Chapter Text
Talkative.
Chatty.
Loud.
Happy.
All words used to describe Quinn Hollis. Most of them were true. In her mind though, when thinking about herself, Quinn always added one more: lonely.
She remembers being a kid, standing on the doorstep, begging her parents not to go away. It's important, they would insist, it's work. And little Quinn would spent her afternoons worrying why she wasn't that important... In her memories, the servants would be the ones caring for her. When she ran through the yard, eyes tracking the seemingly world wide gates that separated her from her parents, there would always be a nanny trailing close behind; she'd sit on the kitchen counter bothering the cook with endless questions and annoy the gardener with made up stories while he tended to the roses. One of her nannies said once that a smile can always make things brighter, so she started smiling all the time - perhaps her only quiet protest at being trapped in that monotone, gray house.
At eleven she heard one of her parents' friends mention Basgiath and the dragon riders. A bond that allows those criatures acess to everything about you, a bond that lasts a lifetime. Her family might've liked if she were a little more like Cianna, who thought the idea was intrusive, who was only in the quarter because of her grandfather's insistence, who would run away the first chance she got; but Quinn heard about dragons and saw salvation.
A dragon who would see her, all of her. The good, the bad, the smile and the sadness; and they would want her. There would be no telling her to shut up, no asking her to "be a little less" or ignoring her antics. She would be wanted. She would be chosen. And her family - no matter how influent they thought themselves as - they would have no say in the matter.
- It is decided. - eleven year old Quinn told her mother that same night - I'll be a dragon rider!
Her mother laughed. For maybe the first time, Quinn didn't.
On Conscription day, mom and dad spent the entire carriage ride trying to change her mind. Endless promises of a good marriage, of a life full of riches and comfort were thrown around... They couldn't quite seem to grasp that riches were not what she wanted from life. When that didn't work, they tried threats and she giggled. She was going to Basgiath, after all, not like any of their threats could scare her off. There were no "goodbyes" or "good lucks", no "I love yous" exchanged between them as the horses took off in an angry stride. Quinn stood, as always, alone, staring at the blue sky, thinking 'bout how big the world seemed all of a sudden. Gotta be brave now.
//
You see, this is why Quinn should never be allowed to make plans.
Because she got her parents out of her hair and marched up the stairs to the Parapet with joy singing in her heart. She could barely stop a grin with each step closer to the pinpoint of her dreams, the first stop of her new life and her first chance of proving how worthy she could be to a dragon. Because that was the plan! Being chosen by a dragon and finally having someone who would never want to get rid of her. It was an excellent plan, matter of fact, and it would've worked flawlessly if not for one detail:
Imogen chose her before any dragon could.
- Hi! I'm Quinn Hollis! - the words flew out of her mouth before she could even think them throughly. A cadet on the line in front of them turned at neck breaking speed, eyes widening as he took in Imogen's rebel relic and Quinn's amicable demeanour.
- What are you doing? - he mouthed. Yes, what was she doing?
It's not like Quinn hadn't heard about the marked ones before. Her family held a particularlu strong aversion for them, always complaining that "their little mutiny was terrible for business", spilling hatred so casually it left a bad feeling on her stomach. She'd seen people referring to the rebel kids as "unluckly" and many others, less kind adjectives. A few people seem to think they're dangerous. Another few talk like they're not humans, filled only with rage and incapable of love. Quinn begs to differ.
She's spent the last ten minutes quietly observing the girl beside her track each and every marked one with green eyes full of worry. Whenever one of them was called her shoulders tensed, gaze never leaving the Parapet until they had confirmation the cadet made it, then she relaxed a little and the circle started all over again. A person like that couldn't be incapable of love, Quinn was sure, not when she looked ready to drag the others back from Malek's realm in case they fell. It must be nice, a voice in her head whispered, to have someone care for you that much. Not that Quinn would know...
But... That was she was here for, wasn't it? To brave the world. Experiment new things, like love. If she could be brave enough to ride a dragon, she could be brave enough to make a friend. And so it was set. Nine years of planning thrown out of the window in favor of a pink haired cadet she met ten minutes ago.
- I've decided we should be friends.
The girl snorted, but she didn't look bothered by Quinn, more amused.
- You do realize we're about to cross the walkway of death.
That's exactly why I'm doing this, Quinn thought. Please - she wanted to beg - if I'm going to fall to my death as soon as I step there, please give me the gift of dying with a friend. But she didn't say any of that. She said:
- It might be a short friendship, then. But we'll make it a good one.
//
Being friends with Imogen was something that made her sad first years couldn't write to their families. She wanted her parents to receive her letters and hear about how their daughter loved Basgiath. Every bruise, every cut, every sleepless night was worth it. She wanted to write and say "I've made a friend. She's worth more than everything you've ever promised to give me." Every laugh and hug, every story and thought shared was a treasure to Quinn, even if sharing some of her own still felt like pulling teeth.
