Chapter Text
Dull aching from my legs registers as I groan, rolling over to the creaking of my bones. I force my eyes open, prepared to bury back into the warmth of the bed. The heaviness of my body makes me crave the comfort of soft sheets and warmth, and I want nothing more than to—
It’s 6:30. I overslept. How did neither of the guys wake me?
Oh right. Liam had the night watch with Rhi. Xaden had an early morning Assembly meeting. He’d had a migraine when he returned last night from a long patrol and barely stirred when I fell into bed next to him at 3:00. If he tried to jostle me awake when he slipped out, well. I don’t remember it.
Forcing myself up onto throbbing arms, my muscles twitch, my skin oversensitive from extended signet practice. Improving my control so I can moderate the current I use pushes my limits, even if the skill is useful. My body disagrees with the intensive training, my movements sluggish and laden down with a fatigue I haven’t felt since early in first year.
Fuck it. I don’t have the energy to wrap all my joints and fight my way into the corset alone. Not today.
I coax myself through the bare minimum of my morning routine, my fingers clumsy enough that I forego my Tyrrish coronet braid for a simple plait down my back. My hands tremble as I tie the leather band, arms flopping uselessly by my sides. I drop onto the couch and close my eyes, slumping into the familiar support and aching for my lovers.
Step by step. Even baby steps count. I huff out a breath, sending a few stray hairs flying upwards and glowering at them.
”Bad morning?” Andarna’s featherlight brush of concern against my mind convinces me to open my eyes and pack away the self pity.
"Just feeling the stress of the last few months,” I deflect. "Nothing to worry about."
Dark disgruntlement tints my bond with Tairn, and I send a silent rebuke his way. I do not have the energy to deal with him starting a fight this morning or being a know-it-all.
”My decades of experience do not make me a ‘know-it-all’, Silver One. I have gathered my wisdom over the years and-“ Andarna quickly cuts Tairn’s tirade off.
”Blah blah blah, so much nonsense from someone allegedly so wise,” Andarna’s tone drips boredom and disdain for anything resembling adult advice. Teenagers.
”Leave me out of your argument,” I mutter, before shuttering my shields and gathering my things. My legs throb in protest as I jog down the stairs. The impact of my body slamming into Dain jars me from my thoughts as I reach the bottom. Both of us stumble as he catches my shoulders, his grip grounding me in the present.
”Hey, you okay?” It’s a rare experience to see Dain even remotely disheveled, but the stubble on his chin and dark circles under his eyes betray the toll of our late nights.
“Running late.” His hands drop when I step out of his grasp, continuing towards the dining hall as he falls into step beside me.
”Same,” Dain confesses softly, voice hoarse. “You were still up when I called it last night. How long did you stay?”
”Only a little later.” He doesn’t need to know the time. “Just tired.”
”Yeah. I think we all are,” Dain mutters as we enter the loud dining hall, the clatter of dishes and utensils clanging even above the chatter of cadets. “See you later.” I make a noise of assent as I move into the serving line, Dain breaking off to catch someone - one of the squadleaders? - for a quick word.
My mind whirs through translation options, changing word meanings and the order of words as I wait, accepting the tray of food and distractedly looking for my squadmates. I catch a hint of blonde hair and approach the table, sitting down and digging in without saying a word. The arm that wraps around my shoulders eases my restlessness, and the kiss on the crown of my head makes me lean into Liam’s side.
Rhiannon and Bragen already have a discussion going, Sawyer questioning some of the newest squad arrangements for patrols. Details escape my notice, my mind instead focused on identifying areas of interest in the translation for tonight. I startle when Liam leans in next to me, nudging a dark tea my way. “You look like you didn’t sleep,” Liam murmurs, his own voice gruff from sleeplessness.
”I’m fine. How’re you? You’re the one who had a long night,” I redirect, shovelling another bite of food into my mouth. My brain doesn’t register the taste, just the need for some source of energy.
Liam hums neutrally, his gaze assessing me. “I’m alright. Rhi and I talked about siblings all night. Reagan’s kid is precocious from the stories she tells me. Reminds me of Sloane as a kid.”
I chuckle, imagining the feisty first year as a child with no regard for the rules. It’s surprisingly easy to envision, as is the well-meaning but mischievous little Liam tagging along to keep her out of too much trouble. ”Sounds about right. Brennan claims Mira was a terror at that age.”
