slammed the door in his face.
Violet and Xaden also shouldn't have been surprised that the dragons had opinions about the celebration. Tairn and Sgaeyl had been cross with each other for weeks, locked in a war over which of them would bear Iris for her birthday flight. Andarna played referee – which really looked more like her egging each of them on. Of course, Iris had flown on both dragons multiple times. But the birthday flight was special. It took Xaden threatening to let Iris’ birthday flight take place with Bodhi on Cuir to get the mates to finally give the fighting a rest.
The truth was, Iris was a collective baby. Yes, Violet and Xaden were her parents, but as the first baby born into the squad – be that Iron Squad, Quest Squad, or the Marked Ones – she was essentially treated as if she belonged to every single one of them. Each adult was a doting aunt or uncle, regardless of whether they shared a single drop of blood or were married into either the Sorrengail or Riorson lines. They'd been there when Iris was born, held her within hours of her birth, and shared special moments with her. Dain had been given her first smile, her first laugh was at Ridoc, Imogen and Garrick had been right next to Xaden and Violet as Iris crawled to her parents for the very first time. From dinners to outings to playtime to babysitting, they were all deeply involved in the life of the little girl they loved more than anything. And even though the arguing was close to making Xaden throw each and every one of them out of his house, everyone just wanted Iris’ special day to truly be the best day.
_______
Iris woke up on her first birthday in her mother’s arms. Violet crept into Iris’ nursery just before she'd normally wake, lifted her out of her crib, and settled in the rocking chair. As she waited for Iris to stir, she looked at Iris' sweet little face. She remembered the moment her midwife had placed Iris in her arms exactly a year prior. Iris had grown and changed so much, but in that moment Violet swore she looked just like a newborn. When Iris opened her eyes and saw Violet, she lit up. Just weeks before, she'd said her first three words in fairly quick succession: “Mama,” “Dada,” and “Bobo” for Bodhi.
“Mama!” Iris said happily as she beamed.
“Good morning, sweet pea. Happy Birthday! Today is a special day where we all celebrate you.” Iris babbled excitedly in response to her mother's words. “You were born one year ago today,” Violet continued. “You changed all of our lives. I'm so lucky to be your mom. We love you so much, Iris.”
“That we do,” Xaden said as he entered the nursery.
“Dada! Dada!” Iris reached for her dad.
“Stay with Mama for a little, baby girl,” Xaden said after pressing a kiss to the crown of her head. “Birthdays are special for mamas.” Violet caught the slightest flash of grief as Xaden spoke, as he was reminded of how his own mother left him on his birthday. “You're our brightest light, little one. You bring us so much joy and you are so loved.”
______
After an easy early morning with her parents, Iris was dressed in her baby flight leathers. As soon as they stepped out of their wing, they found Garrick waiting for them. “Uncle Garrick reporting for birthday duty,” he said, saluting Iris. Iris giggled, which was pretty much her immediate response any time she saw Garrick. Garrick lifted her out of Violet’s arms and held her up high, holding her torso so she could spread her arms out like wings. “It's the flying baby! Iris, the most fearless, amazing baby niece!” This was their special game, one Garrick started playing with her as soon as she could hold up her own head.
“Couldn't wait til the party, Tavis?” Xaden smirked at his best friend.
“You're lucky I waited at all. I've been out here for an hour. I almost barged into the room at least three times. I had to see my favorite niece and she needed to see her favorite uncle.”
“I don't see Dain anywhere,” Xaden teased.
“Not funny.” Garrick scowled at Xaden. “Not funny at all. You know my heart is still hurting over that.”
“You'll get over it. Now if you'll excuse us, this little baby needs to have her birthday flight.”
Violet and Xaden walked Iris down to the flight field, where both Tairn and Sgaeyl waited. Though Sgaeyl would grumble and grouse, Violet had decided that Iris’ birthday flight would take place on Tairn. Xaden and Sgaeyl would fly next to them and it would be a family experience, but Violet used Bodhi’s lessons on Tyrrish tradition to her advantage. According to Xaden's history buff cousin, in the case that both parents were riders there were no hard and fast rules but the child typically would ride with their mother. Tairn, of course, could not have been more pleased. Andarna was in her harness, and Iris was so excited to see them all. She loved the dragons as much as her parents.
