Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Fir gets it.

Big family, big deal, big news! Their newest heir was claimed by a Dragon of the Fires. Shocker.

Fir thinks he shouldn’t be bitter. It’s luck of the draw, you’re either a nepotism baby or you’re not, and Fir was stuck firmly in the “not.”

He just wishes he didn’t have to keep hearing about it. 

Every second of every day, customers gossip about the Minecraft family and their capacity to bond with dragons. Fir makes a conscious effort to hold back a scoff. 

When you fund their habitat and are around them from the day you were born, it’s a no-brainer. Those eggs hatch, and they’ll choose what they already know. 

The best way to ensure a dragon egg knows you is to have a lot of money, and this was something Fir came to terms with a long time ago. He can’t recall much from his early childhood, but the only thing he remembers is being brought to a real dragon race. 

Dragons of all types and colors flew past him at alarming speeds, and though he was a child stuck firmly to the ground in the arms of his guardian, the adrenaline of that moment remains etched in his mind. 

That, however, was a long time ago. Now, Fir is pretending to pay attention as a woman rants to him about how unacceptable her room was, and how deserving she is of a refund. He counts his blessings, though. Her grating voice is a greater alternative than listening to another person say the name “Minecraft.”

At some point in his life, Fir lived in an orphanage. Places meant to store the distressed tend to fill up quickly, so he was raised surrounded by loud noise and inconsistency. When he turned eighteen, he took his leave, never looking back, and never saying goodbye.

It’s not like they would notice. 

The kingdom of Prime is renowned for its riches and close-knit communities. Fir thinks that’s a nice way to say “overpopulated.” The kingdom itself is built on a steep mountain, drawing people in with its massive castle, shiny homes, and decorative streets. When you enter, it’s made remarkably clear you’ve been fooled. 

Below the riches held by a select few is an underbelly of people ripping themselves to pieces just to get by. As far as Fir’s concerned, that’s where he belonged. 

The Hidden Gem Inn was dingy, smelly, and should have stayed hidden, but it was the best Fir could do. It was willing to take in an eighteen-year-old without many questions, and that was Fir’s only requirement. He was provided room and board as long as he was willing to ignore the shady back alley deals. 

It wasn’t exactly a home, but it was a roof over Fir’s head, and it had been for years. 

The work isn’t too bad. He scrapes at messes, pours drinks, checks in people at all hours, and listens to the loud ramblings of drunks who never lived up to anything. Fir knows that one day, he’ll be as angry and useless as they are.

With that comforting thought, he drags the mop bucket into the back to dump it out in the alleyway. 

He’s distracted by his thoughts and self-pity, and doesn’t notice the strange blue shards strewn across the alleyway. As he drags the bucket towards a grate, he can’t feel the piercing yellow eyes on the back of his head. 

He does feel the 80-pound weight suddenly gripping his back.

Fir yelps, dropping the bucket and spilling its contents across the already filthy alley as he attempts to regain his balance.

The weight on his back is scrambling, equally as frantic as it claws its way higher up Fir’s body.

Fir can only scream as his foot hits the curb, and he’s sent falling forward. He throws his arms out wildly, bracing for impact.

The impact never comes.

The weight on his back has been lifted, replaced by a force holding him up by his shirt. Now, he can feel the air of wings flapping, the sound of a beast breathing heavily, as though it’s not meant to be exerting this much energy as it gently sets Fir down.

The moment he’s free, he’s scrambling to turn around and face what he already knows.

Sitting amid the dingy alleyway, sticking out like a sore thumb, is a shiny blue dragon. There are still scraps of the egg it hatched out of stuck to its limbs, and some sort of strange goop clinging to its scales. It’s barely tall enough to reach Fir’s waist, but there’s no mistaking it. 

A Dragon of the Waters is looking Fir right in the eyes.

The feeling is indescribable. Like a truth that Fir had implicitly known his whole life just came into existence. As if, for a second, everything in the universe lined up perfectly. 

He was chosen.

This is the worst day of his life.

The dragon bounded forward, leaping into Fir’s chest, knocking the wind straight out of him and forcing him back on the ground. 

“Nononono- you’re not bonding to me, you- you don’t know what that means,” Fir attempted to shove the beast off, but either the baby dragon was strong or Fir was weak because it did not budge. 

“I mean it, man, you’ve got the wrong guy! They- they’re gonna-” The dragon responded by aggressively sniffing Fir’s face, unwieldy claws pushing him back to the ground.

All the air is forced out of his lungs, but he doesn’t stop trying to shove the creature off of him. He needs to get out of here now , lose the baby dragon in a crowd, and live the rest of his boring life in peace. 

He has no time to implement his half-assed plan before his boss, David, slams the back door open. 

“What the FUCK is going on back- OH MY GOD,” the older man drops the bat he’d been brandishing as his eyes land on the scaly animal attempting to knead Fir’s shirt into a comfortable bed. 

“Poo- heck, David!” Fir barely manages to sit back up, forcing the dragon into his lap as he reaches out to the man who took him in. “Please! Please don’t tell anyone- It’s not even mine, I swear!” 

The beast chooses this moment to press its head under Fir’s chin, nuzzling and purring. 

David stares at him for half a second more, eyes as wide as golf balls, before pivoting to sprint back through the inn.

Fir is screwed. 

When the royal family stepped away in favor of elected officials, one of the first changes was the dragons. 

They were too wild and rampant; any individual could bond with one and do irreparable damage. They needed to be put in check.

That’s what the main claim was, anyway. 

Now, dragons are far more scarce and far less desired. 

Any individual bonded to a dragon is required to report it and pledge to the kingdom for at least two decades of service alongside the beast they’ve bonded to. Regardless of previous life goals or convictions, your purpose must be to earn the right to have the dragon you’ve been irreversibly connected to. 

He had parents once. 

Then his parents had dragons. 

The world is quieter out here as tears stream down Fir’s face, looking into the eyes of the dragon sitting in his lap. He’s vaguely aware that the backdoor has swung open again, and David is pointing at him as four guards approach. 

He doesn’t resist, but he answers no questions as they heft him off the ground. The dragon yelps and nips at their feet as they walk Fir out of the alley. Another guard herds the baby beast into a carriage, forcing Fir to follow. 

The interior is bare, the windows blocked out by fireproof fabrics, making the only light source a single eerie lamp. The dragon is sniffing its surroundings, unbothered now that Fir has joined it, the door slamming behind them. 

He’s jostled to the side as they start moving, and for the second time that day, collapses to the floor. 

The scaly snout of the dragon sniffs at his hair, pushing his shoulder with its large clawed foot. He rolls over slightly to look at the creature who is going to ruin his life. 

Dragons of the Waters are normally native to a more humid environment, equipping them with webbed feet and ridges along their back. They have thin, long, dragonfly-like wings and a longer, spiked tail. Even in the dim light, there’s a shine to its gradient of blue and white scales. Its eyes contrasted with the rest of its body, bright yellow and piercing, watching Fir in his grief. 

It tilts its head to the side, analyzing Fir just as much as Fir analyzed it. It would be cute if it hadn’t sealed his fate.

When the carriage door opens again, the sun is beginning to set. Two figures enter to drag Fir out again. Now, held up by two masked strangers, Fir can take in the view of the kingdom from way up here. 

The castle, no longer having a royal family to cater to, had been transformed into the Academy, a school designed specifically for the training of dragons and those they’ve bonded to. Nests and landing platforms were added to the towers, the walls were reinforced, and guards were hired to patrol the area. 

How cozy. 

The dragon sat itself directly on Fir’s feet, wrapping its tail around him. Despite everything, it was comforting and grounding. Ahead of him, the massive gold doors to the castle slowly opened, allowing three figures to step out, quickly strutting towards Fir. 

Their expensive clothing and confident strides give Fir the impression he should know who they are, but he’s drawing a blank.

The one Fir assumes to be their leader is a tall, brown-haired, well-dressed man. His beard is immaculately shaved, and as he approaches, Fir can smell his pricy cologne from here. One eye is covered in a bejeweled eyepatch, and Fir needs to hold back from commenting on the tackiness. It’s clear by the leather-red coat and shiny boots that he can afford to make Fir pay for sass.

Behind him, a woman stands in a dress with a similar red shade. She only has eyes for the dragon circling Fir’s legs. Beside her is a lanky young man in blue riding gear, looking tired and out of place. This person offers Fir a rye smile. 

The guards step away from Fir’s side, and everyone is left at an awkward standstill. Not sure if he’s meant to start, he leans down and strains to lift the heavy dragon, holding it out to the closest person.

“I believe this is yours! I’ll be going now,” He drops the beast, turning on a heel and sprinting towards the gate as quickly as possible. He only makes it a few steps before being intercepted by the guards returning to his side, lifting him straight off the ground, kicking and screaming. 

He’s flipped around and unceremoniously dropped beside the dragon, who is hissing at everyone who isn’t Fir. Humiliating as it might be, Fir won’t lie down and take it just yet. He looks up at the one-eyed man with nothing but pure vitriol. 

“Well, if that’s your first impression, I’m sure you’re going to have a wonderful time at the Academy,” the words spat out of the man’s mouth with equal hatred. He looks back at the figure in blue and nods towards the dragon, “Eric, deal with that.” Spurred into action, the younger figure, Eric, rushed forward with a muzzle and rope, making the creature hiss even more as he was rangled away. 

Now, the man leans down to meet Fir’s eyes, and Fir remains firm and unflinching. 

“Mary, make sure our newest student finds their way to their room safely. I have a feeling they might get lost.” He stands again, turning back to the castle. Now that the sun had set, the castle was far more intimidating than inviting. The guards return to Fir’s side, hoisting him up again and placing him back on his feet in front of the only remaining figure. Mary, he assumes.

The look on her face is indecipherable, a mix of pity and interest, if that’s even possible. She nods and turns, and Fir can do nothing but follow her towards the door.

Chapter Text

Tanner felt like he could breathe again. 

The dragon, a beautiful, dark red creature with oversized wings and twisted horns, met his gaze, and the world around them stopped. 

He knew in that exact moment that this dragon was permanently intertwined with him. 

Tanner collapsed to his knees, opening his arms, welcoming the dragon into a slightly slimy and overheated hug. 

He opens his eyes, glancing at his father for approval. His one piercing eye meets Tanner’s, and he nods slightly, turning towards the exit. 

Tanner supposes that’s the closet he’ll get to approval.

To say he’d been preparing for this day his whole life is an understatement. Tanner packs his entire room up in under an hour, all of his belongings neatly organized in a few cases. This room in his parents’ home was always a temporary arrangement. 

The Minecrafts were a family of dragon-riders, and Tanner was a Minecraft. He was older than he’d like to have been to form a bond, but it’s better late than never. Now he can start training with a dragon of his own, and he’s determined to make up for the time lost. 

This is what he was made for. 

The Academy stands above the Kingdom of Prime, almost frozen in a time long past. Every inch is carved with intricate patterns and statues, reflecting the sun across the land. Tanner is sitting in the carriage approaching what will be his real home. He is sitting across from his parents, cradling the dragon now snoring in his lap, and couldn’t be more excited. 

They slow to a stop, and Tanner shakes the dragon awake, preparing to follow his mother out of the carriage, but is halted by a strong hand on his shoulder. 

“Just a moment, Tanner,” his father’s voice is just as cold as always, “I’d like to give you a word of advice.” Slowly, Tanner returns to his seat, only catching a glimpse of his mother’s frown as the door closes. The dragon sits itself beside Tanner, tail twitching in agitation. 

Tanner understands the feeling. 

“You understand that when you step out of this carriage, all eyes will be on you?” He doesn’t dare meet his father’s eyes, bowing his head in respect. 

“Yes, Father.”

“And you understand that your actions will reflect on your Mother and I?”

“Yes, Father.” 

The hand returns heavily on Tanner’s shoulder. The movement causes the dragon beside him to shoot up in alarm, but it doesn’t dare engage against the larger man. 

“You’re my only son, Tanner. It’s my last name you carry with you, and it is you alone who represents us at this Academy. You know what is expected of you?”

Tanner swallows before finally replying, “Yes, Father.”

His room is drafty and poorly lit. Though the castle’s facade is beautiful, the interior is not as well-maintained. As Tanner opens the door, his footsteps echo across the barren space. The only furniture present is a creaky bed, a table, and a single dresser. 

It’s all Tanner’s.

It’s perfect. 

He drops his bags onto the bed, and a cloud of dust rises in the air. It’s a smell unfamiliar to Tanner, who grew up in a home that was cleaned almost obsessively; the new sensation is a welcome one. 

He lets himself rest for a few extra seconds longer than he should.

The moment passes, and he’s back out in the hallway, marching towards the stables. Upon entry, all dragons are subject to a health examination and sanitation. Tanner’s certain they’re done by now, and there’s no time to lose. 

He arrives in the stables, renamed “The Nest” now that it is the home to the dragons belonging to those who were bonded. 

And now Tanner is joining them. 

He beelines towards his mother, who’s chatting with some of the caretakers present. As they’re conversation comes to an end, she turns to greet Tanner with a warm hug. 

It’s informal and somewhat unprofessional, but Tanner can’t help but melt into it. She steps back, gripping him by the shoulders, analyzing his face. “Your father didn’t give you too much trouble, did he?” She brushes off his red jacket, straightening the formal shirt beneath. “He is always so… it’s just because he cares, you know he cares…” 

Tanner can just nod, not trusting his voice at the moment. He returns his mother's sad smile, but lightly pushes her hands away from his clothing, and clears his throat.

“The dragon? Nothing wrong with it?” 

“Oh!” She claps her hands, rushing towards one of the pens, and Tanner has to take wide steps to keep up. She opens the door, and his Dragon of the Fires leaps out, tackling Tanner to the ground. He hears his mother laughing as he attempts to right himself from the overeager animal. 

As Tanner barely manages to sit up, his mother leans down to scratch the dragon’s head. “That’s a good sign. He still likes you,” the dragon makes a pleased clicking sound. “You should find out what his name is.” 

Tanner meets its lavender eyes. 

“Yeah, I should.” 

Bonded individuals don’t simply decide a dragon’s name. It is something earned, discovered, in a way, through forming and understanding the connection between the dragon and rider. 

Tanner starts with simply getting to know the dragon. 

The Nest has a large feeding area with a variety of raw meats for the dragon’s diet. Tanner fills a bucket with one of everything and leads the dragon out to the Academy’s enclosed fields. He does his best to “tune in” to the bare emotional bond between him and the dragon as they go. He feels a vague sense of confusion and interest.

Now, in their own private space, Tanner feeds the dragon’s curiosity with each variety of meat, attempting to find its favorite. He wonders if it’s picking up on his nervousness. He knows he can’t rush a bond, but he needs to succeed as quickly as possible.

There are a lot of eyes on them. Even if the dragon didn’t sign up for that, it’s the reality of the situation. 

The dragon stops, turning to look directly at Tanner, stalking towards him, and dropping its head in his lap. 

One word sticks out in his mind.

Flare .

He smiles softly, scratching the dragon’s head. A Flare, a cry for help, a beacon of hope. 

It’s a fitting name. 

Late in the night, Tanner is unpacking his belongings. He spent every second he could with Flare, resulting in him quietly returning to the dorms as the sun set. 

It’s because he’s awake so late in the night that he hears the commotion from the hall. 

Tanner was taught to mind his business and stay where he was told to be, but couldn’t resist peeking his head out the door towards the sound. 

He is alarmed to see his mother first, leading a pair of Kingdom guards to the door beside Tanner’s. The guards are struggling against an uncooperative figure. Whoever they’re holding isn’t screaming, but is simply dragging their feet, slowing the group as a whole. 

His mother unlocks the door, holding it open for the unhelpful individual. Tanner strains as much as he can bear to catch a glimpse of them. 

They can’t be any older than Tanner, a young man with shockingly blonde hair. He is dressed in a stained grey shirt and worn black pants tucked into boots that are too big for their feet. 

It’s their face that catches Tanner off guard. It’s pure terror manifesting as rage. The guards shove him into the room, and even from his limited vision, Tanner sees his mother flinch at the harsh action. 

She leans into the room, says something Tanner cannot hear, and softly closes the door.

Before she can turn to Tanner’s room, he softly shuts his door and tiptoes towards the bed, praying his mother doesn’t hear the creaking wood as he goes. 

Tanner wakes to the chimes of bells at exactly 6 in the morning. He gets out of bed quickly, dressing in the clothes he had set out the night before. He layers a red vest atop his simple outfit, a reminder of his family. He’s out the door in minutes, not wanting to be a second late to his first meeting with his troupe. 

Each year, those who have been bonded enter the Academy and are integrated into “troupes.” This group trains, learns, lives, and works together as they work to earn their dragons.

Tanner takes a deep breath before stepping out into the courtyard, the meeting area for his specific group. He suspects there aren’t many other troupes present at the academy, as he didn’t pass a single other person on his way here. Granted, he’s up far earlier than required.

Stepping out into the courtyard, there are only two other figures present. One, Tanner recognizes as a dragon instructor, a loud man his Father had recommended. The other individual is unfamiliar. They look to be about Tanner’s age and are talking very quickly. 

Tanner slows his approach, not wanting to interrupt, but they step apart at the sound of his footsteps on cobblestone. 

“Ah! Young Mr. Minecraft,” Tanner recalls his name to be Moarf. “Eric, you’re good to go prepare the Nest, thank you,” he dismisses the other, returning his attention to Tanner. “I was certain you’d be early. I have a quick favor to ask, if you don’t mind, ” he begins, making his way towards Tanner. The young man behind him waves at Tanner and turns to leave. 

“Another person was bonded the same day as you, and they are finding their situation to be… unideal.” Tanner is now walking beside Moarf, following his lead back towards the students’ dorms. “I understand the two of you are roomed near each other. If you could ensure he makes his way into the courtyard, that would be greatly appreciated.” 

Tanner nods along, doing his best to hide his dread. If they’re talking about who he thinks they are, he’s in for a difficult conversation. 

They pause in front of the door that his mother had brought the blonde figure to the night before. Moarf sighs and leans towards Tanner, speaking softly. “He won’t be the most helpful, but you understand he must cooperate. Eventually. For now, let’s just work on routine.” Tanner nods, but looks towards the door, a little lost. 

They were chosen by a dragon, right? That’s the only reason they would be here, so why are they being so difficult? Don’t they know what an honor this is?

He shakes his head to clear his mind and steps in front of the door. Moarf pats his shoulder and continues down the hall. Tanner only hesitated for a second before knocking on the door. 

“Hello? Anyone up?” He can just barely make out the subtle creaking of floorboards, but they stop as they hear Tanner’s voice.

“I’m your neighbor, Tanner Minecraft. I’m here to take you to the courtyard to meet with everyone.” He chooses to go with the more direct approach, figuring he had nothing to hide. 

It seems he’s correct, because the door swings open.

Tanner looks down at the young man he’d seen the night before. His blonde hair is sticking out at odd angles, and he’s dressed in the same clothes he’d seen previously, though far more wrinkled. His eyes are bloodshot and bore into Tanner, despite the height difference. 

His face twists into an exaggerated smile as he looks Tanner up and down, a bold move considering their outfit. “Well, hello, your majesty, sorry to keep you waiting, but I am perfectly content in here, thank you!” He moves to slam the door, but Tanner is faster, jamming his foot in the way before it can shut. 

“About that,” Tanner pushes the door open more, “not exactly an option. Your dragon is out there; you’ll want to strengthen your bond as soon as you can.” He wanted to be reasonable, but he was also given a direct task. He can’t fail. 

The younger man backs away from the door as it opens. Tanner notes the bedroom is entirely unchanged, no additional belongings, nothing has even been sat on. The other’s eyes never leave Tanner, like if he doesn’t, Tanner will strike.