There was one time when they were in the first years tents, both sharing a bed while Quinn waved her hands wildly in the middle of a story she doesn't even remember now. Her train of thought was lost when she registered the intensity with which pale green eyes were fixed on her.
- You're looking at me weird, what is it?- she told Im. Her friend simply shrugged.
- I kinda like when you're... You.
The expression on her face that day was the complete opposite of the one Imogen sported now, as she barged into the common room and dragged her out by the arm, not uttering a word until they arrived at a secluded corner of the corridors, covered in shadows, far away so that no one could hear the conversation. Quinn would've been nervous if it was anyone other than her best friend.
- You planning to kill me? - she still couldn't help but joke. It didn't land right, judging by the tremble of Imogen's lips, her eyes narrowing in such fury like Quinn had never seen. - Gen, you okay? Did Tavis do something?
Are we gonna talk about it? - she asked once, when they were in cafeteria after battle brief, her body buzzing with excitement at what she'd just witnessed.
- Talk about what? - Gen asked, trying to seem innocent. Ha. She could not fool Quinn.
The blonde leaned in closer to her friend, not fighting the grin breaking on her face and pointed an accusing finger at the marked one.
- You like Garrick Tavis.
- ... You could say that.
Her squeal earned a few dirty looks from other cadets but it was worth it just for the blush that tinged Imogen's cheeks. She veemently refused to talk about it and Quinn respected her friend's wishes, of course, limiting herself to noticing the pining glances between those two and a few teasing comments when the situation called for it. If there was a notebook filled with scribbling of a wedding plan under her pillow, well, that's only part of her duties as a best friend, of course. She might've already bought her maid of honor's dress... Quinn did promise to walk Imogen down the aisle, even if both of them are wearing canes when the time comes. Honestly, it'll probably take a thousand years with the way those two cling to denial. If that boy did something to upset her friend, though, second year or not Quinn was going to kill him.
- You were taking to her. - she spat - Sorrengail. Bodhi saw you two in a little meeting last night. - Quinn felt the color drain from her face, tears forming in her eyes the same way they were forming in Imogen's. For all the anger she must've been feeling, when she spoke again her voice showed only hurt. - You never wanted to be my friend.
- What? Of course I -
- You were what? Spying? The things I told you, you told her?
- No! - she would never. Every piece of her life Imogen had disclosed was locked in her heart, protected from the cruel world that wanted to extinguish the other girl's happiness. - I was, it wasn't like that, Gen! I was just...
- Just what? - good thing the corridor was empty because they were both shouting now, fat tears streaming down their faces - That woman has been in every single one of my nightmares for four years and you went casually strolling with her on the woods?
- She was trying to get me out of here!
Imogen's face crumbled.
- You're leaving?
- No!
She paused, sobs the only sound for a while as Quinn took several deep breaths before she was well enough to answer. In her head, an old, evil voice whispered that explanations were pointless because, like always, nobody would care for what she had to say. Tension hugged her body, heart and mind debating their next steps. Imogen stood, somewhat patiently, looking more wrecked than she'd ever seen, her stare like a plead for Quinn to give her something that meant this entire friendship wasn't a lie.
- My parents don't want me here. - she sat down suddenly, forcing the words out taking away her energy. - They are very rich and apparently they asked Sorrengail to talk me out of being a rider. - she scoffed, the same anger from the night before consuming her heart - They don't think I can do this.
Im made a face like she'd just tasted something awful and slowly sat by Quinn's side, muttering about "navarrian's pea sized brains". They didn't look at eachother, simply sat side by side for a moment. In the last months Quinn had crossed death bridges, survived a moving obstacle course built for killing and bonded a dragon; yet this was the most terryifing moment of her life until now. She was telling her fears to shut up and choosing to open up, all cards on the table.
- Sorrengail said that I still wasn't bonded so there was time for me to leave. I told her where she could shove that offer because... - she threw her arms up as if surrendering to the truth - They've never cared! I've spent my entire life dreaming about having someone to know and love me, because they. Never. Did. And they don't get to try and be there now that I finally have a chance of discovering the world on my own terms. - her speech was interrupted by a sob clawing it's way out of her mouth as she let herself feel all the loneliness of twenty years - I've tried to bury everything, keep smiling, be nice... I just really wanted someone who actually liked my presence, you know?
She looked down, hair covering her face so she wouldn't see Imogen's reaction to her words. Her heart beat like a drum inside her chest.
- I've spent my entire life alone and I don't even know why. - Quinn's voice wavered and that just made it all more shameful. - I just, I guess I don't really know how to be someone people like.