________
While the Riorsons enjoyed the birthday flight, chaos ensued back at the fortress as the others prepared for Iris’ party. Sloane took over the kitchen, threatening more than once to hit Bodhi, Ridoc, and Garrick with heavy frying pans if they wouldn't stay out of her kitchen. Dain knew better than to try to sneak snacks, so he instead argued with Imogen and Brennan about the color scheme for the balloons and streamers and the ideal location of Iris’ present pile. Sawyer and Jesinia were placing tiny birthday hats on each of Iris’ stuffed animals – mostly dragons and bunnies – so that they could be part of the celebration. There was a sense of restlessness in the air, each of them anxious to hold the birthday girl and shower her with gifts.
Finally, Iris arrived in her pink and sparkly party dress, fresh from a nap and ready for fun. Violet placed her gently on the carpet and, as expected, she immediately crawled to Dain.
“Happy Birthday, angel,” he said as he lifted her into his arms. “My girl is already 1! Still the prettiest girl in the world and the sweetest too. Look at this dress! Sloane! You have to see the dress.”
“What the hell is this?” Xaden’s voice boomed. Everyone reluctantly turned away from Iris and Dain to look at Xaden, who was staring at an ice sculpture. A very odd, dripping ice sculpture. “Gamlyn, explain.”
“So, after many of you dismissed my idea of a pinata –”
“You mean all of us,” Imogen interjected.
“Garrick was on my side!”
“Doesn't count. You said the word candy. You know how he is when there's food.”
“Fine. As I was saying before I was so rudely and factually incorrectly interrupted, after my spectacular idea of a pinata was dismissed, I moved on to my next festive idea.”
“This? This was your festive idea?” Xaden growled. Violet burst out laughing. Bodhi nearly fell to the ground. Sawyer hid his face in his hands.
“Yes.”
“It’s. Me.”
“Of course it is!”
“Why? Why is it me?”
“When a mom and a dad love each other way too much and lightning strikes, Baby Iris is made. So this is me celebrating her parents!”
“Gamlyn. It's just me. There's no Violet. It's just a very disturbingly real-looking ice sculpture of me with confetti thrown over it and wearing my fucking leather jacket.”
“I…ran out of time?”
“Violence, please let me hurt him,” Xaden begged his wife.
“Not on Iris’ special day, my love,” Violet managed between giggles. “You'll have to wait until tomorrow.”
“Dada ice?” Iris asked as she noticed what all the grown-ups were paying attention to.
Ridoc took his opportunity to enchant Iris and use her as a shield. “That's right, Iris. Uncle Ridoc made you a sculpture of Daddy. Come see it with me.” Iris reached out to grab the ice sculpture’s nose. “Dada!”
“See, she likes it,” Ridoc cooed.
Xaden breathed in sharply through his nose. “That thing will be gone by the time Iris goes to bed or you will never return. And you’ll clean my leather jacket.”
_____
The party kicked off without further incident. They played with Iris’ toys, sang her favorite songs, and watched with awe as she took in all the decorations and her stuffed animals’ party hats. Violet and Xaden helped her open presents. There were traditional first birthday gifts: a rocking horse that had once been Xaden and Bodhi’s, blocks, books of fairytales in various languages, and a blanket woven with runes. There were toys, three more stuffed dragons, hair bows, dresses, and a personalized toddler-sized apron so she could join Sloane in the kitchen.
Then it was time for Sloane to bring out the cake. No one knew whether she’d decided to follow Violet’s wishes or if she was just going to make the Tyrrish cake. She’d kept everyone out of the kitchen all day, and everyone else was kept in suspense. Sloane wheeled out a serving cart with two cakes: one the traditional Tyrrish lemon-blueberry and the other Sloane’s recreation of the neapolitan cake from Violet’s childhood.
“Cake time, princess!” Sloane squealed. Iris clapped her hands.
Violet and Xaden held Iris between them as everyone sang Happy Birthday. Then at once, Violet fed her a bite of the neapolitan cake and Xaden fed her a bite of the lemon-blueberry cake. Their little Iris, the brightest light in the room, a perfect mixture of her parents who made her and the family members who loved her - Tyrrish, Navarrian, and absolutely perfect.
Do you ever think about how Xaden probably has a little wooden Sgaeyl figurine that Liam carved for him that he’s brought with him every time he’s relocated (Basgiath, Samara, Aretia) because it’s the only piece of Liam he has left?