He’s not trying to scare the guy, and is a little offended, but switches approaches.“Okay, look, I need you to work with me here,” the other scoffs at this, frustrating Tanner more. “Look, do you even have a name?”

“Yes, even us poor folk can afford names,” the dickhead rolls his eyes, and Tanner definitely wants to strangle him. When Tanner doesn’t quip back at him, he awkwardly continues. 

“Fir. My name’s Fir. Now, can you go?” Fir’s confidence is wavering. Unfortunately, they’re not done yet. 

“Okay, Fir, I can’t go, because a dragon chose you, and you’re wasting an opportunity people would kill for.” He steps closer to Fir, letting the door slowly close behind him. “You were chosen. It’s an honor.” He feels a sense of déjà vu, recalling his father telling him the same thing. 

“Are- are you fucking serious?” Fir laughs, honestly laughs , in Tanner’s face, “An honor ? That’s what you think this is? They’re gonna beat us into an army and throw us at whatever conflict they want to. What an honor .” He steps forward, meeting Tanner face to face as he rants. 

He’s too close to comfort, but Tanner can’t back down now. “Yes, it’s an honor to be given room, board, training, security, and medical care in exchange for an opportunity to help the kingdom that raised you!” 

“You’re pathetic enough to sell your soul for a musty bedroom?” They’re both getting louder; anyone wandering the hallway is sure to hear them. “And here I was thinking you were some sort of heir. Maybe you’re just as sad as the rest of-”

Tanner normally doesn’t lose his cool, but in the seconds he’s known Fir, they’ve managed to press every button he had, and he can’t stop himself from rushing forward. 

He’s determined, but not violent. One hand covers Fir’s mouth so he doesn’t have to listen to him anymore, shoving him backwards against the wall. He places one hand on the wall, cushioning Fir’s head before it smacks into it. 

They’re far closer now. Close enough to see the visible rage in Fir’s eyes. Tanner is crowding over him, using his height to his advantage, yet Fir shows no fear, just glaring back at Tanner. 

“It’s not pathetic to want to fight for the safety of the Kingdom that allowed you to bond with something as incredible as a dragon . How- how can you not want that?”

He’s breathing heavily now, pressed against this stranger who refuses to back down. 

“What is wrong with you-whatever. It doesn’t matter. I need you in the courtyard, so you’re going whether you like it or not.” He waits for some kind of reaction. 

Fir licks his hand. 

He whips back, and Fir stomps one foot on his toes. His frame is deceiving because Tanner feels as though every bone in his foot has just been broken. He’s too busy reeling from the pain to stop Fir from sprinting past him and out the door. 

“Ow! You fucker, get back here!” Tanner turns to run after him, and if he weren’t in so much pain, he’d be embarrassed by his choice of words. 

Back when the kingdom was ruled by a single family line, dragons were a constant. It seemed every home had to make space for the beasts that their children would drag home one day. Without regulation and the wild world surrounding the kingdom, dragon bonding was a near-daily occurrence. 

These days, they average five in a year. 

Dragon eggs are far more scarce, and dragons guard them aggressively. The only way to bond with a dragon is to be there when it hatches. 

Only the richest families could afford that. 

There are four young adults, children of wealthy parents, standing in the courtyard now, awaiting the other lucky chosen few. 

The three of them hear Fir and Tanner coming far before they see them. The sounds of knocking furniture and shattering vases pierce the quiet air. Across the cobblestone path, a door slams open as Fir slams his shoulder into it, stumbling down the steps. 

He’s quickly followed by Tanner, whose vest had become unbuttoned at some point, who leaps from the top of the steps, launching himself at Fir, who is now screaming. 

Tanner’s tackle takes them both down, rolling over each other as they continue to fight. Tanner secures Fir face down, learning his lesson from getting kicked the first time he tackled Fir, and he was kicked in the chest. 

Tanner is kneeling on Fir’s legs and chest, and wrestles the other’s arms behind their back. They still jerk to the side, not giving up. 

So much for lack of violence. 

Confident Fir isn’t going to be able to move for a bit, Tanner acknowledges his surroundings. 

Moarf is standing a couple of yards away, mouth firmly shut. Beside him, Eric awkwardly shifts from foot to foot, looking to the side like he can’t see the pair on the ground. On Moarf’s other side, an unfamiliar man is holding his laughter back. 

A young woman stands, covering her mouth in shock, slightly hiding behind another young woman who makes direct eye contact with Tanner. She raises one eyebrow, but has no other reaction. 

Shame overwhelms Tanner’s system, his face practically glowing bright red as he scrambles off of Fir. He attempts to smooth his clothes, but thinks better of it, and bows his head. 

Fir groans, and slowly rises, barely sparing their audience a glance, and brushes off their pants. He seems relatively unharmed and unbothered by the whole ordeal, which Tanner thinks is unfair. 

“Well,” Moarf breaks the silence, “That wasn’t exactly what I had in mind, but that is a way to get our newest bonded to the courtyard.” 

Tanner doesn’t think he could form words even if he tried. His throat is dry, and he waits for the punishment to fall upon him. 

“And with that, we’ll start our introductions. I am your lead instructor, Moarf Lodman, but just Moarf is fine.” Suddenly, the group is cast in shadow. A dragon the size of a house blocks the sun from view and slowly descends into the courtyard. 

The beast is a collage of brown and green scales, with a massive jagged horn protruding from its head. Their wings tuck delicately into their form as they settle, still towering over the group. 

Tanner had the unique opportunity of being raised near dragons, so he is unfazed by this. To his credit, Fir does a good job of hiding his panic, but Tanner noticed his cautious step back. He certainly did a better job than the other young man who yelped and dodged behind Moarf as the dragon landed. Moarf just smiled. 

“And this is Driver, a Dragon of the Forests,” he gestures to the giant. “Don’t worry, he’s here to prepare you for the size your dragons will grow into.” He turns to Eric. “Your turn, sir.”

Like a windup toy suddenly spurred into action, Eric straightens up and clears his throat. “Um, yes, hello! I’m Eric, I’ve been here for a few weeks… I bonded with Fawn, a Dragon of the Clouds.” He ends abruptly and nods to the other young man, who is still staring concerned at Driver.

Moarf nudges him, pulling him back into the moment. “Oh, yeah, uh… hi, I’m CJ. I uh, bonded to a Dragon of the Wilds like… a week ago.” They shrug their shoulders, as if anyone else would know the exact date. He turns towards the shorter of the two girls in the group. 

“Hello, I’m Della. I bonded with Tanuki about a month ago. They’re a Dragon of the Light, and I am honored and excited to get to know you all.” Despite her friendly words, her eyes linger on Tanner and Fir, one eyebrow slightly raised. She nods to the other woman. 

“I’m Jaiden, Ari is my Dragon of the Winds, and we’ve also been here a month.” Short and to the point, she faces Tanner, making intense eye contact again. 

“Hello, my apologies for my, um, arrival. I am Tanner Minecraft. I arrived yesterday with Flare, a Dragon of the Fires.” He watches Moarf and Moarf alone for any reaction to his words, any twitch of the mouth that could indicate his disappointment. He reads nothing.

“Welp, I’m Fir, I don’t have a bond, so I’m not sure why I’m-” 

“That is untrue, Fir, and it would serve you well to remain honest in the walls of the academy,” Moarf interrupts Fir suddenly. It’s the loudest he’s spoken all day. “You have brought with you a Dragon of the Waters… a rare find, I must say.” Fir just grimaces. 

Moarf turns to the group as a whole, “Before you is your troupe. These are the people you will live with, eat with, work with, study with, and so on. For the next five years of training, you will be each other’s only family. Then, for the next fifteen, you will be each other’s defenders as you dedicate yourself wherever the Kingdom needs you to be.” 

His eyes land on Tanner, “It will serve you well to get along and remain in the Academy unless explicitly told otherwise.” He lowers his hand, walks to one side of Driver, and begins to climb onto the massive creature’s back. 

“I have some business to attend to, and we all know you won’t relax while I’m here, so take this day to get to know one another. Training begins 6:30 am tomorrow!” Tanner steadies his feet, avoiding being blown away as the dragon's wings flap, lifting it off the ground. 

No one speaks until Moarf clears the Academy’s wall and is out of sight. 

“So, what the fuck was that?” CJ blurts out, gesturing between Fir and Tanner. 

If he knew the headache their arguing would cause, CJ would’ve kept his mouth shut.

Chapter Text

Fir hates being right, but he’s been doing it a lot lately. 

This “troupe” has the exact kind of people he thought it would. Sheltered rich kids all grown up. They all stick together, discussing their parents’ estates and the long line of dragon-bonded they come from.

Fir wonders if they were disgusted by how bare-bones their rooms were. Fir found it to be familiar; the creaky floors and uncomfortable mattress reminded him of the orphanage where he was raised. It was nice to have a space to hide. 

He’s been doing a lot of hiding. Somewhat. Their instructor, Moarf, appears to have reconsidered requiring a fellow trainee to force him to attend classes. Now, he’s greeted by a rotating cast of guards who say nothing and won’t hesitate to use physical force. 

They meet early each morning, grab food to go, and immediately head to the Nest. There, Moarf drones on about dragon maintenance and growth, then leaves them to secure their “bonds” with both their dragons and each other. 

Fir spends this time watching. 

He notes the number of guards present in each tower, how many move across the walls, how many exit gates there are, and how often these gates open, taking note of anything he possibly can. He knows he’s garnered too much attention; he needs to lay low, but he’s not about to start making friends. 

Mr. Minecraft certainly was, though. 

Despite his rough introduction, the others have welcomed him in. Fir’s certain Tanner’s last name did a lot of the heavy lifting. You introduce yourself as a Minecraft and any violent entry can be forgiven. 

He’s a teacher’s pet during lectures, too. A part of Fir wonders why he even bothered coming to the Academy when it’s clear he learned everything ahead of time. Perhaps he wanted to boost his ego by answering every question as fast as physically possible. 

It’s during a discussion of dragon types that Fir finally snaps. 

“Now, it’s important to keep your particular dragon’s strengths and weaknesses in mind,” Moarf advises, “Dragons of the Wind are stronger fliers, and capable of making sharper turns, but are weaker while attacking. If this is the case-”

“Jaiden’s speed is best for reconnaissance and rescue, while others operate better on defense and attack,” Tanner chimes in. Beside him, Della nods along. 

“That is correct, Tanner-” Moarf continues, only to be cut off once again. 

“Why don’t you just lecture us, Mr. Minecraft? I know all of us love hearing you interrupt Moarf every three seconds,” Fir smiles stickily sweet, “Are you just waiting for us to all fan you and feed you grapes for all your hard work?”

Fir tries not to be too smug when his comment elicits a chuckle from Jaiden and Eric. Tanner’s face is a brighter shade of red than normal, and Fir thinks it’s a good look for him.

“At least I’m working on something! All you seem to do every lesson is stare at me!” Tanner jams his finger at Fir to emphasize his point. CJ does a poor job of disguising his laughter with a cough.

Fir wasn’t ogling Tanner; he was analyzing. He needed as much information as he could if he was going to get out of here. 

“Wh- What are you even- I am not doing that, you self-centered prick!” It’s a weak defense, and it’s now Fir’s turn to feel his face heat up. Tanner sees this, and their smile widens. 

“No one would blame you!” He flexes one arm, and Fir definitely doesn’t note the muscles present there. “I doubt you had many great options where you come from.” 

Fir doesn’t even have time to think before he’s stomping towards Tanner and kicking him in the groin. Tanner’s confidence crumbles as quickly as he does, and the rest of the group are too shocked to catch him.

“That’s what happens to cocky pricks where I come from.” Fir spits at him. 

Eric is patting Tanner’s back, but CJ is stepping towards Fir with clenched fists, and Fir knows a losing battle when he sees one. He nods towards Moarf, who is standing mouth agape, and escapes back to his room.

Tanner is the epitome of everything Fir hates about his home. The rich, with no experience beyond reading, act in full confidence that things will work out for them no matter what. The worst part is, things do seem to be going his way. He excels in his studies, is showered in compliments, and always seems to be the center of the group’s attention. Everything he has was handed to him, and Fir can tell he truly believes he earned it all. 

The only time his shiny facade cracks is when Fir is present. If that’s what it takes to take this guy down a few steps, Fir is more than willing to accommodate. 

This dragon-training thing seems pretty self-explanatory to Fir, so he starts chiming in on lectures before Tanner can, beating them to the punch. Moarf just seems happy that Fir isn’t biting the guards anymore, complimenting his “sudden interest.” 

From then on, lectures and demonstrations are speckled with grumbles, snickers, and arguments between Fir and Tanner. The others have learned to notice when things might turn physical and do a good job at de-escalating. 

Tanner’s obnoxious laugh can be heard, not only across the courtyard every day, but through the thin walls of their next-door rooms. Late at night, he gets no peace, having to deal with Tanner, CJ, and Della loudly arguing over… some kind of game he assumes. He covers his head with his pillow and groans. 

If he can’t sleep, he might as well be productive. 

The Academy provided Fir with some simple clothing options, which he was somewhat grateful for. He’d hate to be damned to wear his old work uniform for the next five years. 

He stands, shaking his head to clear his thoughts. He can’t think like that. He’ll be out of here way faster than five years. 

He quickly throws on a short, hooded cloak and relaces his boots. He opens the door as silently as possible and quickly heads down the hall towards the courtyard. 

Stepping out into the colder evening air, Fir feels more like himself. Upon his arrival, the guards at the nearest exit gate stand up a little straighter. Joke's on them, he’s not breaking any rules by wandering about the grounds and memorizing their routines. 

The only places the group had been so far were their dorms, the courtyard, the mess hall, and the Nest. Rather than heading down the path towards the Nest, Fir turns right, turning to the other side of the castle. He’s still surrounded by the imposing walls, but at least it’s something new. 

He rounds the corner and arrives in a clearing. A massive statue towers over Fir, surrounded by an elaborate fountain. It depicts a long, twisted dragon intertwined with an armored knight. The beast is raising the figure, who points to the sky with a sword drawn. 

“Beautiful, isn’t it?” The voice comes directly behind Fir, causing him to spin around, fists raised.

Standing a few feet away, looking up at the statue in the dim light, stands a woman dressed in a simple black dress and a deep red shawl. Fir recognizes her as the woman who led him through the Academy the night he arrived. 

“My husband commissioned this as a gift for the Academy. It’s meant to show that the dragons can make us greater than what we are, lifting us higher if we’re worthy.” Even in the darkness, Fir can see her smiling sadly. “Sometimes, I worry the wrong lesson was emphasized.” 

Fir turns back to the statue, now with a new perspective. Where the woman sees glory, Fir sees oppression. The knight isn’t just raised, it’s above Fir, greater than him. Greater than the thousands of citizens living dead-end lives in the kingdom below them. 

Fir gulps. 

“Maybe, its meaning can change. Maybe, it just needs newer eyes,” the woman’s hand drops softly on Fir’s shoulder. It’s warm against the chilly night. Fir isn’t sure what to say. 

“I’m sorry my son chased you and tackled you to get you to meet your troupe.”

That caught Fir more off guard than her arrival. “W-what?” His face shifts to bright red. “You mean- you heard about-”

“Yes, I heard Tanner tackled you on your first day, and I wanted to assure you, I taught him better than that,” she removes her hand from his shoulder as she turns back towards the courtyard. “He tends to get very, how would you say it, tunnel-visioned? On a task and gives less thought to other things.” 

“I’m sorry, your son is Tanner?” Fir is following her back towards the dormitory, desperate for more information. “Like, Minecraft Tanner? Jerk with the fire dragon Tanner?” 

The woman laughs, “Yes, I don’t believe I introduced myself. I’m Tanner’s mother, Lady of the house Minecraft,” she waves her hand at her titles, “but you can just call me Mary.” 

They make it back, standing in front of the dormitory doors. 

“Well, thanks uh- Mary. I should probably head to bed before they think I’m breaking out or something,” Fir mumbles, desperate to get away from this woman now that he knows who she is.

“That’s a good idea, they’ll add five years to your sentence if they catch you trying to escape.” 

“Wait- what?” Fir whips back around, but Mary is already halfway across the courtyard.

“Goodnight, Fir!”

Despite their size and majesty, dragons are very fickle creatures. 

That’s not something Fir has time for. 

After a four-hour lecture on scale maintenance, the group was instructed to try it themselves on their own dragons. Fir followed a few steps behind the others. 

As they approached their pens containing their dragons, he spotted their spiky heads popping up, jumping to meet with their bonded. 

All the beasts are growing rapidly and will soon need to move to a larger holding space. Tanner’s dragon, Flare, is peaking its head over the pen, sniffing at Tanner and the other dragons nearby. 

The dragon who claimed Fir is curled up tightly in the corner, yellow eyes peaking out just to glare at Fir from several feet away.

During the last few weeks of “bonding” with their steadily growing dragons, Fir had elected to monitor the others from a distance, not wanting to drop his guard. As a result, the dragon was never that excited to see him. 

The audacity . Fir had told the thing they should pick someone else, someone more enthusiastic about cleaning the grout out of claws. 

Someone worthy. 

He opens the gate and steps in, plopping himself on the floor beside the beast. The dragon just grumbles and shifts slightly. Fir glares back at it. 

Its blue scales are far duller now. Perhaps Fir paid more attention than he thought during the lecture, because he spots some sore skin on the dragon’s side, scales being ripped out too early. Moarf said something about it being a sign of stress, equivalent to ripping your hair out. 

Despite himself, a drop of shame falls through his system. He sighs, reaching into his back pocket for the scale brush Moarf had given all of them. No sense in both of them being miserable, he supposes.

The dragon yelps, smacking Fir with its tail as it quickly stands. Fir sticks his hands up, pointing to the brush, “Hey! I’m trying to help!” The dragon growls softly, tail flicking, but they slowly settle back down, wide eyes never leaving Fir. 

He reaches out again, softly brushing over the scales, scraping between them when necessary, pausing if the dragon makes a noise in discomfort. It’s a strange scenario. They’re both equally as scared of the other, and yet, they’re stuck together, irreversibly intertwined. 

Fir can feel it for a second, the bond, the connection between them, telling him how scared the dragon is. It’s gone as soon as he notices it. 

He steps back suddenly, shoving the brush back in his pocket, and speed-walking out of the Nest as quickly as he can. 

He doesn’t need to look to know Tanner is glaring at him as he passes. 

That night, Fir is pacing around his room. His brain feels wired, like it’s moving too fast to let him sleep. He’s mulling over Mary’s words about the statue, about the need for a new perspective, about her son. 

God damnit, her son. 

She seemed reasonable; it was a mystery that her son turned out the way he did. Tanner got on his nerves in ways Fir hadn’t known were possible. He made him try. He’s been attending and paying attention to classes. He’s been, God forbid, participating.

He’s distracted, but he can’t continue to let Tanner distract him. 

Unfortunately, he is very distracting. 

The room is very warm, which is strange. Normally, Fir finds the room to be a cool break from the sun. At night, it’s downright freezing. Perhaps the stress is taking a toll on him, and this is the first sign of illness.

He sighs, falling onto his bed, shutting his eyes, and trying to quiet his brain. 

It’s the silence that causes him to hear some noises next door. 

The walls are thin, and the sound is muffled, but he knows Tanner’s voice. He’s grumbling expletives, voice deeper than normal. There’s some shifting movement nearby, and Fir guesses their beds must be directly beside each other, only separated by a wall. 

The heat must be getting to him because the sound of Tanner’s voice is replaying over and over in Fir’s mind. Every inch of his skin suddenly feels electrified, and every bit of fabric is too much for him to handle. He grumbles, shucking off his shirt. 