Imogen shook her head veemently.
- You've probably spent your life surrounded by idiots. - the words came out so serious that it sparked a laugh out of her.
- You were the first person who made me feel loved. - she whispered, eyes closed as if that would make the words less dangerous. - You're part of the reason why I don't wanna leave. I've found Cruth, my home, and I've found you.
There, she said it. No fake happiness, no swtiching subjects, no hiding. Raw, honest truth is what Quinn's offering up to Imogen in a plate. Her heart, bare for her to look through and decide if she wants it. The fear is so strong it makes her want to bolt but she refuses to move. If she loses her best friend - her only friend now, she'll face it. The wound will never heal, but she'll face it. Gotta be brave now.
//
Imogen stayed silent as she processed her friend's story. Her first reaction was the wish of beating up Quinn's parents, bubbling up inside her like a fire being stoked. Two new names into the "would gladly feed to Glane" list... How could anyone make their child feel so unloved? How could anyone look at Quinn and not be wonderstruck with her existence? She's been the person willing to lay down with Im and listen to every story, the one who encouraged her dreams no matter how silly they might seem. She brought smiles even in this place haunted by death, she brought life in so many moments when Im was sure hers was over.
Now Quinn sat oh so quiet beside her, breathing ragged and head low. It hurt to see.
It felt weird to know someone like this, so throughly, and it was different from the relationship she had with Katrina, or even with Garrick, or the kids. To all of them, she'd felt somehow imposed, either by blood or contract, or as the only avaiable option. Quinn chose her. No pressure, no forced connection and a lot of other people for her to befriend, but - for some unexplainable reason - she wanted Imogen. It made her feel special in a foreign, terryifing way.
- I've never been alone. - she whispered and it felt like a confession. The navarrian still didn't look at her but her head turned slightly, showing she was paying attention. - And it hurts because everybody in this place wants me to change in a way or the other. - slowly, like she was dealing with a scared animal, Im reached out and took Quinn's hand, squeezing tightly. - You're the only person I can really be me with.
Quinn's lips twitched.
- I kinda like when you're you.
A laugh escaped her. A bit desperate, not at all humorous, mixed with the tears spilling incessantly from her eyes.
- This is your place. - she said, voice breaking - Here, as Cruth's rider. Here, as my best friend. - Quinn turned to her with a sob. Gods, both of them probably looked like a mess. Their hands stayed intertwined, knuckles white as if letting go was a hurtful thought. - Sorrengail is dumber than I thought if she tried to convince you otherwise.
Her friend's eyes rolled as she shook her head.
- She dragged me out of bed at midnight just to say I should go home, can you believe it?
- That old witch.
- The audacity.
Small laughs echoed in the hallway along with their sniffles now that the crying was stoping. Quinn tugged on her hand so their eyes could meet, worrying her bottom lip as she talked.
- We're good, right?
Imogen nodded, her heart lighter as Quinn sighed in relief.
- Just so you know, if I ever meet your parents, I'm going to kill them.
- ... I fear Cruth had called dibs on that.
Imogen sighed dramatically.
- Alright, I'll settle for some maiming.
//
Imogen's gone for aproximately ten minutes before the three of them realize letting her confront her possibly traitor friend while seething with rage is a very, very bad idea and so - despite Chradh's insistence that this is the most entretained he's been in months - they leave to find her.
The shadows cover their quick stride through the hallways, yet Bodhi keeps glancing around like Sorrengail is going to jump from the ceiling and execute them with a well placed glare.
- She would've wanted a quiet corner to talk. - Xaden says and they both know that when he says "talk" he actually means "yell". - We just have to find that corner.
- Because that'll be so easy...
Xaden glares but doesn't argue. They walk quietly, always together, scanning every hall and coming up empty; Garrick has only just remembered he could've asked Chradh to talk to Glane when a sudden pinch in his neck has him stoping dead on his tracks. He barely winces as a hand comes up to pat the place of the hurt, finding an object... A... Dart? Ah, no.
His eyes widen as they find Xaden, also with a dart sticking from his neck, also clearly angry at the realization they've both came to. Bodhi falls to the floor with a confused mumble and - you guessed! A dart on his neck.
The last things that come to Garrick are Chradh's hurried but confident assurance that it's going to be okay, and a frustrated thought that this is the worst possible timing for RSC to start.
//
Xaden's already awake when he comes to because of course he is, and the fact only serves to annoy Garrick more. He is laying on the ground, the room's lights too bright for his confused mind, his best friend wearing an unimpressed face from where he' sat leaning against the wall. The rest of the squad is also here, also slowly regaining conscience with varrying degrees of confusion. Xaden gives him a tight smile.
- And we thought this place couldn't get any worse, brother.