And have you considered that when he left at the end of Onyx Storm it was probably the first time he didn’t bring it with him? 😭
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For Day 3 of Slain Week here's my Aetos-Mairi family moodboard! Featuring our beautiful couple, their four children, the dragons, and some livestock that Sloane definitely considers part of the family and Dain...doesn't. @empyreanevents @violencelittlething
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Summary: Imogen was the last of the core marked ones to think of Sloane as a sister, but once she does she does it fiercely. Set during Onyx Storm, during a quest squad mission. Sloane is hurt during a sparring match with a Navarrian loyalist and ends up in the infirmary. Written a day late for day 1 of Imogen week (sister) @empyreanevents
Word count: 1373
Imogen entered the sparring gym, rolling her neck to release the tension that reminded her she had just had the longest day. All she wanted to do was shower and climb into bed, but she still had a training session with Sloane on her agenda. Imogen drew in a breath, not knowing if Sloane would be in a good mood or a particularly contrary mood. Truth be told, she usually found Sloane to be in the latter when it came time for training. She had improved a great deal since she crossed the parapet, thanks to Imogen and to training in Aretia with cadets who didn’t wish her dead, but Xaden insisted that Imogen still work with her multiple nights a week. Imogen didn’t argue. Arguing with Xaden was a useless endeavor in general, but even more useless when it came to Liam’s sister. It wasn’t that she disliked Sloane; Imogen actually liked her a lot now that she was starting to aim her sass and defiance in the right direction and considered her a friend. But she was tired, and this was one more thing on what felt like a lengthening to-do list.
Noticing that she was the first to arrive, Imogen tapped her foot. Of all the days for Sloane to be late, she had to pick the day that Imogen was dead tired. Sloane was never late, though. “Mairis are always punctual,” Sloane had told her time and time again. And it was true, Imogen couldn’t remember a time that Liam had been late either.
“Are you waiting for Sloane?” Rhiannon asked with a quizzical expression.
“It’s Tuesday night, so yes,” Imogen replied, not being able to stop the sarcasm from creeping into her voice. She knew that the squad leader was well aware of Imogen and Sloane’s arrangement. What she didn’t know was why Rhiannon looked so confused. “Don’t tell me Sorrengail came back to rope Sloane into Quest Squad. We’re already down Greycastle.”
“No, that’s not it. I just thought you would have known.”
“Known what? I don’t have time for this, Matthias.”
“Sloane’s in the infirmary. She got hit pretty badly during sparring today against a second year from First Wing. Son of a bitch had it in for her from the beginning, calling her disloyal to the crown, but Emetterio couldn’t stop him. She tried her damndest though. You would have been proud.”
“Why the hell didn’t I know about this?”
“No idea, Cardulo. I think Section Leader Durran is still with her. He came running, almost like he sensed that she was in pain.”
Imogen smiled. It was just like Bodhi to know when any of them were in trouble. He might have thought he’d never live up to Xaden, but from where Imogen was standing he definitely did. Bodhi was a humble leader, full of compassion. He reminded Imogen so much of his mother. While Xaden took on the burden of leading the revolution and preserving as many lives as possible, Bodhi was the people person. He was also the first one to get Sloane to open up and he’d sworn to protect her like she was his own blood. He’d never try to replace Liam, but he considered Sloane his little sister and to everyone’s surprise, Sloane happily accepted it.
Imogen hurried to the infirmary. Sure enough, there was Bodhi by Sloane’s bed, hair wild like he’d been running his hands through it repeatedly, holding one of Sloane’s hands in both of his. “It’s okay, honey,” Imogen could hear him whisper. “You just rest.”
“Bo, what the fuck?” Imogen demanded. “You didn’t think to tell me she was hurt?”
Bodhi’s head snapped to look at her so fast she could have sworn it was Xaden in front of her. “When would you have liked me to do that, Imogen? Garrick and Xaden are gone, you were gods know where, so it was just me. And there was no fucking way I was going to let her wake up alone in that bed. No fucking way. I’m sorry she missed training and you were inconvenienced, but I’m the one here trying to hold what’s left of this family together. I’m not going to let another Mairi die on my watch.”
Imogen turned to look at Sloane. She looked so small in the bed and so young. Imogen could see bruises all over her face and a matching set of bruises on her throat. She took in the sling on Sloane’s arm and the bandages peeking out from under her blanket.
“She had a dislocated shoulder and multiple broken ribs. Her wrist is sprained. They had to put her out to fix her ribs,” Bodhi recounted.