Next door, the bed squeaks, and Tanner groans, and suddenly his pants are too agitating to have on. 

Between the stress of fearing for his life and planning an escape, personal pleasure had taken a backseat. His body must be rebelling against him from the neglect, more pent up than he’d ever been in his life.

He presses his palm against himself and shudders at the feeling. He still feels warm, and the heat increases tenfold as his hips thrust up into his hand. 

He tugs his boxers down, pulling his dick out, covering his mouth with his hand to quiet the moan pulled from his throat at the sensation. He strokes it a few times, and his eyes are already rolling back in his head, back arching up. The scratch of the blanket below him is overstimulating; every one of his senses is going haywire.

He imagines someone else atop him, grounding him back down, shielding his oversensitive body. The image alone in his mind has him speeding up his pace. He recalls all too well the feeling of a stronger body covering him, holding him down, whispering in his ear-

“Fuck you, Fir-” Tanner gasps out, just barely audible to Fir, causing him to freeze.

Is Tanner ranting about him? This late at night? Curiosity overpowers his needs, and he shifts to press one ear against the wall. 

Through the wall, Fir makes out the sound of Tanner panting as they say Fir’s name, breathing heavily.

It doesn’t take a detective to figure out what’s going on. 

He should be smug, should hold this over the other’s head that he’d jack off to someone like Fir. Someone Tanner claims to hate. 

Instead, he imagines what Tanner’s face must look like right now. Is he equally frustrated by the heat? Are his eyes closed? Is he blushing again? Is he ashamed? The more questions he has, the harder it is to hear the other over his own moans. 

The speed of his strokes increases, desperate for release now. His mind is unhelpfully playing back the feeling of Tanner pressed down on him, holding his wrists, and taunting him. With his eyes closed, he swears he feels the other’s hot breath against his ear. 

“I knew it… couldn’t resist the heir to the Minecraft fortune,” he imagines Tanner’s smug, sarcastic voice in his ear, mercilessly bringing himself closer and closer. “Hate me all you want, Fir, it’s gonna be my name on your lips.” 

The fantasy shatters as Fir finally comes, alone and overheated, moaning “Tanner” as he does. He is gasping for air, clenching one hand over his mouth, squeezing his eyes shut, and feeling tears spill from the corners of his eyes. 

It’s just him now, and the room next door is silent. 

Fir wakes up feeling groggy and sticky. There’s sharp rapping at his door, the guards no doubt here to drag him out of bed, and he sits up slowly, hair sticking out in every direction. 

He’s entirely naked, and that realization forces him to recall the events of last night. 

Now much more awake, he sprints into the bathroom, turning the shower on and hopping in, not having time to bother with the temperature. 

A cold shower would serve him well, anyway. 

He scrubs every inch of his body, like scraping his skin off will change what he did. He jumps out of the shower as quickly as he jumped in, sprinting back to his room and throwing on any clothing that doesn’t smell recently used, and tossing his cloak on top.

Fir opens the door to two very annoyed guards, who glare at his damp hair, wrinkled white shirt, and untied shoes. Whatever, he’s got no one to impress. 

“Moarf requested a council with you,” one masked figure says bluntly, pulling Fir out of the room by his shoulder. He stumbles, but regains his footing and glares at the two as they begin their march. 

They enter a section of the Academy that Fir hadn’t seen before, passing offices containing large bookshelves, ornate desks, and leather seats. Some had a few people inside chatting, despite how early it was.

Fir is shoved past one room with a familiar-looking man, furiously writing with a shiny golden pen, managing to look even angrier than when they’d first met. One eye covered in a red eye-patch, and they still manage to glance up at Fir for the brief moment he’s in their line of sight. 

If looks could kill, they would both be dead. 

Thankfully, the mysterious man’s office is not their destination. Fir is placed in front of another door, this one slightly ajar. The guards give him no direction on what action to take, so Fir elects to just open the thing and walk in. 

Sitting at the desk, framed by the early morning glow, Moarf is smiling pleasantly. His shelves hold an odd variety of hats, trinkets, dragon models, and some sort of red creature in a glass container. It’s simultaneously eclectic and homey. 

“Ah, Fir! Come on in, I have some, uh, news for you and Tanner,” Moarf’s smile seems forced as his eyes jump from Fir to Tanner, who is sitting in a chair opposite Moarf’s desk. 

Dread fills Fir’s body. Of course, Tanner would tell on him to the teacher. His dad’s certainly rich enough to ensure no matter what, Moarf takes his side. Fir’s sentence is going to be increased, all because this twit couldn’t handle one person not worshipping the ground he walks on. 

Fir closes the door, a little too harshly, and all but stomps over to the chair beside Tanner, sitting on the very edge and leaning away from the other. 

To his surprise, Tanner appears equally caught off guard at his presence, quickly recovering to roll his eyes at the other, shifting in his seat as well. 

Moarf claps his hands, “Great! Well, I uh…” Fir notes the lack of eye contact the teacher is making with either of them as they seem to search for words. “I have some news for the two of you. It’s uh, well! Think of it as a learning opportunity. One that does not normally happen this quickly, but an opportunity nonetheless!” 

Fir can tell the man is stalling, and each second he does, Fir’s stomach drops lower and lower. Tanner, ever eager to kiss up, jumps in, “Sir, if this is about my behavior, I apologize for any disruptions caused by me and uh-” he spares a frown in Fir’s direction, “my friend here.” 

Fir cocks an eyebrow at the word choice said through gritted teeth, but doesn’t interject. “If there’s anything I can do to make it up to you, I would be incredibly grateful for the opportunity.” Fir doesn’t know much about the Minecraft family, but Tanner’s manner of speech makes Fir assume he was raised by politicians. 

“No, no, that is to be expected,” Moarf assured, “Growing pains in all that, that’s not why I called you both here, I-” he pauses to take a breath. 

“I’ll just rip the band-aid off, your dragons have mated.” 

Out of all possible outcomes, Fir saw that coming the least. Tanner is shooting to his feet, and Fir follows a second after. 

“What? How! They’re… I guess they are aged enough, but-” Tanner’s hands gesture wildly, “But- Flare’s a- they’re both male, why would they?”

“Wait, why do you know the other dragon is male?” Fir knew that of course, but he couldn’t imagine why Tanner would be privy to that information. The way Tanner’s face drops clues him in. “Have you been- why would you know that?” Fir squawks at him. “Were you trying to breed our dragons?” 

The use of possessive pronouns feels wrong to Fir, but he’s unsure what else to say, too flabbergasted by Tanner’s accidental admission. 

“What? Ew, no! I’m not planning on breeding my dragon, especially this young, and especially with yours!” All hints of feigned decorum are gone as Tanner’s voice gets louder and louder, towering over Fir. 

“Oh, so they just magically got together and you just magically knew that, huh?” Fir refuses to back down, tilting his head up, stepping closer to Tanner as well. 

“No-”

“Admit it, you’re trying to sabotage-”

“I was taking care of-”

“Taking care? Taking care of what, you-”

Tanner shoves Fir by his chest, knocking him back down into his chair. Either side of him is trapped as Tanner’s hand slams down on the armrests, face inches away from his.

“I was taking care of your dragon because you wouldn’t fucking do it!” He yells, finally shutting Fir up. “Because its claws were overgrown! Because it’s a god damn Dragon of the Waters and you haven’t bothered to give it any fish! Because it’s terrified of everything! Because I’m not as fucking heartless as you!”

Tanner’s breath hits his face, needing to catch it after that yelling match. He clears his throat and sits back down in his chair, leaving Fir reeling in his. 

They both turn their attention back to Moarf, whose mouth is pressed into a line as he awkwardly taps his desk. 

“Yes, well. I, um, need to explain what this mating means for the two of you. It’s best if we all speak plainly and honestly, so keep in mind anything said here stays here.” He gives Tanner a meaningful look, but Tanner just returns the look blankly. 

Moarf nods and walks around his desk, leaning on it in front of the two. 

“When bonded dragons mate, this can cause side effects in their bonded. At this time, it’s important to develop your relationships with your dragons. Now, those dragons will be uncooperative if forcibly separated. It’s also healthy to bond with the other dragon, to assure yours.” 

Fir would like to ask what they should do if they’d like the dragons to separate, but have a feeling that it might not go over well. 

“On a more physical side, regardless of the, uh, strength of the bond,” Moarf’s eyes linger on Fir as he speaks, “there will be physical side effects as well. While your dragons are… getting to know each other, you will notice an increase in body temperature, mood swings, and sex drive. This is all perfectly normal and nothing to be embarrassed about!” 

Fir can’t believe he’s getting the dragons and the bees talk at this point in his life, from Moarf no less. 

“So, what, we’re just gonna be horny for each other whenever our dragons try to mate?” Fir asks, wanting to prompt more direct answers from the other. An excuse for what occurred the night before wouldn’t hurt either. 

Beside him, Tanner raises an eyebrow, “For each other?” 

Moarf answers quickly, “No, no, God no. You two aren’t connected by fate; there’s no overlap between you, just your dragons. Can you imagine if your dragon got to decide who you’re attracted to? That’d be chaos! I wouldn’t have met my wife!” Moarf laughs, though it’s clear he’s only trying to relieve the tension. It doesn’t work. 

“Um, anyways, no. You’ll just be a little more ornery than, well, than you both already are. No offense, this is a safe space and all that.” Tanner’s body physically reacts to the comment, flinching like he’d been hit. Fir just rolls his eyes. 

“A great way to lessen these effects is communication with your dragon. The stronger the bond, the less potent your reactions will be. This is why it’s rare and unfortunate that they mated so quickly… You haven’t had time to build that up.” 

Tanner scoffs, mumbling “Or you haven’t even tried,” under his breath. 

“I’m dismissing you from today’s lecture and ordering you to introduce yourselves to each other’s dragons, familiarizing yourselves as more of a group.” He pauses again, “And if you can manage it, please don’t be at each other’s throats the whole time.”

Tanner looks downright furious, and Fir is already formulating a plan of attack. Moarf nods, seeming pleased. 

“Tanner, if you could go move your dragons to a clear training field, Fir and I will be just a moment,” Moarf gestures towards the door, and Tanner stands obediently. His shoulder bumps Fir’s as he exits, and Moarf’s mouth twitches, but he says nothing. 

Once the door is shut, Moarf wanders to one of his shelves, pulling out a book and flipping through it. “Fir, I think you and I needed to have a chat for a while now,” he comments, but doesn’t look up. “I understand your transition has been particularly difficult.”

“Yeah, being dragged in as an unwilling participant will do that,” Fir remarks dryly, and Moarf’s head shoots up, holding the book open on a specific page. He backs up, not removing his eyes from Fir, and slowly draws the curtains. Not the most common reaction Fir’s witnessed to his sass. 

“Whoa, what’s-”

Moarf slams the book down on the desk, silencing Fir. His eyes are wide, darting around the room, looking for something, before returning to the book and pulling a paper out of it. 

“You really shouldn’t say things like that. The Academy has your best interest at heart, Fir. I give you my word.” Moarf sounds rehearsed. The paper taken from the book is a different shade than its content, more yellowed, folded, and smaller. He hands it out towards Fir. 

“Emotional aspects aside, it’s wrong to blame your dragon on this. They’re powerful creatures, dragons. It’s an incredible sacrifice to allow itself to depend on you.” His eyes are boring into Fir’s, making the hair on his arms stand up. He slowly reaches out, barely grabbing the corner of the note. Moarf nods at it, and Fir gently unfolds it. 

Scrawled in dark red ink is a short message, written out in cursive, sparing no space for detail. 

They are watching your every move. 

They need proof to get rid of you. 

Play their game. 

Give them nothing.

You can be freed.

You will need the dragon.

-M

His hands begin to shake as he rereads the message over and over again, finally looking back up at Moarf for confirmation. 

His hand is outstretched, waiting. 

Fir returns the note and watches it be tucked back into the book. His voice is scratchy, but he nods and says, “I understand. I’ll work on it, I promise.”

Moarf nods, a smile returning as he tucks the book back into place. “That’s good to hear, Fir. I can’t say my hopes are high, but please don’t kick Tanner in the dick again?”

Fir laughs, “No promises,” and exits the office. 

Things have just been made significantly more difficult. 

Chapter Text

Tanner tries to calm down as he makes his way towards the Nest. 

He honestly thought his greatest challenge when entering the Academy would be improving too quickly for the instructors to keep up. 

How could he plan for the natural disaster that was Fir?

Every day felt like that man was sent from Hell specifically to cause Tanner’s blood to boil. Any helpful addition, correct answer, or example was met with praise from Moarf and an unimpressed scowl from Fir. Then, Fir starts chiming in with answers he calls “no-brainers,” and Tanner needs to focus all his strength on not strangling the other’s neck.

If bonding with a dragon is a “no-brainer,” why wasn’t Fir doing it?

Each evening, Tanner is the last to leave the Nest. He understands alone time is also important for his bond, but he just can’t bring himself to go. Flare doesn’t mind his presence, expects nothing from him, and is eternally thrilled to see him. Where else would he go?

Their bond feels like a sort of humming in the back of his mind that he can occasionally tune into, learning Flare’s emotions or wants. He knows it’s still early, but he wants that humming to be stronger, more consistent, even when he’s far away. 

It’s during one of these later evenings that he senses a sudden pang of distress through the bond, causing him to pause the scratches he was giving, searching for Flare’s cause of panic. His dragon’s head rises, peering over the halfwalls of their enclosure at the other dragons. 

No other bonded human is present this late at night, and all the other dragons have settled down. 

Then, Tanner hears it. 

A soft hissing from the nearest enclosure develops into a yelp. Both Flare and Tanner’s heads snap towards the sound, Flare rushing towards the door of their enclosure, pacing rapidly, anxiety humming through their whole body. Tanner doesn’t hesitate to open the door. 

Flare bursts out, quickly pivoting to the pen just next to his, jumping over the low door before Tanner can even open it.

Stepping inside himself, Tanner spots the source of distress. 

Curled tightly in a ball, as if trying to disguise its size, is a ragged Dragon of the Waters. Tanner had only ever read about those specific dragons, far too rare to be spotted in person. Their eggs are hatched at the bottom of the nearest body of water, making them difficult to obtain and even harder to bond with. 

This dragon is nothing short of a miracle, and it’s been abandoned. 

Flare drops low to the ground as it approaches the other dragon, a sign of submission. The others’ spines perk up, webbed ridges on their back flaring, hissing again. Flare does not stop, but he does slow. Tanner kneels, displaying their empty hands, hoping that eases the clear anxiety.

Tanner does a quick scan of the hissing creature and finds no blood or grievous injury. They do note patches of missing or broken scales, likely ripped out by the dragon itself. 

Tanner hadn’t ever seen this dragon before, and he’d familiarized himself with all the others. There was only one person in the troupe who refused to participate with the rest.

This is Fir’s dragon. 

Flare can sense Tanner’s anger through their bond, glancing back at him, concerned. Tanner attempts to communicate reassurances, and Flare turns back to the other beast, leaving Tanner to ruminate. 

From day one, that asshole has perplexed Tanner. He showed up and immediately went on the offensive, picking fights with every person who dared to look at him, and squandering his chances of being a dragon rider. This is everything Tanner was born to be, and the same opportunity lands on this guy's plate, and all he can do is complain? Why? To be difficult?

Quickly checking his surroundings, Tanner slowly moves towards the dragon as well. Its chest was rising and falling rapidly, and Flare grumbled lowly, purring to provide comfort. 

“Hey, uh…” their horns were quite long, their snout protruding, and they had more vibrant colored scales, all male characteristics, “-man? Those scales look like they're bothering you.” Tanner slowly presented his scale brush, a gift from his Father. “I can help, I swear.”

That’s how it began. Each night, once everyone else had left, Flare and Tanner moved over to the other enclosure. The more it happened, the more the other dragon relaxed. They never calmed down enough to permit Tanner to dress his wounds, but they permitted some basic maintenance. 

That was fine, Tanner would bring the dragon some fish and clean what he could. 

Flare is much better at this than Tanner is. They’re trusted enough to curl beside the other dragon, nuzzling their face, and intertwining their tails. Tanner would find it adorable if he weren’t too busy planning Fir’s funeral. 

Now, as Tanner exits Moarf’s office, he mentally slaps himself for not realizing sooner. 

CJ and Della were chatting beside in the Nest. Tanuki, Della’s Dragon of the Light, had an expanse of reflective scales, a long tail, and nearly see-through spiny wings. The elegant animal sat, unamused, watching Dee, CJ’s Dragon of the Wild, jump around, attempting to initiate play. CJ barely acknowledged Tanner’s entrance, his eyes never leaving Della. 

Tanner makes his way towards Flare, sensing a variety of complicated emotions through their bond.

Flare is slightly embarrassed, but that is overshadowed by his pride. They peek their head out towards Tanner, ready to pounce at a moment's notice.

Tanner sighs, slowly opening the enclosure. 

Flare does a quick lap around Tanner as a greeting before sitting in front of the door containing Fir’s still unnamed dragon, Flare’s mate . 

Tanner pinches his nose, sighing again, opening that door as well. 

“Whoa, uh, I’m not sure you’re allowed to do that!” CJ calls out as Flare darts into the space. Tanner shakes his head and looks back at CJ. 

“Something… happened, so I have to take both of them out today. Fir’s meeting us,” Tanner says, hoping his voice conveys how unpleasant this is going to be for him, and how much he doesn’t want to answer any follow-up questions. 

Behind Tanner, Flare licks the other dragon’s face, unbothered by social decorum. The blue dragon grumbles, but permits the display of affection. A display that does not go unnoticed, as Della’s eyes widen in realization. 

“Oh! Oh. Oh, that’s- that is unfortunate for you,” she laughs, equally amused as she is sympathetic. Tanner does his best not to dissociate from reality in this moment, silently begging Flare to stop and get out now. 

CJ just looks around, confused, “Wait, what happened? What did you do?” Della just laughs and pats his shoulder, “I’ll tell you when you’re older.”

Tanner brings the dragons out in a training field and sits beside them awkwardly. He led them to a space surrounded by trees, wanting some seclusion. Flare bounded about, testing different patches of grass, until one was acceptable to lead his mate towards. The Dragon of the Water stretches out and lounges in the space as Flare stands guard nearby. 

It’s a small moment of silence that gives Tanner the time to process everything that happened. 

The night before, he had woken up in a cold sweat, heart pounding like he’d just run for his life. Every inch of his body is on the fritz, suddenly too warm to handle wearing clothes. 

He’d just thrown them off, thinking that would resolve the problem, but it worsened as his mind wandered to earlier that day. The group was sitting eating together, and a few yards away, Fir was pushing around his tray of food, not eating anything. 

Tanner had never noticed how sunken the other’s eyes looked until that moment. He was so used to the other going toe to toe with him, refusing to back down or show fear. 

Now, the gap between them seemed wide. The laughter around Tanner sounded more grating than it had before. All he could think about was the Dragon of the Waters, sitting dejected in the corner. Unable to eat, hissing at any approach, cowering alone.

Destiny truly picked an identical pair to bond together.

Fir glanced up, catching Tanner in the act. In an instance, his face twisted in disgust, raising one eyebrow, practically begging Tanner to start some shit. 

Something about that glare, about that defiance, stuck with Tanner. 

Now, overheated, naked, lying in his dorm, he felt his blood rush lower. 

“Pathetic,” Tanner recalls Fir calling him that the first day they’d met. Why does he remember it so vividly? 

He presses the heel of his palm against his dick, already hard without any kind of stimulation. Tanner’s face reddens as he realizes what he is about to do. 

