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It sure as fuck wasn’t easy being the only girl Dragon Rider. Especially when the rest of the guys were such pigs. It wasn’t that Balfour had any particular issue with them herself, it just got frustrating to be the butt of so many really bad jokes.
“Balfour, can I carry that saddle for you?” Adamo asked politely.
Her teeth were just on edge. Routine training flights were the most inane things ever, but at least they were flying. Even just an hour was better than nothing. Being cooped up in with the boys wasn’t exactly a pleasant experience.
“Pity we couldn’t have stayed up for a bit longer.” Ace called to Adamo as he walked by.
Flying was worth anything else she had to put up with. Flying was worth risking her life. Flying was worth fighting a war. That feeling of being weightless, of power as she and Anastasia just soared above the city was unlike anything else. It was freedom. True freedom.
“Not me. I’ve got my eye on a proper girl” Raphael said.
She’d left a good life behind. She came from a good family. She had prospects. But what the fuck did that matter when she could be flying? Even if the thoughts rolling around her head sometimes kept her awake at night, she never doubted that she had made the right choice.
“You checked to make sure it’s a proper girl? Wouldn’t want you to wind up with a trap there.” Compagnon giggled.
The problem was that she was just so damn scared all the time. Scared of not fitting in, of not having the respect of her fellow pilots. Scared of what Rook was going to say next. Sometimes she did feel weaker, but maybe it was just because she took such a constant stream of abuse from that bastard.
“Shut your damn mouth, it’s a classier lady than your mother.” Raphael snapped back at him.
And she was the newest pilot. It made sense for the rookie to have to put up with a bit more shit. And she could handle it. She just had to keep telling herself, over and over, that she was strong enough to take whatever shit he threw at her.
“That’s what you told us last time. And it turned out not to well for you if I fucking recall.” Merritt called out as he drifted by.
Balfour could still remember her first day here, when she’d figured out everyone wanted to call her Lady Nika and hold doors open for her. Except that lewd comments and questions about why she was wearing trousers instead of skirts had followed.
“Well Merritt, when was the last time you got tail of any kind? Even shirt lifters must get tired of that tap-tap-tapping problem you’ve got going on.” Ghislain pointed out.
It had quickly become clear that respect wasn’t something she would be afforded lightly. Even Adamo, the closest thing the riders had to a man with a conscience or a soul assumed she would be a useless pilot, a useless fighter.
“It is hard to imagine a man or woman alive who’d be made happy by our dear Merritt.” Evariste commented solemnly.
Every day was spent proving them wrong, and nearly every night was spent keeping herself from crying when Rook dyed her hand blue and she had to walk around with her head high, regardless of the blue fucking hand print staining her face.
“It’s true, there is a lot of slack to be taken up living with you poor fellows. But I do so love rising to a challenge.” Niall said with an airy tone.
Balfour finally finished up with Anastasia and gave her a last smile before making her way up to the residential area.
“And what are you going to get up to this afternoon? Have yourself a little tea party? Maybe play with some dolls?” Rook sing-songed behind her suddenly.
“Rook, just leave me alone.” Balfour said quietly. She slid her gloves off, and worried the sturdy leather between two fingers.
“Come on Nika. After the great excitement of flying, what are you gonna do to calm down? Have a bit of a lie down? Should I fetch you a cool fucking drink?” Rook was standing close, but she still didn’t turn around.
“I’ve told you not to call me that. You call the other pilots whatever name they please. I’d prefer to go by my last name.” Her hands curled into fists as she spoke.
“And why the fuck should I care what you think, bitch?” Rook asked with a laugh.
It was the last straw. Balfour felt rage burn all through her like dragonfire. In this one perfect moment she was truly unafraid for the first time in her life. She spun on her heel, raising the hand fisted around her gloves and punched Rook solidly in his stupid, smug face. The satisfying crunch resounded through the entire, suddenly silent, room and she could see the red mark blooming against the whiteness of Rook's face, even through the hand he'd brought up to cover it.
They both stood stock still for a moment, her chest heaving slightly in anger, and him frozen with shock.
“Because I am your equal, and you will address me with as much respect as a pathetic, lonely bully like you can muster.” Balfour said through clenched teeth.
Then Rook tilted his head to one side, as though seeing her for the first time and nodded, dropping his hand from his cheek.
“Fair enough then.” Rook said, and walked on by her.
A second later someone started clapping, Balfour couldn’t have said who, but she did suddenly realize the room was full of the other dragon riders, all of them clapping, a few whistling. All of them proud of her for standing up to Rook. Adamo grinned and nodded her across the room and she wanted to blush.
She felt herself smile slowly, like a great weight had slid from her shoulders. There were different kinds of strength, different things that were important. And this was just a different kind of strength. She didn’t have to take shit from anybody over anything.
She was a fucking dragon rider. And everyone else better fucking remember that.