Imogen opened her mouth to say something, to acknowledge Bodhi’s words and to ask more questions about Sloane’s injuries, but suddenly she was overcome by a fierce wave of protectiveness. Despite Bodhi, Garrick, and even Xaden all considering Sloane a sister, Imogen hadn’t felt that way. None of them ever had a sister, she’d reasoned to herself. Katrina is my only sister. But as Imogen looked at Sloane, really looked at her, it was like a switch flipped inside her. She wasn’t just looking at a squadmate, a friend, a fellow Aretian revolutionary; she was looking at a sister.
“I’m sorry,” she told Bodhi. “I’m glad you’ve been with her. She needs you.”
“She was in so much pain, Im. You know how tough she is, how she never wants to show any hint of weakness, but she was so hurt and so scared. When I got to her, she launched herself into my arms. Said she wanted Liam.” Bodhi’s voice cracked and Imogen felt her heart do the same. “So I just picked her up and carried her here. She didn’t want to leave my arms once we got here. The healers didn’t want me in with her, but I threw Xaden’s title around enough that they knew they’d be paid a visit from him when he gets back from wherever the fuck he is and they didn’t seem to want that, so here I am.”
“She’s our sister,” Imogen whispered, so softly Bodhi wasn’t sure he had heard her correctly. “They can’t get rid of us.”
Bodhi’s lip turned up ever so slightly, but immediately pressed back into a frown when a healer approached him. “Only one visitor,” the healer declared. “I know you think you should get special treatment because you’re the heir to Tyrrendor, but we do have rules here at Basgiath,” she sneered.
In seconds, Imogen was in the healer’s face. “Do we look like people who follow stupid rules to you? That girl is our baby sister and we’re going to be right here next to her until she’s well enough to walk out of here. And if you have a problem with that, you have two options: one, go fuck yourself; two, join the riders quadrant and fight us. So, I suggest you back the fuck up and let us take care of our sister.”
The healer turned to Bodhi. “You heard her. Unless you’re here to actually care for my sister, get the fuck out of here.” The healer had the audacity to roll her eyes, causing Bodhi to rise from his chair menacingly, before she slipped away.
“So, sister?” Bodhi asked, with a playful glint in his eye.
“Yes, Durran. Sister. She’s not Katrina, but she’s mine. She’s ours.”
Bodhi slipped an arm around Imogen, pulling her into him. “Damn right she is. I’m proud of you, Ims.”
They settled back into their chairs by Sloane’s side, the silence growing heavier as they waited for her to wake up. Though they knew she was out of the worst of the danger, they’d lost enough people that the fear wouldn’t truly leave until she opened her eyes. Imogen found herself silently bargaining with the gods and she was sure Bodhi was doing the same. I don’t want to do this without her, Imogen thought. I need her more than I realized.
She’ll be okay, Imogen heard a soft, familiar voice say in her head. She’ll wake soon. And when she did, an hour later, Imogen greeted her sister with open arms.
by a Bodhi Durran shower thought that a hundred other people have likely already had, but—
Given what we know of the Riorson line, and what we know they know about the threat rising beyond the wards, they would have prepared their prospective riders long before conscription day, aware that the gryphons were the least of their worries. Since birth, Bodhi has been that Riorson rider as his mother likely was, since the ducal seat went to Fen. Although we don’t know anything about his father, I think it’s safe to assume it was also a contracted birth with a strategic ally, perhaps not even one of any length given how unlikely it would be the line actually passes to Bodhi.
I digress.
The thought that plagues me is this:
Bodhi Durran was trained to ride, probably with more intensity than even Auerlie Donans. He was prepared. What must it be like for him to be that quintessential rider from blood to bone, to the way he commands, only to watch Xaden take his birthright. Not only take his birthright but be “better” at it than he is. (I’d argue Xaden’s not actually better, but Bodhi would probably think he is. Xaden’s certainly charismatic, but he’s too volatile in a lot of ways to be all the things a Wingleader really should be.) Bodhi spends his life straddling this ravine of gratitude for what Xaden has done for all of them, saving them, a life of service to his rightful duke, while also living with the knowledge he’s been rendered irrelevant in many of the ways that count. And Xaden’s decisions tend to box him in further.
I don’t know where I’m going. I just feel for him - to be born and bred, to have your purpose hammered into your bones from birth and then everything you’ve spent your life preparing for gets yanked out from under you. By someone you love and can’t even resent for doing so, because it was his duty to do so, because he was sixteen and put in an impossible position and had to make a decision that you yourself probably couldn’t have made.