He imagines what Fir would say, seeing him like this. Heat is practically radiating off of him, and stimulation is the only thing that can provide relief. “How many times have you done this?” Fir always had some quick, biting comment. “Touching yourself because I called you what you are?” 

Tanner groaned, slowly beginning to stroke himself, squeezing his eyes shut, but not stopping. “Fuck you, Fir,” he groans. “You’d like that too much,” He imagined Fir saying in his ear, contaminating his mind with images of Fir below him, pressed into the ground, moaning his name. 

Tanner’s breathing is picking up all too quickly. Tanner is about to come. Fir would probably laugh at how short a time he lasted, and that thought is what carries him over the edge. 

Tanner loves Flare, he truly does, but he could not have picked a worse time to pick a mate or a worse option.

He does his best to shove those thoughts out of his head. There’s nothing they can do now. He just has to power through this obstacle.

Across the field, Fir rounds a corner, glancing around suspiciously. Tanner stands, brushing off his pants, and waving Fir over. They look right and left, ensuring no one sees them as they speedwalk in Tanner’s direction. 

Classy. 

Fir stops a few feet away from him, looking even more frazzled than he had that morning. Rather than greet each other, Fir turns his attention towards their dragons. Flare’s wings spread at the sight of Fir, draping one slightly, covering the other dragon, defending it.

Fir sighs, walking towards them slowly. Tanner falls in line beside him.

“So, I guess they’ve been… hanging out,” Fir breaks the silence, sitting in front of the two. A growl begins rumbling in the back of Flare’s throat, and Fir glares at him. Behind Fir, Tanner shakes his head, and the growling stops. 

“Your dragon was lonely, and I guess Flare thought that he could… help,” Tanner says, sitting beside the other, remaining a healthy distance away. Fir just nods, which is surprising; he’d expected a snide remark on how scummy Tanner’s dragon is. 

Fir looks too exhausted to think of one. 

From beneath the other dragon’s wings, yellow eyes peered out, locking on Fir. Fir simply smiles sadly. It immediately returns to the shelter beneath Flare. 

Tanner wants to laugh, but even he can’t bring himself to kick Fir while they’re down. Instead, he reaches one hand out, lightly scratching the blue dragon’s head, coaxing him back out. 

“I know you don’t want to hear a lecture from me, but you have to get your shit together,” Tanner says, though his eyes avoid Fir. “I can only do so much; I’m not bonded to him. He does need you, whether you like it or not.”

More surprising than anything else that had happened today, Fir nods in agreement. 

“I know. He’s had just as much of a choice as I did. Which is… none,” Fir responds, slowly reaching a hand out as well. 

Fir places their hand lightly atop Tanner’s, as if he gets too close, Tanner will burn him. For a second, and only a second, their hands are touching. Slowly, slower than necessary, Tanner removes his hand, letting Fir take over the scratching. 

“I know you’re so excited to tell me about how horrible I am, but I’d appreciate it if you could hold back for one day,” Fir says quietly, worried the volume will alarm the dragon.

“I don’t think you’re horrible,” Tanner’s mouth moves faster than his mind can. “I just- I disagree with you. And you can be an asshole, but- well- I don’t know, you’re, I guess, motivating. In an asshole way.” He’s stuttering and in utter disbelief at himself, but he can’t stop himself. 

It’s the truth. Fir’s not horrible, no matter how much easier it would be if he were. Instead, Tanner has to deal with conflicting feelings .

Fir side eyes him, cocking one eyebrow, which is annoyingly attractive every time he does it. “Well, thanks, I guess. In an asshole way.” Tanner presses his mouth shut, wishing he’d done it sooner, and sits back. 

The Dragon of the Waters has now been coaxed into Fir’s lap, snoring softly. Flare is not thrilled about this arrangement and grumpily paces around the three of them. 

Once again, Fir is the only one brave enough to break the silence. “I won’t tell anyone you complimented me if you tell me how I learn my dragon’s name.” Tanner snorts at the offer. Of course, Fir cannot just ask for something; it must be some kind of bargain or deal. 

“Wish I could help, but it’s very dependent, I’m afraid,” Tanner begins, “But if I were you, I’d start with an apology. They can’t talk, but you can still get to know them.”

Fir nods, biting his lip, likely stopping himself from making fun of Tanner’s vague advice.

Tanner smiles at the gesture, and the group settles into a wary truce. 

That night, Tanner elects to turn in early, leaving Fir and his dragon in the field. Flare grumbles through their bond about this decision, but acquiesces. He drops him off at the Nest and begins his walk back towards the dorm. 

Before reaching his door, he spots a man standing in front of it, stopping Tanner in his tracks. 

His Father turns to face him. 

“Tanner,” he opens the door, “a word?” 

His Father steps in, perfectly confident that no matter what, his son will do as he’s told. 

Tanner schools his face and enters. 

Every inch of the room is now under the scrutiny of his Father’s one eye. Tanner gently shuts the door, standing by it, waiting for instruction. He knows better than to speak out of turn.

“If my understanding is correct, your dragon has already mated with another?” Tanner nods. No use in denying it. “A male? That cannot produce eggs?” His Father was never one to talk around what was bothering him. Tanner nods again, keeping his eyes glued to the floor. 

His Father stops pacing, standing in front of Tanner, only a few feet away. “This dragon’s bonded… do you know much about him?” 

Tanner shakes his head, “I know he’s named Fir, and he doesn’t want to be here.”

“Yes, Fir… I’ve been looking into things. I think it’s in our best interest that you do something about this connection.” That got Tanner to look up at his Father, confused. 

“Won’t that hurt Flare? Father, I assure you, I’m capable of dealing with Fir, I’ve already-” 

His Father’s hand is heavy on his shoulder again, and Tanner chokes on his own words. He prays he silenced himself fast enough. 

“Isn’t it strange that a nobody from nowhere just appeared at our doorstep, the same day as you, with a dragon?” His Father is speaking lowly, and Tanner gulps. 

“With everything at my disposal, I have found nothing about this person. It’s as if he simply popped into existence and irreversibly tied himself to you. To us, Tanner, don’t you get it?”

Tanner meets his Father’s eye as another hand is placed on a shoulder, caging him in. “People will go to great lengths to tear us down. You cannot forget that, not for a second. Even kindness requires a price.” 

He drops his hold and steps back, leaving Tanner to absorb all of this. His Father opens the door to leave, but pauses for a moment before adding, “I expect you to end this. For our sakes.” 

The door is closed once more, and Tanner lets himself collapse. 

That night, he’s awoken by the heat of the room once again. Panic overtakes him as his mind catches up with exactly what’s going on. The dragons are mating again, their connection is increasing, and Tanner is going to rip them apart in the morning. 

He throws his shirt off and buries his head in his hands as the heat racks through his body. 

It’s the silence that permits him to notice the strange sounds muffled by the walls. Confused, Tanner strains to hear better. 

The sound of Fir’s voice catches Tanner off guard, but the other is not speaking. He’s gasping softly, whining , as they shuffle around their room. Before Tanner has time to move away from the wall, he hears it, a soft moan. 

“T-Tanner!”

Tanner jumps away from the wall like it burned him. That can’t be what he heard; there’s no way in heaven or hell Fir is thinking about him right now. 

But Fir was the one who asked if the dragon bonding made them attracted to each other. 

Fir’s smile, his eyes, their hand touch, are suddenly overwhelming Tanner’s nervous system, and he can’t stand the warmth. 

Throwing on a random shirt and cloak, he all but sprints out of the dormitory, heading for the gardens. 

Cool night air whips around Tanner, but it’s no help. His insides are boiling, his mind is running a mile a minute. 

He runs past a gaudy statue. It depicts a man being raised by a beast, like the dragon is some sort of tool. Tanner glares at it but practically collapses in front of it, the heat bordering on painful. 

Fir can’t love him, because Fir is trying to ruin him. How or why, Tanner’s not sure, but he can’t let his guard down for a second. 

He is the only heir in the Minecraft family; he will not let them fall to ruin because some lowlife batted their eyelashes and made him do all the work. 

That’s what he tells himself anyway, repeating it in his mind like a mantra. 

The only thing it accomplishes is burning the color of Fir’s eyes into his memories. 

Chapter Text

The sun is nearly setting when Tanner makes an excuse to leave, practically dragging Flare with him. Fir is shocked his dragon isn’t protesting the situation, but takes it as a good sign. 

Once they’re out of earshot, Fir turns to look at the scaly head settled in his lap. They had grown, not as large as the other dragons, but far larger than the winged lizard he was the day they met. That feels like ages ago at this point. 

“I hope you know I’m sorry about… this,” he gestures towards himself. “I’ve been selfish. More selfish than the guy I screamed at for being selfish.” Hot shame overwhelmed him when the dragon hid underneath Flare’s wings, avoiding him. Now, looking down, the dragon’s dirty scales, scar patches, and unkept claws all jump out at Fir.

“This isn’t your fault, and I’m sorry I blamed you when we should’ve been in this together.” His hand pauses over a section of scales that overlap uncomfortably. He slowly begins to adjust them in a more pleasing display. “You don’t have to believe me, but I promise I’ll be better.”

Glancing around his surroundings, he leans closer to the dragon, whose eyes slowly open at the movement. “I’ll tell you a secret,” Fir whispers, smiling, “someone’s trying to get us out of here, and when they do, you’re never gonna have to take orders from anyone. No one will make you fight a war you don’t care about, use you for your strength, or put you on display.” The dragon grumbles happily, and Fir chuckles. 

“Yeah, it’s gonna be pretty sweet,” Fir leans back, looking up towards the stars. “I just have to get my shit together first.” 

That night, Fir recognizes the heat growing in his body and rolls his eyes. He only has himself to blame for this. If he’d been better, his dragon wouldn’t have had reason to mate with another one. At least he knows what’s happening this time and quickly throws his clothes off, grinding down onto the mattress below.

It’s only him in this room as a witness, so he closes his eyes and lets himself pretend it’s not just him stroking his cock. 

That afternoon, Tanner’s hand was beneath his, and now Fir can’t help but wonder what that size difference might feel like. How angry Tanner was, caging him in, just to relent later. The back and forth of his hand matches his mind racing, trying to pick a side to be on.

“I don’t think you're horrible,” Fir recalls Tanner admitting. He doesn’t think Tanner is horrible either. Shouldn’t he, though?

With that shameful thought in mind, Fir comes with a groan. He holds onto consciousness long enough to clean off with a cold shower. 

Fir needs to rest; he’s going to have a busy day tomorrow. 

The next morning, Fir is once again escorted by guards, but makes no verbal complaints this time. Arriving in the courtyard, Fir resists his immediate desire to stand as far away from the gathering of people as he possibly can. He stands a few feet away from Jaiden, who keeps a stony demeanor to this peculiar behavior. 

CJ, however, openly gawks at Fir’s position until Eric nudges him with his elbow. Della is explaining some game a friend of hers hosted, and how she thinks they should all join. Fir assumes the friend is another dragon bonded from a previous year, as they’re not allowed to leave the Academy, especially not for some murder-mystery party.

Tanner, surprisingly, is the last to join them. Slowly entering the courtyard, a minute after Moarf does. Fir wonders if the bags under his eyes were new, or if he just hadn’t been paying attention before. 

At his arrival, Moarf announces that today is an exciting one, as their dragons have outgrown the nest and need to be moved to larger living spaces. 

“There are a variety of large areas around the Academy available to be viewed,” Moarf explains, “So I recommend shopping around, checking in with your bond frequently until you find a space that feels right.”

Fir gulps, trying to access his fragile bond within his mind, and gets no feedback in return. 

Time for plan B. 

They make their way to the Nest, and each bonded eagerly retrieves their dragons, who just as eagerly greet them. Fir cautiously opens his door and is grateful that the Dragon of Waters is at least awake. He’s not exactly enthusiastic, but he does exit the enclosure at Fir’s request.

Beside him, Tanner’s door is barely open before Flare shoves their way out, dashing towards Fir, who barely has time to yelp and step back as Flare barrels into his mate. Regaining his balance, Fir laughs softly at the pair, glancing over at Tanner. 

Tanner just grimaces.

Suddenly, Flare freezes, perking up to look towards Tanner. The man rolls his eyes and makes his way towards the exit. Somewhat stunned, Fir quickly jogs to catch up with him. 

“Hey… we should probably find someplace nearby for them,” Fir’s voice comes out more timid than he would have liked. Why is he so nervous? It’s just Tanner. 

Tanner pulls even further ahead, not slowing down or even acknowledging Fir. The faster he walks, the quicker Fir loses his patience. Tanner navigates the Academy expertly, twisting and turning down corridors, randomly going through doors. 

He’s trying to lose Fir. 

Fir can’t let that happen, not when he just promised he’d be better. Tanner is climbing a spiral staircase, taking two steps at a time, and Fir is sprinting after him. 

Tanner steps out onto a clear balcony. It’s a platform for dragons to land on, high up in one of the Academy’s towers, with some elaborate guardrails and a few benches. 

Nowhere else to run, Fir plants himself directly in front of Tanner. The taller man is looking straight over his head, avoiding eye contact at any cost.

Each day, Fir thinks his rage has reached its peak, and somehow, Tanner always finds a way to push that limit. He snatches the collar of Tanner’s shirt, yanking him down to his level. 

“What the heck is your problem?” Now, Fir can see everything Tanner was trying to hide. 

His eyes are tinged red, and prominent bags beneath them indicate how little Tanner slept the night before. His hair is sticking out at odd angles, and a scruffy five o’clock shadow has grown on his face. Fir imagines he might be the first person to ever see a Minecraft this out of sorts.

“Why are you running away after complaining about me running away?” Fir does his best to control himself. “Why won’t you even look at me?”

Fir drags him even closer towards his face, shaking Tanner, wanting to elicit any kind of reaction he can. Tanner just lets him for a moment before straightening and gripping Fir’s wrists.

“It’s for the best that we separate our dragons,” Tanner says numbly, eyes empty and glazed over, looking but not truly seeing Fir.

“The guy training us to take care of our dragons literally said to,” Fir counters, “If this is some weird ego thing for you, I’m not playing into it. They’re-“ he emphasizes his point, waving a hand towards their dragons who were unbothered, wandering around with tails entertwined, “sticking together.”

Tanner rolls his eyes, ripping Fir’s hands off his collar. “We have the final say; they’ll get used to it.” 

“That’s stupid.” 

Now Tanner looks at him, sputtering to find the words to respond. 

“You’re the one who wanted to-“

“You’re stupid, and this is a new low for you. There's no reason to argue this; it’s dumb. Let’s just find somewhere to keep them.”

Tanner was looking at Fir like he’d just grown another head. “I thought you’d be thrilled to not be around me anymore.” Slowly, their face morphs from shock to horror, coming to some realization Fir is not privy to.

“Is this your grand plan? To- to fucking mate trap me into being around you?” Tanner seems to convince himself more and more as he continues. 

Fir is so angry that he can only laugh. “I beg your pardon?” This was the incorrect response, however, because Tanner shoves Fir back into the wall behind them. 

This spurs the previously unbothered dragons into action. Flare spreads its wings in panic, but isn’t fast enough to stop the other winged beast. 

Tanner is crowding over Fir, taller and stronger as he holds Fir’s shoulders down, chests nearly pressed together. They can hear each other breathe, see the beads of sweat forming on each other’s faces. Fir’s hands fly to Tanner’s shoulders as well, refusing to give up all of his control just yet. 

Tanner opens his mouth to say something, but never gets the chance, as he’s slammed to the side. He falls flat on his back, pinned down by Fir’s dragon growling, baring its teeth, mouth wide and ready to bite off Tanner’s face at any moment.

It would be easy for Fir to let this happen, but their dragons were far larger now than before, and the dragon’s weight alone could crush Tanner’s ribs, and something deep inside Fir panics. Without even thinking about it, Fir is dragon his dragon off Tanner, falling on his ass as he does so. Now, on the floor, with two very pissed off dragons growling at them both, Tanner and Fir catch their breath. 

“I don’t know what the heck got into you, but if I were going to use you to- I don’t know- get ahead? I’d probably be sucking up to you like everyone else,” Fir says, lying down and staring up at the clear sky.

He doesn’t know why he feels the need to prove himself to Tanner. The idea that he needs the other for something is painful enough, and now he’s assuring him. He should just take the out being handed to him, but there’s something else going on here. 

Flare placed themself between Fir’s dragon and Tanner. He’s large enough to hide Tanner from view, but his defense isn’t aggressive. The dragon’s head is bowed, submitting to Fir’s, fighting the urge to defend the human they’re bonded with and listening to their mate.

The silence is palpable. Fir sits back up, tilting their head at Flare. Rather than responding, Flare slowly stepped out of the way to reveal Tanner lying on their back and making no attempt to get back up. 

“Oh my God, we killed him,” Fir stands quickly, rushing to the other’s side, prepared to attempt some kind of CPR. 

Once he kneels beside him, though, he realizes Tanner is simply staring up at the sky as well. He looks even more like a drained husk than he did before. If they weren’t such an asshole, Fir might feel bad for them.

“I don’t know,” Tanner broke the silence. His voice is hoarse. “What will people say if they knew about this?” 

Fir isn’t sure if that question was meant for him, but he answered regardless, “Take it from me, the world is full of people yelling dumb opinions as loud as they can,” he recalls many a bar fight breaking out over nothing, “You’ll kill yourself trying to impress all of them.” 

Finally, Tanner is looking at him. Fir can’t discern what kind of look it is, pleased? Amused? Angry? He presses on, regardless.

“The point is, you want Flare to be healthy, and this is how we do it. No one outside of the Academy will have to find out anyway.”

“That is very true, Fir!”

Tanner and Fir jump at the additional voice joining them on the balcony. Moarf steps out of the staircase, smiling at both of them. “There are several cozy spaces out here, and I don’t see why anyone else would have to know the details.” 

Beside him, Fir feels Tanner stiffen, and Moarf adds, “I really mean no one, Tanner.” 

In the back of Fir’s mind, he feels a tug, some sort of internal pull to turn around. 

His dragon is sitting beside a staircase to the side of the balcony. It leads to a small enclosure, hidden from the balcony’s view. The dragon’s head tilts at Fir, tail flicking with excitement. Fir wants to laugh at how quickly the beast’s mood can change, but is too stunned that their bond is returning. 

“Well, I guess they made that choice for us,” Tanner says, nodding at Flare, who bounds over to join his partner. Tanner exhales deeply, running their hands through their hair, and Fir has to rip their eyes away. Not because he’s attracted to them, but because of some other reason.

Moarf gives them a thumbs up and informs them that the troupe is meeting back in the courtyard soon. Fir stands to follow Moarf back down the staircase, but is stopped in his tracks as a hand snatches his wrist. 

Fir turns to face Tanner and is caught off guard by the fact that he is still on the ground, on his knees, holding Fir’s wrist, head turned down. 

“I’m sorry. That was… fucked up of me to say or even imply. I don’t even know why I thought that,” his voice was clear, and despite himself, Fir was touched by the sincerity. 

The grip on his wrist was too much, and Fir pulled away. “It’s- it’s okay. I get it. I’ve said some… things when I was scared.” Was that an acceptance of Tanner, or an apology for what Fir had put him through before?

Tanner looks up at him, smiling softly. He stands slowly, brushing off his knee. “Thank you, I-” he glances over to their dragons' enclosure, “I’m glad they’re together.”

Despite himself, Fir is starting to realize how wrong he was. 

The other bonded in their troupe weren’t who he assumed they were. He was sure they had all gathered around Tanner in hopes of getting in the good graces of the Minecraft family. It was a refreshing realization to learn how much they all teased each other.