Liam laughs. “I can only imagine. Mira’s a lot even now. Sure you’re okay?” The soft blue melts my heart, and I swallow down the urge to confess to the exhaustion, the fear, the aches in my bones. All of that, I swallow alongside my tea, plastering a smile on my face.
“Yeah, I’m okay. Just tired.”
By early evening, I’m dragging as I force myself to the library, a large cup of high-caffeine tea in my hand and some sweet treats on a plate in place of a proper dinner. Dain’s out patrolling for the night with newly assigned fliers, so I sit down at our usual table, pulling a few of the dictionaries off the pile that greets me.
I’m halfway through a particularly tricky coded sentence, three variations written out side by side and pulling out a grammar primer, when Liam drops into the chair next to me. My arm jerks from surprise, elbow clipping my tea mug. Liam grabs it as it wobbles, liquid sloshing over the edge.
”Shit, I thought you heard me,” Liam apologizes, setting the mug a bit further away and pulling the dish towel over to mop up the liquid. “It’s already midnight. I didn’t want you to walk back alone.”
“That’s sweet,” I comment distractedly, scribbling down a couple of additional phrasing options on parchment. Depending on if this is in passive or active voice, it could be….one of three additional options. And this language has moods too, which means…shit, what did Liam say? “Sorry, what?” I blink at him in confusion, and his brow furrows with concern.
”I said I didn’t want you to walk back alone,” Liam repeats slowly, enunciating each word. “All of us are here, Vi. After midnight is our time if we’re all here, remember? We all agreed to it, even scribes turned Riders,” he teases, nudging me as he grins. “Plus both of us were up late last night.”
I shake my head, rifling through the pages. I need the primer section on moods because the fog of exhaustion makes it hard to remember subjunctive versus optative. One is the ‘should’ mood, one is the ‘wish’, but which is which? What fucking newbie doesn’t know this? Me apparently. “Sorry, but I can’t tonight. This needs to come first.”
Quiet meets my statement, and for a few moments, I almost think I’ve convinced Liam to leave, to go enjoy a moment of rare peace with Xaden. Those two have had the most taxing schedules lately. They need the rest more than I do, and they’ll have fun together without me anyway. I need to get off my ass and figure this out.
Then Liam pipes up again. “Alright, guess I’m joining you.”
I whirl in my seat, work forgotten. “No you don’t. You need the rest. I am the one who has to figure the translation out. Go, enjoy the time with Xaden.” Liam’s eyes narrow warningly, his expression reminiscent of Xaden's unimpressed glare.
”No. I’ll stay here with you, get you water or snacks or whatever you need. But I’m not leaving till you do.” Liam leans back in the chair, crossing his arms over his chest. He looks so smug with his Xaden-esque smirk that I want to run him through with one of my poisoned blades.
“No, you aren’t. Xaden’ll never agree to that,” I snort, turning back to the sentence. If Liam would just shut up, then maybe I could—
”I also don’t agree with you pushing yourself when you’re already exhausted. Bed, both of you. Now.” My hand clenches around the pen, lesser magic flaring and spiking my strength enough to dent it.
"Xaden-“
”Do I need to come collect you both? Or can I trust you to come on your own?” The silken tone sets my teeth on edge. I snarl out loud, slamming the pen down and earning a surprised look from Liam.
”You’re both overprotective,” I grumble, restacking the books and shoving the parchment into a folder to keep working on later. “Fine, let’s go.” I toss my bag over my shoulder, slurping the last of my tea. At least if I’m in our room, I can still mentally review the notes I made so far, and then I can consider some of the other sources to pull tomorrow night–
Liam’s arm on my elbow is the only thing that stops me from walking face first into the wall. “Yeah, you need sleep,” Liam mutters, steering me. “And food. Did you even eat?”
”I ate,” I protest. I deliberately neglect to mention that the food was cookies and pastries. Xaden and Liam would march me right back down to the kitchen for what they deem a ‘proper’ meal, and the thought of that extra effort and lecture weighs me down. No, they don’t need to know. “Quit worrying.”