In their brief moments of downtime, the group joked with each other easily. Fir felt like he was invading an established collection of friends, so they surprised him even more when they welcomed Fir in.

Della and CJ pulled no punches when it came to bothering each other, and were an entertaining duo to witness. CJ was very loud, and Fir wasn’t sure how he hadn’t noticed sooner. Della preferred a quieter approach, which often led her to sit beside Fir during group classes. 

Eric, in Fir’s opinion, was too qualified to be here. He’s been at the Academy the longest; his dragon was the oldest and largest, and he already seemed to know everything Moarf could teach them. Unlike Tanner, he kept this knowledge to himself instead of interrupting at any second. He minded his business unless asked for help, which he gave willingly. 

Jaiden chatted with Fir about bandaging patches of skin their dragon’s ripped scales off of, because Ari had a nasty habit of hucking its scales when he was annoyed.  She held no judgment and was far more observant than she let on. It was nice to discuss dragon bonds with someone who had an equally temperamental beast.

Speaking of, his dragon was even more hesitant to socialize than Fir was. Now that they had all grown in size, the bonded had made more of an effort to introduce their dragons to each other. 

Fir deeply related to his own dragon’s panic. It would hide behind Flare when any other dragon got too close, growling when roughhousing got too intense, and climbing trees to run away when necessary.

Now that Fir was more aware of their bond, he did his best to encourage him, assuring him that he was safe. It warmed his heart to watch the dragon slowly come out of its shell, interacting with the others, playing, and bonding in their own way.

They were stuck in the waiting game. The troupe trained with their dragons as the beasts grew at an alarming rate. Any day now, they’d be saddling them up and taking to the skies. The thought filled Fir with equal amounts of excitement and dread. 

No amount of camaraderie could shake Fir from his goal. He promised to improve for his dragon, and he also swore they’d get out of here as soon as they could. They don’t deserve this. Neither of them does. 

Fir would never admit it out loud, but the thing he was most wrong about was Tanner. Never in his life had he met someone as infuriating. He’s still just as much of a smartass, feeling the need to prove to everyone that he’s smarter. Before, Fir would’ve spat out some sort of insult to get him to shut up, but now, all he sees are Tanner’s tired eyes, darting around, searching for some threat that isn’t there. 

Even now, he sees it. He searches for approval in every word he says. Needing to impress Moarf, Flare, and the troupe at all times. 

The thought of that constant self-inflicted hell stops Fir in his tracks. It’s probably driving the other insane that Fir refuses to play along.

His dragon snorts at him, clearing Fir’s thoughts. Snapping back to the present, his face flushes as he realizes he’s been staring at Tanner across the field for a solid minute. The blue-scaled dragon’s yellow eyes bore into him, and he’s never felt more called out by something so silent.

“What? You’re no one to talk,” he mumbles, refocusing on the training regimen they’re supposed to be doing. 

As their training shifted to be more physical, it was evident Tanner and the others had been training for this far longer than Fir had. Some days, he felt as though he was barely keeping up. 

Working out in the heat required a different wardrobe, so Fir was dressed further out of his comfort zone and far sweatier than he’d like. Tanner opted for a red tank top and loose grey sweats, and Fir was forced to confront the sight of the other’s bare arms as they walked together to drop off their dragons. 

The two of them certainly weren’t friends, but they weren’t nearly as hostile. Everyone else was probably relieved at the change of pace, but Fir found it made some things more awkward. Turns out when they’re not at each other’s throats, there’s not much to say. 

As they watch their now much larger dragons wander off to their shared den below the balcony, Tanner stretches his sore limbs out, groaning overdramatically. 

“Well, that was more of a workout than I expected when Moarf said we were doing ‘warmups.’ How, uh, how are you holding up?” he asked, glancing at Fir uncertainly. 

“Why? Do I look particularly weak to you?” He smiled at Tanner sarcastically, unable to resist poking at him a little more. He can’t tell if he feels satisfaction or guilt at the panicked look on Tanner’s face. 

“No! I was- I mean, it was rough for everyone, I just wanted to…” His voice tapers off. He’s been doing that a lot lately, cutting himself off mid-sentence. It somehow bothers Fir more than when Tanner’s speaking. 

“It’s cool, Tanner, just didn’t expect you to be so worried about me,” he smiles, praying it conveys what he doesn’t have the words to say.

When Tanner smiles softly, for a moment, Fir swears he feels his bond push him in the other’s direction. 

He doesn’t take the bait, exiting before he can say or think anything more about Tanner’s arms. 

It’s part of their routine now. 

Weeks pass, and each night Fir and Tanner make awkward conversation as they lead their dragons back to their shared balcony. As the beasts grow, they become too dangerous to navigate the inside of the Academy and now fly to meet their bonded humans on the balcony. This leaves them to chat as they climb the spiral staircase together. 

As time passes, the pair finds themselves staying out to talk later into the evening than necessary. 

He can feel himself growing fonder of the other against his will. The second another person witnesses them, however, they separate as quickly as possible, refusing to acknowledge the time spent together. 

After the sun had set, they meandered their way back to their dorm rooms, not in much of a rush. It’s a nice break from competing to outdo each other. Tanner is joking about some dumb thing CJ had said while trying to flirt with Della, and Fir can’t stop himself from laughing along. 

Tanner bids him a farewell, neither sure if the other deserves a “goodnight”, and they both return to their rooms. 

Waiting on the floor for Fir’s arrival is a simple sealed envelope. Glancing around for any other sign of an intruder, he cautiously picks it up and opens it. 

Your dragon is fit to be ridden.

They will tell you otherwise.

When they are watching, play along.

Meet in the training fields at midnight for private instruction.

You must fly.

Burn this after reading.

-M

The next morning, Moarf announces they will be undergoing examinations to see if they and their dragons are fit to begin flight training. 

Fir feels as though he’s going to pass out.

He knew not to trust them, to continue fighting back, but the letter shook him to his core. If it is to be trusted, this entire establishment is working to keep him locked away. 

Why? What could he have possibly done to deserve this? He was in the wrong place at the wrong time. If he hadn’t bumped into that egg, he’d still be serving drinks in a dingy corner of the Kingdom. He didn’t matter to the elites then; why would they start caring now?

He guesses the answer is within the question. He is below them, and yet he is present in their Academy, being trained alongside the children of their most powerful families. His very existence is offensive to them. 

If they would just let Fir go, they’d never have to deal with him again. 

The medical officers in charge of the dragons arrived to examine them. They poke and prod around the beasts, weighing them, measuring their wingspans, and ensuring their well-being. Fir does his best to calm his own dragon’s anxiety through his bond, but they’re not the only ones being examined. 

Moarf stands chatting casually with a few well-dressed people. One, Fir recognizes as the one-eyed man who had welcomed him so warmly to the Academy. Mary stands beside him, nodding at whatever the fourth man with blinding white hair had said. 

They are here to see if the bonded are holding up to their promise to be worthy of their dragons. Fir wants to scream.

He lines up beside Jaiden, the others already falling in place. He knows he shouldn’t have been late, but he hadn’t slept much. Reading and rereading the letter, he’d been left to pace around his small room, feeling more caged than ever. 

He’d dropped the letter off in the stove during breakfast. He’d poured over every drop of red ink enough to leave it in ashes. 

He straightens up as the group of officials approaches. He’s not even entirely sure what they’re looking for, and he assumes that’s by design. 

They stop in front of Tanner first, saying something Fir is too far away to hear. He desperately wants to make fun of the man’s absurdly stiff stance and over-the-top nods, but he assumes now would not be a good time. 

As they go down the line of students, Moarf seems to be the one informing the others of each trainee’s progress, and each conversation is short. This manages to comfort Fir very little. 

They reach Fir, and their energy immediately shifts. Mary smiles softly at Fir, but is overshadowed by the man in the eye-patch doing a terrible job of hiding his disgust. The white-haired man he hadn’t met before, is reading some paper and glancing up at Fir to confirm its information. Moarf, standing behind the group, gives Fir an awkward thumbs-up. 

“So, Fir… you don’t have a last name… okay,” the white haired man speaks up, ignoring the tension coming from everyone else. “You’re the latest member of this group… 8 months… whoa, Dragon of the Waters? How’d that happen?” 

“Um, it was just… behind my work. I don’t know why.” It sounds like a lie, and Fir’s stilted delivery is not doing him any favors, but it is the truth. The man doesn’t seem to buy it, raising an eyebrow, but moves on. 

“Well, Moarf, how's he been doing?”

Moarf clears his throat before beginning, “Fir! You had a rough start, as I’m sure many people are aware, but you’ve always been consistently on top of things, answering and asking questions, and, uh, engaging with your fellow bonded-”

“Riding off my son's coattails is not making progress, I’m afraid,” the one-eyed man’s gruff voice silences Moarf in seconds. Fir’s head snaps to him, unable to hide his shock. He begins circling Fir, like a predator about to strike.

“It is surprising… how quickly you shifted from spitting in the face of the years of legacy and sacrifice surrounding you, to-” he glances back at Moarf, “engaging with your fellow bonded, and suddenly improving. Almost as if it’s their accomplishments, and not yours.” 

“Gordon,” Mary says, sternly. “Where is this coming from?”

The man, Gordon, smiles, nodding towards Mary before turning to face Fir once again, “I do not believe you are prepared to begin training in flight until it is clear you are capable on your own, rather than holding onto others.”

Though Fir saw it coming, he still feels his stomach drop, rage building up faster than he can stop it, “And you know this how?” He steps up, not hesitating to get in the other man’s face. “You haven’t been here, Moarf has.”

Sometimes, it’s easy to tell that you should have stuck your foot in your mouth. 

Moarf’s face turned three shades paler, and the white haired man beside him cringed and backed up. Mary’s eyes are wide, and she is subtly attempting to shake her head at Fir. 

Gordon rests his hand on Fir’s shoulder. It’s Fir's last chance to back down. 

“You’re just mad I didn’t pay my way in, and I’m still kicking your son’s ass.”

A powerful punch in the gut, however, sends Fir crumbling to the ground, gasping for air. 

This certainly grabs everyone else's attention, and the weight of all the eyes on Fir keeps him from getting back up. 

Gordon kneels, grabbing Fir by the collar to drag his head back up. It takes everything in him just to focus his vision. “The only reason you’re here is because getting rid of you would be too much work. Keep being a problem, and we might just find the time.”

He stands, brushing his hands off, giving Fir a weird feeling of deja vu. “We’ll be back in a month to check in. In the meantime, you’re grounded.” He quickly turns and leaves, Mary close behind him, grabbing onto his arm and whispering something. 

That’s when it hits Fir. 

“Riding off my son's coattails.”

Fir’s head snaps to Tanner, who is staring at him, wide-eyed. He looks beyond scared, entirely frozen in time as he watches his Father leave Fir heaving on the floor. 

The Minecraft family is going to be the death of him. 

Chapter Text

For the rest of the day, Tanner can only go through the motions of being a person.

He nods along with the reports on Flare’s health. They’re doing well, growing accordingly, and he’s been approved to begin flying. Tanner should be excited, but he’s too busy reminding himself to breathe. 

In the evening, he drops Flare off early, not wanting to risk running into Fir, and returns to his room. Once the door closes, he allows himself to feel. 

His Father has always been very sure of himself. He built up their family and their fortune, managing their mining facilities and funding the Academy. 

When that man has a goal, he meets it. If that goal involves another person, he will ensure their cooperation. 

By any means necessary. 

From day one, Fir made it clear that he would not fall in line. Now, Fir has learned what happens if you’re standing in his Father’s way. 

Tanner knows the feeling. If he’s smart, this is the last time Fir will need to experience that. 

Tanner stares at the ceiling, too drained to do anything else. Alone with his thoughts, the worst bits of his past come to mind.

When he was little, Tanner would sneak out of his room at night whenever he couldn’t stop his racing mind. He’d tiptoe through extravagant hallways of the Minecraft Manor until he reached a balcony. There, he could sit and watch the dragon his mother bonded to wander about its field. 

Nova was a Dragon of the Shadows, making her nocturnal. She’d been around for Tanner’s whole life; there’s a family portrait including her, and as a child, Tanner considered her part of the family. Her dark scales reflected the night sky, and her wingspan was at least ten feet. She’d wander about her enclosure, occasionally soaring up to the roof, and watching the Kingdom below. 

Sometimes, Tanner’s mother would join her for a flight, but most days, she and his father were too busy. 

That’s why Tanner had a never-ending cycle of personal trainers and teachers disguised as “caregivers.” He’d learned not to complain about his parents’ absence, but some nights, he sees Nova pace about and can’t help but question why something as powerful as she stays stuck here. 

Now, all these years later, Tanner wanders up the winding staircases of the Academy until he reaches a high tower balcony. He sits, letting his legs swing off the platform, hoping the soothing cool air will relax him enough to sleep.

Below him, Tanner spots a dragon wandering about the training field. This is a little strange for how late at night it is, but Tanner himself stayed out into the evening with Flare before. 

What is less standard are the other two figures. Tanner watches curiously as they strap a saddle to the beast, having some sort of discussion. 

Are they training for flight? At this hour? And without supervision? Tanner assumed they were from a separate troupe, but looking closer, he quickly realizes what’s going on.

It’s Fir. 

Fir, who was banned from flight, is gearing up and equipping a saddle for his Dragon of the Waters. Fir’s blonde hair catches Tanner’s eye, even from up here. He knows the other man with him, as well. Jacob’s bright white hair makes him incredibly recognizable, even from a distance.

Tanner should report this; they’re putting themselves in danger. 

Somehow, Fir didn’t pass inspection, despite exceeding in all their classes, much to Tanner’s dismay. Even in physical training, what Fir lacked in mass he made up tenfold in resilience, refusing to quit. 

Now, even a direct command from the patriarch of the Minecraft family cannot stop Fir from continuing to fight. 

If anyone found out, he’d be harshly punished. 

If anyone found out, it would be because Tanner reported it.

Tanner returns to his room quietly, doing his best to forget what he saw. 

One side effect of Fir being grounded is that they have to train separately. Tanner hadn’t realized how much Fir had changed his experience at the Academy. Flare is having a difficult time balancing their excitement to fly with their disappointment that their mate is so far away. 

Now that there isn’t a challenge, it makes training almost boring. Almost, because he finally knows how it feels to fly off the ground, in total trust of his bond. 

They’re not permitted to get too far off the ground or be out for too long, but it is so much more than Tanner had ever dreamed. Finally, he was weightless and free from the world around him. He can hardly wait to touch the clouds. 

Despite the excitement, Tanner hadn’t been sleeping much, preferring to wander about the Academy until he was finally exhausted enough to pass out. He’s sure that he could navigate the castle blindfolded at this point.

The other side effect of Fir’s delay is that Tanner only sees him when he’s sneaking out to fly illegally. Every night, Tanner catches a glimpse of the other hovering in the training fields or lurking about with riding gear in hand. 

Tanner doesn’t make himself known, very aware of how hard Fir can kick, but he doesn’t report the offense either. 

It’s pathetic, and Tanner knows it. He knows that, despite not earning it, Fir had wormed his way into Tanner’s life, and he can’t bring himself to let him go. Maybe it’s because he’s unlike everyone else in Tanner’s life. Maybe it’s because he makes Tanner work harder. 

Or maybe it’s because Tanner’s Father hates him. 

The thought of disobeying his Father, even just by staying silent, is probably the cause of Tanner’s insomnia. 

From a distance, he gets to watch Fir whoop as he gets ahold of his dragon mid-flight, and can’t imagine ripping that away.

After a particularly rough day of stamina training, Tanner flew Flare up to their enclosure, ready to pass out the second they got back to their room. In his exhaustion, Tanner didn’t notice his mother sitting on a bench, waiting for him. She was dressed more casually than normal, and Tanner could hazard a guess as to why. 

“Your Father wanted me to tell you he’ll be gone for the next few weeks,” she said, not bothering with a greeting. “He’s looking into some concerns at the Dragon pits,” she smiled as she spoke, but it didn’t reach her eyes. 

Tanner returned his Mother’s smile and patted Flare, who made their way to their enclosure. 

“Concerns? Are the dragons alright?” He asked, trying to hide his relief that his Father wasn’t present.

“You know how… paranoid he can be. I doubt there’s any reason for the panic, but if it calms him down,” Mary shrugs, “There’s no point in telling him no.”

Tanner knows exactly what she means.

When Tanner was little, he befriended the kid who dropped off letters to the manor. Picking up the mail was one of Tanner’s early responsibilities, and the other always joked with him for the bit of time they spent together. 

When Tanner’s Father saw him smiling as he presented the letters, he forbade Tanner from ever opening the front door without another person nearby. The man claimed he could have been kidnapped and held for ransom, and couldn’t afford to let his guard down. Tanner had tried to explain that they were just being kind. 

He quickly learned not to talk back.

From then on, friends were a waste of time.

Tanner hadn’t noticed he’d been so lost in thought until his Mother gently tugged his arm. Answering her, or even listening to what she was saying, felt impossible. Her voice sounded muffled, and he barely even noticed that he sat down beside her.

Now both on the bench, Mary continued to talk about everything and nothing, tracing patterns into Tanner’s hands. She had quite a bit of practice with this. When Tanner was little, she just called it “calibration” and had made it a part of their bedtime routine. 

It took a few minutes for his mind to find his body again. 

“I’m sorry, Mom,” he manages to croak out, “I don’t know why I’m like this again.” His Mother just shushed him, brushing his hair out of his face. 

“No apology necessary, Tanner, this is what I’m here for.” Her smile was blinding, but the tears in the corners of her eyes betrayed her. 

The moment was ended by a lengthy blue dragon soaring over their heads and landing on the balcony. It stumbled a bit initially, but caught itself, shaking out its entire body, almost as if it was embarrassed.

From the staircase doorway, Fir stumbled out, much like his dragon, catching themself before making their way over to their dragon. They only paused for a second, spotting the two other people present. 

“It is nice to see you again, Fir!” Mary called out, standing up from the bench, “I’ve been very impressed with your work this week.” Fir looked confused by the compliment, but eventually nodded and thanked her. 

She turned back to Tanner again, one hand gently brushing his shoulder. “I’ll be in your Father’s office this week if you ever need me,” she said, low enough that Fir wouldn’t hear it. 

Tanner nodded and hoped his smile was convincing. She nodded to the two men and left. Tanner’s legs still felt too much like jelly to move.

Fir, who had dropped his dragon off, stood awkwardly by the bench. It occurs to Tanner that he’s probably waiting for him to leave so he can sneak off to his special practice. 

The fire of competitiveness sparks inside Tanner for the first time in a while. 

“Long time no see,” he tilts his head, gesturing to the spot next to him. Fir takes several seconds to glance at the seat and back at Tanner, debating the fastest way to get Tanner to leave.

“Well, you can thank your Father for that,” Fir says, but does sit down. 

“He shouldn’t have done that,” Tanner comments honestly. “It wasn’t fair. It just wasn’t.” Fir just hums in response, so Tanner continues. “Sometimes he’s just like that. It goes away after a bit.” 

It’s happening again. Tanner’s going out of his way to comfort Fir for no reason. 

“Yeah, I have a funny feeling that won’t work for me,” Fir replies sarcastically. “ Gordon seems pretty set on turning me into something I’m not.” 

It’s an odd phrase, but Tanner understands completely. “It’ll go away faster if you let him think he did it.” Fir glances over at him, confused. “Y’know, say what he wants to get him off your back?” 

“Why the heck would I do that when I’m not doing anything wrong?” Fir asks, cocking an eyebrow. “How am I supposed to know what he wants anyway?” 

In Tanner’s case, it was trial and error. He had guessed his way into being the man his Father wanted to be, prepared to be reprimanded at any moment. Why? Because he loved his Father, and his Father loved him. He’d sacrificed so much for his son, and Tanner needed to prove he was grateful.

He’s unsure of how to apply that to Fir’s situation.

“He’s a powerful man,” is what Tanner lands on answering. Fir seems to expect him to say more, but Tanner wants this conversation to be over as soon as possible.

“Powerful men can be very dumb,” Fir finally says, sagely. Tanner snorts, and Fir seems to take that as encouragement. “When I’m past this,” Fir gestures to the surrounding castle, “I’m getting as far from here as I can. Somewhere, powerful men don’t decide my life for me.” 

Tanner snorts again, “Yeah? And where would that be? Candyland? Right across from the Tooth Fairy’s village?” Fir shoves his shoulder, laughing as well. 

“You can’t possibly think your Father controls every inch of the Earth. You’re not that rich, Minecraft.” 

Tanner laughs, but it’s hollow. His Father doesn’t need to have the whole Earth to constantly have Tanner under his thumb. “It must be nice to play pretend Fir,” Tanner retorts. Fir just rolls his eyes. 

“What about you?” Fir asks, “What’s your plan after all of this?”

Tanner grins, “Once we’re able, I want to work in disaster relief, saving people from wreckage, preventing what we can, all that good stuff. Flare’s a big guy, and he’s fireproof, too. We could get a lot of shit done.” As Tanner thinks of that potential future, he feels his grin slowly fade. 

“But when my Father’s gone, I’ll take over the Minecraft estate. I’ll probably come back here to teach on occasion, when I’m not busy with that,” he finishes.

Tanner thinks of Nova, trapped in their backyard, not by walls, but by her loyalty. He imagines Flare in that position. 

Fir scoots a bit closer to Tanner. Their legs just barely brush against each other, but the contact sends electricity shooting through his body.

“If your Father isn’t around, no one’s going to make you run a business you don’t want,” Fir says it like it’s obvious. Like it could be that simple. “I think you could benefit from a little rebellion… if your version of rebellion is saving lives.” Fir’s eyes meet Tanner’s, and there’s a shy sort of smile on his face. 

“I’m starting to think you’re trying to be a bad influence on me, Fir,” Tanner says, blushing at Fir’s playful smirk.

The spark of competitiveness has grown into a small flame. He can’t leave this interaction with Fir thinking he’s won. Tanner stands, stretching dramatically before announcing, “You’re probably already late to your midnight-training, so I’ll be going.” 

He walks towards the exit as casually as he can. At the last second, Tanner glances back at Fir, reveling in the slack-jawed shock on his face, and winks. 

When Tanner still doesn’t report Fir’s rule-breaking, something about their interactions shifts. The nightly meetings continue, Tanner dropping Flare off as Fir picks his dragon up. Now, as they chat, Fir is less defensive. 

He’s still an asshole, that’s a given, but one that Tanner had earned the trust of. They still bicker on occasion, leaving in a huff, only to return the next evening all the same.

Tanner had missed this. It was nice to have somewhat of routine again. He had started sleeping better as well, finally quieting his brain enough to rest. 

Three weeks later, Fir is approved by Jacob and Mary to begin flight training with the rest of the troupe. Tanner finds the man’s attempts to feign ignorance amusing. Moarf runs him through the basics, and Fir nods along as if he hadn’t been caught up this whole time.

Eric calls him a natural, and Della asks him for advice on proper saddle securing techniques. CJ blames his success on beginner's luck, but that’s more out of jealousy than anything. 

He’d never say it out loud, but Tanner was relieved to have Fir back. Classes became a challenge now that they’ve returned to arguing for some imaginary first place. Jaiden even commented on Tanner’s increase in effort, complimenting his growth. Competition might actually be the best form of motivation.

One evening, after a long day of agility training, Fir joined Tanner on the bench overlooking the Kingdom. For a moment, he assumed they were both too exhausted from the workout to talk. The silence was unusually comfortable.

“You didn’t tell anyone,” Fir says calmly. 

It isn’t a question. Tanner’s grateful it isn’t, because he has no explanation. Instead, he just nods, and Fir smiles. “Softie.”

“Maybe I just want to get rid of you myself,” Tanner quipped, but there was no bite to it. Fir chuckled.

“If that’s all you want, I’ll head out whenever,” Fir was casually stretching out his legs, and Tanner wasn’t staring. “I assumed you’d make sure they never let me leave.”

“You know, almost everyone in the Kingdom would do anything to be where you are,” Tanner says, hoping his voice sounds level. They were on friendlier terms, but Fir still blatantly spat in the face of everything Tanner had trained for, and that’s not an easy thing to forget.

“They get to choose that,” Fir says, also straining to sound calm, “I didn’t. I had a life outside of this. It wasn’t great, but it was my life.” 

Tanner lets himself process this. One traitorous part of him questions the last time something was his. 

“I don’t know what I would’ve done if I didn’t bond to Flare,” Tanner admits, catching Fir off guard. “What, were you doing before this that sucked so much?”

“Worked at some rundown bar and inn. My best guess is someone there made a deal for a dragon egg, but it saw me first.” Fir answered questions Tanner was too nervous to ask about. He truly did stumble into dragon-bonding.

Fir pauses, as if mentally catching up with the conversation in real time. “Wait, what do you mean you don’t know what you’d do if you didn’t get Flare? You banked your whole life on that sliver of a chance?” 

“Guess I’m a gambling man,” Tanner tries to joke, worrying he’d revealed more than he intended to. Fir doesn’t take the bait, so Tanner awkwardly clears his throat and continues.

“I- I guess I would’ve just helped my Father run things, but this is what I was trained for,” Tanner confesses, looking down at his calloused hands. He’d memorized every textbook on dragon abilities and species, working himself to the bone. He balanced taking up the least amount of space he could with training his strength. 

He followed orders without question. Until now.

Until he couldn’t convince himself to report Fir’s late-night flying classes. Until Fir pissed him off enough to chase him around the academy. Until Fir pushed him to be louder, to joke more, to argue, to try and impress him. Until in a few months, Fir was turning him into a person Tanner himself couldn’t recognize. 

For some reason, Tanner doesn’t mind. 

The sun was beginning to set, and Tanner looked at Fir in the golden light. They were closer to each other than when they had first sat down. The light practically reflected off his blonde hair and shone in his eyes. His pink lips were slightly parted as he, too, seemed lost in thought, looking at Tanner.

“I’m sorry. That you never got to be anything else,” Fir said, barely louder than a whisper. It left Tanner’s ears ringing as if he’d screamed it. 

“I’m sorry you have to be this,” Tanner says just as quietly.

Tanner means it.

There was another side effect of Tanner and Fir being on opposing schedules. It was something they had both forgotten about, too stressed with their work to recall what their dragons do when they’re unattended at night. 

A week after their conversation, they had started walking each other back to their rooms. As they turned the corner of their hallway, Fir stumbled, clutching their stomach and bumping into a side table. Tanner reached out to steady the other, but a wave of heat crashed into him, nearly sending him crashing down as well. 

Right. Their dragons were mating.

In seconds, Tanner feels as though he’s been transported to a lava pit. Every inch of his body is screaming with irritation and need. He inhales sharply, leaning heavily against the wall. 

Fir pulls himself back up, breathing heavily. His face is flushed bright pink, and his gaze is set firmly at his feet rather than on Tanner. 

Tanner opens his mouth to say something, anything, but as he does, another wave of warmth crashes into them, and Fir is stumbling forward again.

Impulse and impulse alone force Tanner to reach out, yanking Fir back before he can hit the ground. In a moment, Fir is pressed against Tanner’s chest, and his arms are wrapped around Fir’s stomach. Tanner can feel Fir gasp as he attempts to regain his balance. 

They’re both breathing heavily, both gripping onto each other like they’ll die if they don’t. 

It’s never been this intense. 

Tanner guesses their dragons missed each other. 

“Um- I-” Fir tries to form a sentence, and instead spudders out random filler words. Tanner’s brain feels equally as melted. Neither of them moves.

“I- you have to promise not to tell anyone I asked you this,” Fir says, ducking their head as they do so. 

“Um- yeah, I promise,” Tanner says, still unsure of exactly when they should move. 

“Would you- I mean- Do you want to… just…” Fir groans, frustrated with their inability to speak, and presses back against Tanner subconsciously. Tanner gasps as they brush against his crotch. “Fuck,” Fir curses softly, ripping themself out of Tanner’s arms, turning to face him. 

“Can we just deal with this together?” Fir manages to spit out, gripping Tanner’s biceps. Now that he can see Fir’s face, the overwhelming heat increases tenfold. Fir is looking up at Tanner, face flushed, half-lidded eyes, and mouth slightly open as they pant from the heat.

All Tanner can manage is nodding eagerly and following Fir’s lead as they rush down the hall. 

Fir goes to open his door, and struggles with the key for longer than Tanner can stand. Instead, he rips his already unlocked door open, tugging Fir inside. In seconds, the door is slammed, and Tanner is pressed against him.

He leans down to Fir’s mouth, but it is halted by a hand. “Don’t- don’t, kiss my lips. Please.” Fir says, turning his head to the side, baring his neck. 

Tanner nods, hesitating, “Anything else I should know?” He holds himself back, waiting for Fir’s answer. At his pause, Fir turns back to him, surprised. 

“No, uh, that’s it, what about you?” Fir says, looking up at him. Tanner just shakes his head.

“You can do whatever you want.” It’s too honest a confession, but Tanner can’t bring himself to care. 

Fir honest to God moans in response, and all self-control is lost. 

Tanner slots his leg in between Fir’s, relishing in the gasp it elicits. Fir’s mouth is off limits, so Tanner focuses on the side of his neck. He’s careful not to make any marks that would be difficult to cover, not wanting to raise suspicions. 

Something primal inside Tanner wants to see Fir’s pale neck bearing his mark.

Their clothes are too much, it’s all too much. Tanner is grateful that the urgency is mutual as they shuck off their clothes as fast as possible. Fir falls backwards onto Tanner’s bed, kicking his boxers off his legs, and dragging Tanner down with him. 

He barely manages to catch himself, arms on either side of Fir’s head. As he looks down, he pauses for a second to commit the image to memory. Fir, beneath him, hair ary, sweating from the heat. 

The pause, however, was the wrong move and caused Fir to glare up at him. “Are you going to do something, or do you not know how?” 

Even now, it’s a competition to be won. 

Tanner presses his palm against Fir’s cock, if only to shut him up, as he leans over to the drawer of his bedside table. He snatches a small bottle of lube, dropping it back on the bed. It barely even hit the mattress before Fir was snatching it up and pouring some out on his fingers. 

In seconds, Fir is pressing a finger inside himself, his other hand wandering across his chest. Tanner’s first impulse is to just watch the show, but another wave of heat wracks his body, causing both of them to groan and lean into each other. 

He needed to touch, needed some kind of relief from the nearly unbearable warmth. He needed to hear Fir moan again, wanted it to be because of him.

God, Tanner needed Fir.

He reaches down for the base of Fir’s cock. Just brushing against it caused the other’s hips to stutter, bucking up into him. Fir stuck his wrist into his mouth, muffling the still audible noise at the pressure. 

With one hand slowly beginning to stroke Fir, he leaned forward, pressing his body over Fir as he reached to gently tug the wrist out of his mouth. Now, he could feel Fir’s rapid heartbeat, and his deep inhales as they both dealt with another wave of heat. 

“Tanner, I- fuck it- just get inside me before I-” Fir cut himself off with another shudder, their head dropped back against the pillow, revealing the perfect canvas for Tanner to get to work on. He slowly made his way from Fir’s collarbone up to his jaw with his lips, nipping at a particular spot that elicited a gasp from Fir. 

Then, it was Tanner’s turn to shudder as Fir’s fingers that were inside him moments before gripped Tanner’s cock. Fir’s legs wrap around him, dragging Tanner down to meet him. 

“Wait, are you sure you’re ready?” The air was almost too thick to breathe in, and yet, Tanner resisted the pull for a second to meet Fir’s gaze. 

Fir looks up at him with an overwhelmingly fond look. “Minecraft, don’t tell me you’re scared. Think you're gonna hurt me?” He asked, smirking despite the situation. 

“Don’t call me that right now,” Tanner bites back at the formal address. His mind is attempting to focus on Fir’s face and stop his arms from shaking. Fir laughs quietly, and the sound goes straight to Tanner’s dick. 

“God, do you always have to be so difficult?” Tanner mumbles, hips stuttering against Fir.

“No,” Fir presses himself against Tanner’s dick, “It’s a choice.”

Tanner pushes in before Fir can continue making jokes amidst their intimacy. No matter how annoying Fir is, Tanner moves slowly with caution. He truly doesn’t want to hurt him, so he elects to study Fir’s reaction, prepared to stop at any moment.

When he bottoms out, Fir’s hands grip his shoulders hard enough to bruise. Tanner hopes it does. 

They’re careful not to let their lips meet, but their gasps seem to intertwine together at the feeling of finally being connected. It’s a tight fit inside, and even without any movement, Tanner moans at the feeling. 

Every inch of his body is reaching its melting point. He worries they are both going to finish embarrassingly quickly. Even then, he doesn’t dare move until Fir tells him to. He was made to follow orders. 

“Tanner,” Fir barely managed to whisper, leaning back away from the heat. “Tanner, please .”

He doesn’t need to hear anything else.

He rolls his hips down, steadily speeding up, searching for the perfect angle that causes Fir to cry out. Every motion is punching soft gasps out of the other man, and Tanner will have them etched in his mind. 

The warmth is getting to both of them; the room is practically transformed into a sauna. Tanner gets a hand around Fir, stroking him with urgency. As if coming first is some sort of challenge he refuses to lose. 

“This whole time,” Tanner managed to get out between grunts, thrusts becoming less steady, “We could’ve just been doing this instead?” Fir barely managed to snicker before his eyes rolled back in his head.

“Tanner, I’m going to- If you don’t-” Tanner didn’t slow down, just leaned down to bite at Fir’s neck again. Fir’s dick jerks, and he nearly screams as he comes. Tanner strokes him through it as his own hips stutter. His mind is entirely blank, too overwhelmed by the heat, the tightness, and the knowledge that it was Fir he was inside. 

Still, he doesn’t let himself cross over. His thrusts are frustrated, but he won’t come without Fir’s permission.

He rolls his hips, whining at the feeling of being so close. He tries to slow himself down, if only to postpone the inevitable, but can’t bring himself to do it. 

A searing pain stretches across his back. Beneath him, Fir’s bruising grip has shifted, nails digging into Tanner. His mouth is open, whimpering, pressing their hips up against Tanner. 

“Please, please, Tanner, inside me, please !”

Tanner comes inside Fir, pleasure outmatching the warmth. He barely manages to stop himself from entirely collapsing on top of the other as they both attempt to come down from their highs. 

Tanner pulls out slowly, cringing as Fir winces below him. He drops into the small bed beside the other, watching them process what just happened. 

Their bodies are still warm, and still so close to each other, but the supernatural heat has passed. The air was cooler than when they had first burst in here.

“If dragon riding didn’t work out for you,” Fir said, catching Tanner off guard, “I think you still would’ve been just fine.” 

“Yeah?” 

“Yeah,” he rolled over, now looking directly at him. “You’re not like your Father. You adapt, instead of brute forcing your way through.”

Tanner couldn’t help but snort. “Where, exactly, is this coming from?”

“I guess, a moment of clarity,” Fir smiled softly, sitting up to return to their room. 

A great way to work off steam caused by an annoying classmate turns out to be fucking your annoying classmate. 

Now that their dragons can fly with them, classes have upticked in intensity. This resulted in Fir and Tanner’s classmate rivalry increasing accordingly. Every time trial, training course, and exercise was an opportunity to outdo the other. 

Yet, they ended each evening sitting together, looking across the Kingdom.

And if the heat got to them, they ended each night in the same bed. 

Fir and Tanner weren’t the only relationship that had evolved. Fir and Jaiden, who were less forward than the rest, tended to team up, chatting together at lunch. Occasionally, Jacob, whom Tanner learned was in a troupe three years ahead of them, also joined them during their free time.

It was practically an open secret that CJ had a crush on Della. The jury was still out on whether or not it was reciprocated, but she hadn’t shut him down yet. Eric was a less combative but equally knowledgeable friend. Tanner enjoyed their productive conversations.

Tuning into Flare’s emotions became second nature to Tanner. Somewhere, in the back of his mind, he could tap into their bond and understand Flare’s state. It’s relieving to have someone, no matter how lizard-like and destructive, permanently on his side. They fuel each other’s competitiveness, both wanting to push further, disappointed when they fall short. 

Sometimes Flare is too hard on themselves, and Tanner worries they’ve contaminated their bond with their own negative self-talk. He does his best to comfort them, and finds it’s easier to do now than before. 

Second place doesn’t sting like it used to, not when Fir laughs triumphantly. All their dragons are different, and all their skills vary, and for once, Tanner sees failure for what it is. An opportunity to learn. 

The weight of Tanner’s last name is still a constant in his life. His Father returned from whatever was keeping him, and the light in his office window always stuck out to Tanner as the troupe trained. It should be motivating, but he desperately wanted to duck out of view. 

Another evening, Fir is uncharacteristically late, so Tanner returns Flare to their den alone. He doesn’t even realize he’s waiting on the bench for Fir to arrive until the Dragon of the Waters lands beside the bench. The sight makes Tanner smile.

As Fir’s dragon bounds to reunite with his mate, Fir plops down beside Tanner, looking far more exhausted than the other. He returned Tanner’s smile, though it seemed to take great effort. 

They were fiddling with an open letter, absentmindedly circling their fingers over the broken red seal. Tanner guessed its contents made Fir tardy for their unofficial meeting. His eyes looked glossy as he observed the horizon. 

“You still want to leave.”

Tanner stated the fact, breaking Fir out of whatever trance he put himself in. It hurts, but Tanner knows that no matter how much they learn and grow together, Fir is always going to remain seconds away from running out of Tanner’s life. 

“What, you gonna narc on me, Minecraft?” Fir asks, the joking tone not matching the serious look on his face. Tanner hates it when Fir only refers to him by his surname. Fir knows this fact and has elected to use it to get under Tanner’s skin. 

“No, everyone already knows that. I just, I thought..” Tanner trails off, not exactly sure how to organize exactly what he thought. That he could change Fir’s mind? That he wanted to see Fir in action? That he wanted to fight beside him rather than against him?

“I guess I wanted to know why? You’re… you’re clearing doing well for yourself here.” Tanner lands on flattery, trying to keep his sentences short before everything comes out at once. 

Fir scoffs at the question, dramatically rolling his eyes to glare at Tanner. He raises one eyebrow, as if Tanner were pulling his leg. God, this man is infuriating.

“Don’t just fucking glare at me, I’m actually asking!” Tanner huffs, standing up from the bench, “If you’re just gonna be a dick about it-”

Fir’s hand wraps around his wrist, tight. Almost as tight as his grip on Tanner’s shoulders during their late nights together. The action stops Tanner instantly, looking to Fir for direction. Fir gently tugs him back to the bench, seated beside him, but closer now. 

“I’m sorry. Really. I just didn’t think you wanted to know my opinion.” Fir admits. The sentence wounds Tanner. “It’s not an honor to me. When you called it that, I just…” He exhales, turning away from Tanner and towards the setting sun. 

“This Kingdom didn’t protect me. It never has. My dragon didn’t ask to be claimed; it was taken from its home. Then, at the same time, everyone’s pissed I’m here.” Tanner opens his mouth to object, and Fir pats his thigh to keep him quiet. Tanner does as he’s told.