”I’ll quit worrying the day I die,” Liam jokes, and I roll my eyes as we clamber up the last set of stairs to the room. My throbbing legs make me pay for not wrapping them, both limbs heavy and clumsy with fatigue and swelling. I slow down, taking extra care to place each step so I don’t trip. Maybe Liam won’t notice.
Our noisy entrance garners Xaden’s attention. His eyebrows raise as he sets aside the missive he’s reading at the desk, and I admire the way the loose nightclothes make him look younger, not a warrior but a young man, a step back from all the formalities that rule his day to day. It softens him, though I’d never dare to say that to his face.
”Wasn’t sure you were actually going to come,” Xaden drawls, putting his pen down. “Liam showered before he came and got you, Vi. Go clean up.”
”Bossy,” I mutter, unimpressed with his need to direct us tonight. Usually, it’s a comfort to hand over control when I come home. Tonight? I’m annoyed that he had me brought back, escorted like a miscreant.
I brush past him, and he catches my elbow, spinning me to meet my gaze in a way that makes me want to hide.
“Bossy?” Xaden repeats blandly. “Care to explain the attitude, Cadet?”
I debate a snarky response but refrain. I don’t have energy for an argument, or the fallout. “Tired. Sorry.”
Xaden holds my gaze for another few tense moments before nodding, pulling me in to drop a kiss on my forehead, resting his chin on the crown of my head. “You’re lucky it’s late, or we’d be having a different discussion. Do you want a hand with a shower?”
Gods, would I ever. A chance to unwind a bit and also not have to deal with lifting my arms to deal with my hair? But no. I’ll just leave my hair for tomorrow. I can’t deal with the fact either of them can and will pry, and I’m not sure I’d handle questioning well right now. “Thanks, but I’ll be fine.” I escape into the bathroom, mindlessly making my way through the routine and finding myself finished before I can register it.
I peer around the corner. Liam’s sitting cross-legged on the duvet, his hands moving animatedly in the way they always do when he’s excited, and I smile softly. Xaden’s already half under the blanket, shirtless, his lean muscle on full display. There’s no better sight in the world than the two of them, my brain quieting a bit even as the translations still churn in the back of my mind. Fuck, as nice as this is, I should be working on the translation, not being lazy and basking in something so…so mundane, so domestic, when so many others can’t.
A shadowy poke on the forehead breaks me from my thoughts, and I blink, registering both of my men’s gazes on me. Liam’s eyes crease with worry again while Xaden’s eyes glimmer with understanding and concern. “Violet?” Xaden calls. “Come to bed with us.”
I follow the command, conflicted even as they tug me between them, unable to pull myself entirely to the present, to being here with them, and not in the library, struggling to put together words that I know but that can mean so many different things and—
“Okay, enough thoughts.” Xaden maneuvers me before I can process or protest. He rolls me onto my back, lining his body up with mine so his weight presses down on me. A thin, almost unnoticeable line of shadows wraps around each limb, compressing the joints.
“The fuck—Xaden!” I try to roll, and he restrains me effortlessly with his body, his shadows moving with me. He pins my arms by my sides, my legs pinned together by his knees and hips stilled by his own.
“That’s Wingleader to you, Cadet,” Xaden corrects. “Stop fighting and let the day go.”
Liam’s hands land on my shoulders when I crunch upwards, forcing me down. He’s quiet as I struggle against them both, the fight soothing something feral in the back of my mind. The shadows tighten around me some time later, forcing me into stillness. My chest heaves, but my mind’s quieter, my irritation with Xaden overriding the need to work.
Xaden’s shadows slip into my Archives, pushing past my shields like it’s nothing. He runs a hand over my head, bending down to kiss my forehead, then mouth. “Let the day go, Violet. You’re running yourself in circles, love.”
I swallow as Xaden leans back, wrapping his arm around Liam’s shoulders and tugging him in for a kiss above me. “Okay.” Most days, I would argue. But tonight, my brain feels stretched too far, and gods, Liam was right to come get me. The fatigue hits like a gust of wind on the parapet, my limbs suddenly weak and clumsy.
Xaden sighs deeply, and I hear him say something, though whether it’s to Liam or me or both of us, I can’t tell. He rolls off of me, pulling me onto his chest as Liam responds. My eyes flutter shut, one of my hands curling into a fist against Xaden’s chest. His hand wraps around mine, squeezing.
I’m out before the next breath.