“No matter how well I do, they will fail me. They will drag me through the dirt, give me some position no one else wants, and drop me the second they can. I have no family to fight for me, and nowhere to go.” 

Fir’s voice is neutral, holding their rage back for Tanner’s sake. He’s grateful for it.

“Only the worthy can have dragons. And only the wealthy get the chance to be bonded to one. That’s a pretty cut-and-dry lesson.” Fir concludes.

The rich are worthy.

Tanner is worthy.

Fir isn’t.

“You… you’re everything they’re scared of,” Tanner says, looking at Fir’s face in the light. Fir is still analyzing the world below them, but Tanner can’t seem to pull his focus away. “You have no last name, and you’re kicking our asses.”

Fir snorts. “It’s good to know you can admit it.”

“My Father is scared of you,” Tanner recalls the man’s harsh warning to distance himself from Fir. He’s been disobedient. “I’m meant to be more cautious than this. Anyone could be using me for my family’s fortune.”

“Your family’s fortune comes with a ball and chain keeping me here, Tanner.” Fir casually lounges back on the bench, smiling at Tanner once again. It’s blinding.

“I know that, but I-”

“Can’t imagine someone could just like you?” Fir's smile softens. Tanner feels as though a rock is stuck in his throat. Fir’s hand drops beside Tanner’s, resting casually on the bench. “It’s a lonely life. Thinking everyone’s out to get you.” 

“I think I’m starting to see that now.” Tanner shifts his hand to rest on top of Fir’s. For a moment, the world fits into place. The gentle touch is electric. Tanner’s heart seems to want to pull him closer, wants to touch more, wants to keep Fir’s gaze locked on him. 

The trance is broken, as Fir looks down at the letter, now crumpled in the hand Tanner’s not holding. Fir sighs, standing and turning away from Tanner, dropping his hand. The sun dips past the horizon, and the darkness is jarring. 

“Sometime next month, the Academy is planning some sort of ‘pop quiz.’ If I don’t pass, they're going to extend my training. They’ll move me to a younger troupe.” Fir speaks quickly, not facing Tanner at all. 

“What? How do you-” Tanner stands as well, one hand on Fir’s shoulder, begging him to turn around. 

“Tanner, I can’t tell you everything, but there are people here who want to help. They’ve been warning me, advising me, I-” 

Tanner’s mind is running a mile a minute. He recalls Jacob teaching Fir basic flight in the early morning hours. Recalls Fir being held back after class by Moarf. From day one, Fir was peaking around corners and glancing around rooms, looking for escape, and Tanner wasn’t the only one who noticed. 

“You’re actually going to do it. You’re going to- to run away,” Tanner says, wishing Fir would turn around.

Fir sighs, defeated, and finally turns to face Tanner. His eyes scrape over every inch of Fir, and he finds the same defiance he always had, but now, there’s some remorse in Fir’s eyes. 

“Yes. Eventually.” 

Tanner feels a pit of dread open deep inside him. A dread that everything is going to go very wrong very quickly. Escaping the Academy is unheard of. The punishment, especially for someone like Fir, would be harsh. 

“Tell me how I can help.”

His Father would be so disappointed in him. 

Chapter Text

Tanner believed him. 

Fir is lying in his creaky bed, contemplating this. Mulling it over like it will reveal some hidden truth, some larger plan that the heir of the Minecraft estate had in mind for him. 

He’s seen a lot from Tanner these last few weeks—more than he could have possibly imagined. 

They’re just convenient for each other. Their rage and banter add spice to their relationship that Fir couldn’t achieve with anyone else. 

That’s what he tells himself anyway. Until Tanner is going against everything he was raised to be, just for the chance to assist Fir in his convoluted quest for freedom. That feels like a step above convenient .

Fir’s following the letters blindly, burning each of them as he does. One warns him that they shouldn’t eat any food given to them, unless it’s prepackaged. Another contained quiz answers for a survey given to them. 

Some were shorter, almost fun facts, like, “Dragons of the Water can manipulate the temperature around them,” or “Training field seven is less visible from the Academy than the others.” Helpful, yet ominous. 

It all gave Fir the false confidence that he was the one in control. Even trapped and guarded on all sides, Fir had information that could assist him. He wasn’t alone. 

Then, he worries about the anonymous informant. At first, he assumed it was Moarf; the “M” signing off each note felt a little on the nose, and Moarf was the first one to deliver a note. However, Jacob was the one who met him at night, risking his standing in the academy to train Fir. 

Next, Jaiden was guarding Fir’s door, preventing a pair of guards from entering while Fir wasn’t there. When Fir asked her about it, she shrugged silently and handed him another letter. 

All the assistance should have made Fir more confident, but instead it increased his paranoia. It felt like he had woken up trapped in someone else’s game, an unwilling participant who hadn’t learned the rules. 

Maybe that’s why Fir told Tanner. Secrecy was being demanded of him, but Fir was nothing if not a contrarian. No one would have him entirely cooperative. 

Tanner’s a good ally to have. He plays his part to perfection, drawing the attention of others, pulling them away from Fir when necessary. It’s like he constantly has someone in his corner, silently checking in on Fir with glances and subtle head tilts. He places himself in front of Fir when others get too close, but still maintains the facade of their “rivalry.” 

They’re both scared, both paranoid for different reasons, and yet, for the first time in their lives, they’re not alone. 

Tanner’s Father, Gordon, was more present the last few weeks than ever before. He would watch them from above, on balconies, through the window of his office, or observing from one of several towers. Regardless of where he was, Fir could feel his glare.

Tanner seemed more on edge as well, eyes darting towards his Father when he thought no one was looking. Fir had watched this man leap from ill-advised heights, recklessly challenge others, run headlong into problems, and execute a variety of poorly thought-out plans. 

Fir had never seen him more afraid than when Gordon Minecraft approached the group, marching across the training field, tailed by his wife, Mary. 

Moarf calls out for the troupe to dismount. They stand beside their dragons, and Fir can’t help but nervously shift from foot to foot. The last time this happened, he got punched in the gut. Now, he meets Gordon’s one eye, defiant.

The air is thick with tension. It’s silent enough for Fir to hear Tanner gulp. 

There’s an awkward thirty seconds in which both parties stand across from each other and say nothing. The man in red finally sighs deeply, visibly changing their demeanor to address the group. 

“I’ve heard good things about your progress. I’m honored to announce that you will have the opportunity to prove this. A week from today, you will all participate in a series of tests that will determine your next step in training and prove your worth to the Academy and the Kingdom.”

Fir has to hand it to him, he’s a good liar. His tone of voice was meant to ease the group and make the series of tests seem like an exciting occasion. Fir saw it for what it was, an elaborate speedbump. Just another loophole to keep him grounded.

Wanting to keep his cards close to his chest, Fir just smiles and joins in on the delighted murmurings passing through the group. If only Gordon knew just how many steps ahead Fir was, and what he was willing to do to make that man’s life hell.

Beside him, Tanner shifted uncomfortably, reminding Fir of another card he had up his sleeve. 

Or, maybe, another roadblock.

Fir needed to hold firm. The first step was escaping. The second step of returning for Tanner was only hypothetical. 

Fir wasn’t sure when his plans for the future started including Tanner, but it was starting to worry him..

Later in the evening, Fir is pacing around the balcony beside their dragon. His mind is running faster than he can catch it as he attempts to memorize each and every guard’s movements.

Through his bond, Fir can sense his dragon’s equal agitation. The closer the two had gotten, the more Fir feared his anxieties were infecting the beast’s. Perhaps, they were just destined to find each other and catastrophize together.

Fir’s too deep in his thoughts to notice Flare landing behind him. 

He does notice the hand gently touching his shoulder. 

In times when one must resort to fight or flight, Fir always seems to default to fight. 

Whipping around, Fir snatches the assailant's arm, yanking them forward, and sweeping their legs, knocking them down. He twists the arm behind the back of the other figure, pinning them to the ground as they drop. Fir presses a knee onto them, entirely cutting off any possible movement.

“Fir! What the actual fuck!” The squirming man below calls out, and Fir realizes exactly who he just body slammed.

“Don’t sneak up on me like that!” Fir shouts, trying to cover his embarrassment, reaching to help Tanner back up. 

“I landed on an eight-foot dragon; we aren’t exactly stealthy,” Tanner says, gesturing back at Flare, who towers over Fir even while sitting. The dragon tilts his head at Fir, amused.

“I guess my mind was just… somewhere else.” Fir turns his gaze to the setting sun. It’s late, and he should be turning in. It’s not like he’s accomplishing anything out here.

“Well, hey,” Tanner’s hand returns to Fir’s arm, and isn’t met with an attack this time. His other hand moves far slower, resting delicately on Fir’s waist, so light Fir can barely feel it. “We can get your mind off things. I- Flare’s wants to fly together.” Tanner’s voice is confident, but Fir can’t mistake the light blush on his cheeks.

“Well, if that’s what Flare wants,” Fir’s hand meets the one placed on his side, just for a moment, before casually stepping past the other and out of reach. “We'd better not keep the monster waiting.”

Flare stands on his haunches, bowing to Fir at his approach. It makes him laugh and scratch the scales behind one of Flare’s protruding horns. Always a gentleman.

Fir glances back at Tanner, who looks too stunned to move for a moment. They manage to recover quickly, sauntering over with all a confidence Fir is starting to realize is a facade. 

Fir’s dragon has emerged now, sensing Fir’s call through their bond. They lazily stretch their wings, unenthusiastic but present. Flare is pacing around them, not matching their energy whatsoever. 

“Shall we?” Tanner asks, climbing aboard. Fir follows suit, and they’re off.

To avoid being spotted by the rotation of guards on the Academy’s walls, they need to stay near the ground. They fly recklessly, doing laps through the training fields, dodging trees and obstacles, and attempting to quiet their laughter. 

There is no feeling quite like it. Whipping around corners, leaning into turns, rising and falling, gliding and spinning. It’s a beautiful dance, and it’s become second nature to Fir. 

When he had been learning behind the Academy’s back, Jacob had only trained him in the basics of balance and flight. Now, he was free to push further than he ever could have imagined.

Despite his dragon’s coy demeanor, Fir can sense the competitive fire inside them. They want to move faster, higher, and riskier whenever possible. Instinctually, they’re attempting to show off for Flare, flexing their strength for their mate as a sort of courting ritual.

Initially, Fir rolled his eyes at this, chalking it up as cute but unnecessary. Then, he caught a glimpse of Tanner’s face as they passed him mid-flight. 

No one had ever looked at Fir in awe before. It was pure, unfiltered astonishment and pride. It causes Fir’s heart to soar. 

His dragon smacks his leg with one of its two sets of wings, and Fir snaps his gaze forward.

Despite his size, Flare is agile, never falling too far behind. They can even be crafty at times, strategic about when they choose to pass. 

All of Tanner’s movements are exact and rehearsed, whereas Fir’s are improvised and unpredictable.

If he wanted to play dirty, Fir would have weaved through the trees lower to the ground, something Flare’s bulkiness would not permit. However, they’ve already been at this for hours, and Fir didn’t trust himself to react fast enough. 

The Dragon of the Waters lands, perched atop a large tree in one of the training fields. Flare analyzes the area and elects to hover beside his mate rather than risk snapping a tree in half. 

Tanner is laughing heartily, out of breath and red-faced, and the sound is soothing Fir’s anxieties. For once, they’re not laughing at each other. 

“If you fly like that, even my Father can’t deny your skill,” Tanner says while idly scratching Flare’s neck. “You’d probably dominate the racing tournaments if you wanted to.” He looks back up at Fir; his eyes shining in the moonlight.

“Thanks. You guys were okay, I guess,” Fir says dryly, praying the dim lighting hides his glowing cheeks. Tanner just snorts and adjusts to take off back towards their balcony. Fir doesn’t hesitate to follow. 

Another evening, they take their sweet time wandering back to their rooms. So long, they might end up watching the sunrise together.

Fir can’t seem to rip himself away from Tanner. Not when he knows what his laugh is like. Not when he knows there’s nothing he can’t tell him. Not when he’s finally walking side by side with someone who has seen all of him and chooses to be beside him.

Before he lost control of his life and found the egg, Fir had done his best to keep to himself. The other children in the orphanage were louder and stronger, so he didn’t bother fighting for attention. When he got out, he found that being alone made him less vulnerable. There’s less risk that way.

Even with his lack of experience, Fir imagines this is what a first date feels like. Standing awkwardly outside their doors, unsure of how to say goodnight.

Not wanting to leave.

Not yet, at least.

Tanner clears his throat, glancing at the doorknob, but not opening it.

“Y’know, I’d be willing to bet Flare and their mate are gonna… You know,” Tanner said bashfully. This had happened a few times over the weeks, and yet neither of them knew how to say it.

“Oh. Yeah, probably. Are you- should we?” Fir wasn’t sure what he was asking, but prayed the answer was yes. 

Tanner opens the door to his room.“Yeah, I mean. We could just save time,” Tanner mumbles.

It’s an excuse. Deep down, Fir knows it’s an excuse. They’ve only ever crossed the threshold of each other’s rooms when the heat was overwhelming them both. 

But he agreed, didn’t he?

It’s different, being able to move as slowly as he wants. He presses himself against Tanner, in no hurry. Tanner always seemed to enjoy attacking Fir’s neck with kisses and bites, but was careful to do so sparingly. He plays dumb during the day, but Fir has noticed the man’s eyes raking over him.

If he stretches his neck when he feels Tanner looking, that’s his business. 

There’s no need to hold back his soft gasps as Tanner’s lips trail down his jaw. One hand slides beneath Fir’s shirt. The pressure on his abdomen is comforting. 

Tanner didn’t question or push back on Fir’s request not to kiss his lips. It was a dumb requirement; Fir just couldn’t stand the idea of them kissing . For some reason, a kiss was a step above sex when it came to intimacy in his mind. 

He doesn’t let himself dwell on whether or not that desire has changed. 

Fir wraps an arm around Tanner’s back, running one hand through their dark, unkept hair, encouraging Tanner to keep going. His other hand starts to slowly unbutton Tanner’s expensive vest.

There’s no hurry. The heat building in Fir’s body is not coming from any supernatural means. 

Tanner’s teeth graze his collarbone, and Fir ruts his hips against Tanner’s. The taller lets out a deep grunt, matching Fir’s movement. A bit of Fir preens with the knowledge that he has this effect on the other. 

Despite how much he wants it, Tanner always hesitates, wanting to ensure Fir’s consent for every movement. It should be frustrating, but Fir finds it sweet. Once that god awful red vest is on the floor, Fir snatches the hand still pressed under his shirt, leading it higher. 

Tanner takes the cue, running his fingers across Fir’s chest. Even now, the touch makes him shiver. Fir sighs fondly, letting his head fall back for a moment, dragging Tanner with him and towards his bed. 

He doesn’t think he’ll ever get used to this. These moments feel surreal to Fir, as he’s being held by Tanner. The heavy weight on top of him is a welcome one.

Fir lies back, letting Tanner finally tug off both their shirts. He keeps waiting for the waves of heat to come, a telltale sign of their dragon’s bond, but it doesn’t. The lack of forced proximity makes every touch, every gasp, every bruise added to his chest feel all the more tangible. 

Fir’s isn’t sure why that thought makes his eyes well up, but Tanner picks up on it before he does. 

“What’s wrong?” Tanner asks, stopping everything in a moment, leaning back to look at Fir’s face. “Are you okay?”

The earnestness makes Fir choke out a laugh while a few tears drop from his eyes. “Nothing, nothing's wrong, I’m just happy.”

Tanner’s face morphed from panic to confusion to bemusement. Slowly, he reaches one hand to the side of Fir’s face, softly wiping the teardrops away. Fir laughs again, at himself for being so emotional, and also at Tanner for taking it so seriously. 

Fir’s laughter is stifled as Tanner leans down and slides their hands down to Fir’s hips. This pulls Fir to the edge of the bed and presses him against Tanner’s dick. 

“Tanner-” Fir says breathlessly. “Tanner, can I-” Tanner ruts against him again, and Fir is moaning before he can finish his sentence. His hips stutter mindlessly against Tanner for a second before regaining their ability to speak.

“Yes?” Tanner asked, too smug for Fir’s taste. 

“Fuck you, let me get on top.” Fir’s legs wrapped around Tanner, attempting to pull him down. He caught himself, holding himself above Fir, faces inches apart. His eyes were blown out, his face more flushed than Fir’s ever seen it. 

“Okay. Okay, yeah,” Tanner agreed, and nearly ripped his pants off to speed up the process. 

As they shift, Fir throws his own pants off, helping himself to the drawer in Tanner’s side table, grabbing a familiar bottle of lube stored there. Tanner situates himself against the headboard, and Fir straddles them, caging them in with his legs.

Before Fir can even open the bottle and start preparing himself, Tanner’s hand meets his.

“Can I do it? Please?” Tanner asks, no, begs .

Fir blushes furiously, ducking his head. “You don’t have to.” 

“I know. I want to.”

And that was it, wasn’t it? 

That was the reason they were doing this. The reason Tanner was rebelling against his Father. The reason Fir nodded furiously at Tanner’s request.

They wanted to.

Tanner’s more careful than Fir is. Normally, at this point in their meetings, the heat is driving them both to the brink of insanity, and Fir rushes any prep to get to the good part. 

Now, Tanner’s fingers stretch him out like they have nothing but time. Fir muffles his sharp inhales by kissing Tanner’s shoulders, holding on for dear life as he’s slowly opened up. 

Rough and fast is something Fir can handle. Tanner’s gentleness and sincerity are sending him closer to the edge faster than anything they’d done before. The knowledge that this means something to them both causes Fir to whimper.

He can’t wait a second longer and reaches for Tanner’s wrist, pulling the other man’s long fingers out of himself. He retrieves the discarded lube bottle, quickly stroking Tanner’s cock, and maintaining eye contact as he does. 

He adores watching the man who effortlessly commands rooms, crumpling at Fir’s touch. Tanner’s face is bright red and surely hot to the touch. His half-lidded eyes can barely focus on Fir’s, his lips parted and panting softly. 

Fir takes a deep breath before sinking onto Tanner’s cock. The stretch still burns slightly, despite Tanner’s best efforts, but Fir wouldn’t have it any other way. Tanner’s hands grip the sheets beneath them like a lifeline, not sure if they’re allowed to touch yet.

“Fuck, Fir , can I? Please?” Tanner’s voice is strained, but Fir understands implicitly. As he works his way down, he moves Tanner’s hands to grip his waist. The grip is harsh enough to bruise, and Fir almost wants it to. 

Patience is wearing thin. He needs to start moving as soon as he can. Even though it hurts, Fir lifts himself back up, dropping down harshly onto Tanner’s cock. 

Both of their moans intertwine, and the sound encourages Fir to speed up, continuing to drop down harshly, wrapping one hand around his own neglected cock. 

“Fir, I’m going to- inside-” the desperation in Tanner’s voice is going to give Fir an ego. He smiles, clenching down as he caresses Tanner’s face, making him unable to look anywhere other than at Fir. 

The orgasm shakes through them both, and Fir continues to ride out the last of Tanner’s trembles, speeding up his strokes, desperate for his own release. 

Only when Tanner’s calloused hand wraps around his dick does Fir finally let go. 

He holds onto Tanner, nails digging into the other man’s back as he loses control of himself. He doesn’t want the moment to end. 

They’re both slowly returning to reality, coming down from their highs. Only then does it occur to Fir that their dragon’s bond never came into play, despite it being the initial excuse. The realization causes Fir to blush more than any of their activities. 

Pulling out is not his favorite part; he cringes at the feeling of Tanner’s cum leaving his body. Once he’s entirely out, however, a pair of fingers is pushing the leaking substance back into him, making Fir gasp and jolt forward suddenly. 

“Sorry, I just- I don’t know why I-,” Tanner apologizes, quickly removing his fingers as soon as they entered. 

Did they even notice what they were doing, or did they just act without thinking?

“It’s okay, I should-” Fir starts, mentally preparing himself to attempt to stand on shaky legs.

“Stay. Please, stay. For now,” Tanner’s voice is urgent. Like Fir will disappear in seconds. 

One hand is casually running up and down the small of Fir’s back, and the action prevents Fir from having a clear head. 

“Okay.”

Turns out that Tanner leaves his blinds open when he sleeps. The soft light is enough to wake Fir up. He’d never been that deep of a sleeper, and that’s why he always blocks his window.

But he’s not in his room.

They’d never stayed the night together. Once the heat of the dragon bonds cooled down, the pair would make their exit to their rooms to clean up and go to bed alone. Now, Fir feels the rise and fall of Tanner’s chest below him, the man’s hand is loosely wrapped around his waist, and the soft snores tickling his hair. 

It’s calm. After months of constant stress, training, fear, and arguments, Fir drinks in the silence like it’s holy nectar. 

Fir doesn’t move an inch, not wanting to wake Tanner. That would break the illusion that everything is perfectly normal.

The harsh, loud knocks on Tanner’s door are what does that. 

Tanner shoots awake, sitting up perfectly straight and launching Fir off of him in the process. They scramble to cover themselves, wide eyes meeting as the knocking continues.

Tanner’s hair is sticking out at odd angles. He’s still shirtless with bruises forming across his chest, and scratch marks down his back. It’s a good look, but Fir doubts whoever’s knocking will agree.

Fir’s certain he’s faring no better with his fair share of bite marks and hand prints. He untangles himself from the sheets, snatching his boxers from off the floor, and reaching for any other articles of clothing he can find.

They both freeze when a voice reverberates throughout the room. 

“Tanner Minecraft, open this door this instant.” Gordon Minecraft demands, gruff voice on the verge of yelling, too distinct to mistake for anyone else. 

Tanner stands, throwing his clothes on with equal urgency, and tripping on his way to the door. 

“Sorry, on my way!” Tanner gets to the door, frantically pointing at his bed. Fir doesn’t hesitate, snatching his remaining clothes and sliding beneath the bedframe.

He holds his breath as Tanner unlocks the door. 

Gordon enters like he owns the place, slamming the door open the moment he can. Tanner side steps out of the way, permitting his Father to enter, and softly shutting the door behind him.

“Tanner,” Gordon begins, cooly, “do you think I’m stupid?” From Fir’s vantage point, he can’t see either person’s face, but he is familiar with Gordon Minecraft’s dangerous smile.

“I- what?” Tanner manages to get out. Fir’s never heard him sound so quiet, standing stiff as stone beside the door.

“I asked a question, Tanner. I expect you to answer.”

“No, Father, I don’t think you’re-“

“I find that hard to believe, Tanner. You must have thought I lost both my eyes if you thought I wouldn’t see you spit in the face of every sacrifice made to get you here.” 

Fir holds his breath. The silence in the room is palpable. 

“What did I tell you to do?” Spit lands on the floor as Gordon asks the question. Fir flinches away from it. 

Tanner mumbles something inaudible.

“Minecraft’s don’t mutter, Tanner.” In seconds, Gordon has crossed the room to stand directly in front of his son. “Repeat yourself.”

“Sever the connection.” There’s no inflection to Tanner’s voice. 

“Very good!” Gordon sounds cruel and patronizing. “And what did you do?”

“Fir’s an asset. He’s helped Flare and me-“

A slap loud enough to shake the walls rings out. 

Fir’s hands fly to his mouth, covering the involuntary gasp he let out. 

It’s silent once again. 

“Don’t you dare say his name.”

Tanner says nothing, and Fir feels an eternity pass before Gordon sighs. 

“You are so lucky your Father can correct this… error .” Gordon steps away, making their way to the door. 

Tanner is eerily still. 

“You will separate the mated dragons, as you promised to before. I don’t care if your dragon disagrees; they are under your command. Command them.” 

Gordon pauses, waiting for a response. He doesn’t get one.

“Tanner. I’m doing this for your sake. Don’t you remember how distraught your mother was when Nova left?” 

That grabs Fir’s attention. Mary was a dragon rider? What happened?

Now Gordon stands in front of Tanner. Fir doesn’t need to look to know he’s placed a hand on the other man’s shoulder. “You’re letting your dragon control you. You must remind them who is in control.”

Tanner remains silent. 

“I promise you, Tanner, you’ll grow past this. They won’t be around for long.” 

Gordon steps back. Fir wants to strain to see what’s happening, but is equally as stuck as Tanner is.

Without so much as a goodbye, Tanner’s father exits.

The second the door is closed, Fir rushes out of his hiding spot, tripping over himself to get to where Tanner is still standing. They’re leaning against the wall, and have no reaction to Fir grabbing their shoulders.

“Tanner, are you okay?” Fir’s voice comes out shakier than he’d meant it to. Tanner’s eyes are glazed over, open but unseeing. He has zero response to Fir’s frantic questions, and Fir’s stomach drops. 

“Tanner, it’s- you’re okay. You’re okay, let’s just sit down.” As gently as he could, Fir pulls Tanner towards him. There’s no resistance as Fir leads him towards the bed, sitting him down gently. 

Fir doesn’t know exactly what to do. All he knows is he can’t leave Tanner in this state. He continues sitting beside Tanner, dressed in nothing but boxers and last night’s shirt, unsure of the next step to take. He traces patterns across Tanner’s arm, praying the light contact will relax the other enough to ground them. 

“Whenever you’re ready, we can talk about it. Or not talk about it. No pressure,” Fir mumbles, mostly to himself. Being able to feel Tanner’s pulse is equally calming for Fir. He leans into Tanner’s side, resting his head on the other man’s shoulder, and tries to keep their breathing level.

“It’s just us here, and it’s your room. Y’know, the first time I was in here, I assumed it’d be covered in nerdy dragon posters, but it looks a lot more like mine.” Fir’s rambling, but if he stops, he might murder Tanner’s Father. 

“Did you bring anything from home? I mean, other than your fancy clothes, I guess. I didn’t have any time to get my stuff, but you probably did, right? God, I miss my old pajamas. Dave probably burned all my stuff by now-”

“Who’s Dave?” Tanner croaks. He is still staring blankly straight ahead, but their hand opens and closes a few times. Fir slips their own hand into the other’s grip, squeezing back. 

“Dave was my old boss. He owned the inn that hired me when I had nowhere else to go. He was nice, but y’know. It wasn’t exactly the best place for an eighteen-year-old to be,” Fir let’s his mind wander, droning on with unimportant details. 

Anything to keep Tanner listening. Anything to keep the other’s mind back down on Earth.

Slowly, painfully slowly, color returns to Tanner’s face. He laughs softly at Fir’s dumb jokes until he’s strong enough to tell his own. Fir hopes he doesn’t notice how much their hands are shaking as he continues tracing his fingers across Tanner’s arms.  

“You don’t have to answer anything you don’t want to,” Fir says cautiously. “Can you tell me if this has happened before?”

Tanner leans forward, as if gravity had suddenly increased and was dragging him down. He ducks his head out of Fir’s view, but does answer. 

“Which part?”

The question floors Fir. 

Which part ?

“How often do you…” Fir struggles to choose his words, “lose track of yourself?” 

Tanner exhales through his nose, nodding to show he understood. It takes a minute to reply. 

“When I was younger, it happened quite a bit. My mom normally helped me refocus. I thought I had grown out of it.” 

Fir despises how timid Tanner sounds. This was the man who shouted out answers, laughed heartily at jokes, and pushed Fir to the brink of insanity. He’s not meant to sound so small. 

All Fir can do is nod shakily. “I’ll tell Moarf you’re taking a sick day, and I’ll tell Mary what happened.”

Immediately, Tanner’s eyes snap to him, “No, no, don’t do that, we have training today, I can’t miss-”

“You’ve been training for years , Tanner; you can miss one day.”

“No, I can’t, Fir, I need to be better !” Tanner yells, eyes shut as he does.

The room is silent except for Tanner’s heavy breathing. Gently, Fir’s fingers brush against Tanner’s arm. He jumps away from the contact. 

“I- I need to… I can’t stop. I can’t miss anything. My Father will know. It’s fine, I promise, I’ve done it before.”

Fir has never heard a voice so unconvincing as Tanner’s is in this moment. He should respond delicately.

Delicate wasn’t Fir’s forte. 

“First of all, don’t ever yell at me again-” Tanner attempts to interject with an apology, but Fir presses on, “ Second of all, I don’t care how many times you’ve done it, you’re not doing it now. I’ll tell Moarf I poisoned you as a joke, I’ll take the fall or whatever, but you are not going out there in this state.” 

Tanner looks beyond flabbergasted, mouth closing and opening as he searches for how to reply. Fir glares right back at him. Hell will freeze over before he changes his mind.

“Okay, well, first of all, I’m sorry,” Tanner apologizes, and Fir nods, already accepting. “Second of all, don’t fucking do that. We’re trying to make sure you pass this test, not get sent to prison for attempted murder.” 

Fir sighed deeply, but acquiesced. “Okay, I won’t say I poisoned you, but you’re staying here, and that’s final.” 

Tanner, who normally is a better listener than this, stands on unsteady legs and rummages through his closet for clothing. Fir cannot believe this man. 

“Tanner, I’m serious, you won’t do any good out there.”

He grunts rather than replying. Fir stomps over, placing himself between Tanner and his wardrobe. “Tanner, please, just take one day-”

“Stop pretending to care. We’re getting you out of here, not me,” Tanner spits out the words like venom. They should hurt Fir, but it looks like it hurt Tanner more to say it. 

“I’m not pretending.”

It’s true. Despite everything, Fir cared about Tanner more than he’d ever cared about anyone in his life. That was a terrifying thing to realize. He wanted to rip Tanner out of this place, wanted to open his eyes to the world outside of the Kingdom’s walls, wanted to ride off into the sunset, leaving the Minecraft family in the dust. 

But it doesn’t matter what Fir wants. When he escapes, he will do it alone. 

The thought of leaving Tanner where his Father can still reach him makes Fir feel ill. 

He has to focus on right now, looking up into Tanner’s eyes, begging him to understand what Fir doesn’t dare to say.

“I want- I need you to be okay,” he whispers, gently pushing Tanner back towards his bed.

Tanner resists, if only for a moment, but then allows himself to step back, sitting down once again. 

Before Fir can say anything else, he’s being dragged into a crushing hug. He catches himself on Tanner’s bed, legs on either side of the man, not unlike the night before. Fir wraps his hands around Tanner’s back, pulling him in with equal urgency. 

Tanner hides his face in the crook of Fir’s neck, and Fir does not comment on the sobs escaping the taller man’s throat. 

Fir didn’t move until Tanner was ready for him to. Even when he was, Fir had to rip himself away from the other. 

He left to navigate the offices, ducking past Gordon Minecraft’s to get to Mary’s. There, he had quietly explained that Tanner wasn’t feeling well and had requested her attention. Fir did his best to pretend he was annoyed by the task, rather than worried about Tanner’s well-being. 

Mary dropped everything to run to her son. 

Moarf made no comment on Tanner’s absence, and aside from one questioning look from CJ, they all moved on quickly. After training, the troupe met up with their dragons to “stretch their wings.” 

When Fir approached the Dragon of the Waters, the beast was alert, likely sensing Fir’s distress through the bond. He allowed himself to be caught by the dragon’s strong head as he nearly collapsed. He could feel the vibrations of the dragon’s purrs. He allowed his tears to fall across their vibrant scales.

“I’m worried about Tanner,” he confesses, looking into those wide yellow eyes. The beast nuzzled Fir’s face, their tail swishing in agitation. 

That night, Fir pauses outside Tanner’s door. He’s itching to knock, to ask more questions, to confirm he’s okay. Instead, he pressed his ear against the door and sighed in relief when he heard soft snoring on the other side. 

Returning to his room, Fir’s eyes land on a letter placed on the floor. He’s ripping it open in seconds.

Separate yourself from Tanner Minecraft. 

He is being monitored more than you. 

They will hold him against you.

-M

The paper falls to the floor when Fir finishes reading it. His breathing is rapid, he hears his heartbeat in his ears, but he remains standing out of sheer willpower.

His hands are clenched tight enough to draw blood. 

How fucking dare they demand he leave Tanner now? There’s so little time left. Why would he waste a second of it? There’s no world in which Gordon Minecraft comes around to Fir’s presence, no matter what he does. He’s not leaving Tanner to deal with this alone.

Not yet, anyways. 

He crumples up the letter, shoving it in his pocket to burn in the morning, and attempts to enter a restless sleep. 

Tanner returns to class the next day, and it takes a few hours for them to get back to their usual self. Initially, he’s far quieter, rarely commenting or speaking up. It’s funny, months ago, this is what Fir would have wanted from Tanner. Now, he finds it haunting. 

He only relaxes as Tanner slowly integrates back into their groove. Normally, when the whole troupe is present, Tanner and Fir repel away from each other like magnets. Now, Fir can’t help but want to be nearby. It’s his turn to silently check in, catching Tanner’s gaze and tilting his head. Tanner would just smile softly and nod, and all would be right with the world again. 

Their “skills test” was one week away. Fir was doing his best to focus on his training, but his mind always seemed to be stuck on someone else. He waits for Tanner to return to the balcony each night, falling back into banter, and finally relaxing after all the stress of their lives. 

Some evenings, they don’t say anything. They’d just lean against each other, watching the day end in silence. 

Fir receives another warning to stay away from Tanner. He feeds the letter to his dragon and forgets to mention it to Tanner. 

Another morning, he’s awoken by a knock on his door. Fir is shooting out of bed, fearing the worst, fearing what’s on the other side. 

Fearing there’s nothing he can do to stop it.

He stumbles to the door, opening it to a clipboard being shoved in his face.

“Sign here,” a uniformed man commands him. Fir is still blinking sleep out of his eyes, attempting to make sense of the page he’s signing. 

It’s a form confirming the acceptance of a package. Fir glances down at the massive box beside the deliveryman. He barely has time to sign an “F” before the man is snatching the clipboard back and exiting the hallway. 

Confused, Fir drags the hefty package into his room. Opening it reveals a letter atop a mass of fancy leather. 

If you won’t stay away, you must be ready to run.

The Academy’s equipment won’t be sufficient. 

Equip this only moments before the test.

-M

Inside is the most elaborate saddle Fir had ever seen in his life. He felt too poor to even be touching the thing. Each strap seemed to be custom-designed for his dragon in mind. 

There were even blue gems embossed into it. 

Another knock on his door nearly causes Fir to jump out of his skin. He shoves the box into his closet as fast as he can, once again running back to confront whoever was here for him now. 

“Whoa, are you okay?” Tanner is standing in front of him, dressed in casual workout clothes. There’s a thin sheen of sweat covering his body. Fir’s not normally super connected with his emotions, but he’s certain his face is a darker shade of red than it was before. 

“Yup. Yes. I’m great, uh, did you need something?”

“I wanted to see if you wanted to go for a ride before class? I think Flare misses you.” 

Fir smiles. That’s a clever excuse. 

“I would love to.”

Chapter Text

Tanner doesn’t think he’s ever experienced as much dread as he did the morning of their “opportunity.” 

The fear of whatever his Father was planning was making him sick to his stomach. 

Fir and Tanner had been doing their best to hide their time spent together, meeting incredibly early in the morning or incredibly late at night. Last night, they’d spent their time analyzing the mysterious saddle Fir had received, ensuring there were no traps or hidden features that would harm him or his dragon. 

Whoever sent it was very wealthy, very crafty, and very knowledgeable. Each piece seemed custom-made for the Dragon of Waters in mind, and implemented the most expensive materials possible.

Fir also informed him that a letter advised him to leave Tanner. Tanner’s heart sank, but a part of him knew that was reasonable. 

It was also the most painful option, but that wasn’t important. 

“Okay, we’ll stop meeting up, at least until the test is over,” Tanner says, suppressing his own feelings on the matter. 

“What?” Fir, who was rummaging through Tanner’s closet searching for something other than a white shirt for the upcoming event, turns to face him. “We’re not doing that. I only told you because I think it’s stupid.” 

He stops moving, giving Tanner his full attention. “I’m not just gonna leave you to deal with this.” 

It’s a lovely lie. 

They both know it. 

Fir gives Tanner a half-hearted smile as he takes off his shirt in exchange for a fancy blue one from Tanner’s closet. He did his best to hide how flustered the action made him. It’s not like it wasn’t something he hadn’t seen before.

“Well, there’s no rest for the weary.” Tanner slowly made his way to the door, almost begging time to freeze, trapping them here forever. Never discovering what’s waiting for them outside the door. 

“Shall we?”

No one knew what to expect. Moarf had asked them all to prepare in “their best” riding gear and saddle. That meant the troupe was dressed in brand-new armor, including Tanner, who had already purchased a custom set. He’d requested it to be black and red, so he could match with Flare. 

Fir, on the other hand, had Tanner’s stolen blue shirt, mandated braces, and shoulder guards. He was more bare than the others, but Tanner thought it made him look cooler. 

Tanner had considered ordering something for Fir, but that was before his Father had made his stance on the man exceptionally clear.

He tries not to think about that. 

The troupe meets in the courtyard, gathering all their dragons beforehand. Flare is anxious to go, excited by the idea of showing off. Tanner has to remind him to be patient. Their excited energy is comforting, but the dragon’s pacing is not the most professional thing to be doing right now. 

It’s not a surprise that Fir’s dragon is sitting beside Flare, attempting to intertwine their tails together. Their dragon’s bond hasn’t been a secret, but it does kill Tanner to silently demand Flare move away from their mate. 

His Father is going to be here soon. 

They’ll need to play the part.

All the other riders stand beside their dragons, and Tanner really gets to see how far they’ve all come. 

CJ and Della are chatting quietly, as usual. Their dragons, Dee and Tanuki, were stretching their wings, preparing for whatever was coming. Eric was performing some last-minute dragon maintenance, ensuring there wasn’t a single scale out of place on Fawn. Jaiden was throwing chunks of meat in the air for Ari to catch, something the dragon was not great at. 

Each beast had grown in size and strength, and now formed a colorful and intimidating array. So early in their training, the troupe was formidable. They would prove that today.

Tanner was always in awe of how calm Fir could appear. He knew the man was terrified; he’d confessed so during one of their late-night chats, and yet he seemed downright bored, leaning against his dragon and waiting for the show to start. 

They didn’t have to wait long, as Driver, Moarf’s massive Dragon of the Forests, landed in the center of the courtyard. The beast bowed its head, allowing Moarf and Gordon Minecraft to dismount, and a hush fell over the group.

His Father claps, drawing all focus to him and only him. They’re smile is blinding, and though he’s known the man his whole life, Tanner can’t discern if it’s real or not. 

“Thank you all for your punctual arrival. I’m sure you’re all anxious to begin, but we have some housekeeping to complete first.”

Gordon raises his hand, beckoning a team of specialists forward. It’s just like their other benchmark; they need to ensure their dragon’s health before they continue. 

“It won’t take too long. Moarf and I will meet with each of you to discuss your progress with your bonds,” his Father’s remaining eye lands on Fir, “and whether you’re deserving of them.” 

Tanner gulps. Not fearing for himself, but for Fir.

All he can think of is the conversation they had after a draining day.

Tanner had arrived on their shared balcony under the cover of night. Flare did his best to land delicately, and the silence was only broken by Fir’s shaky breaths. 

Fir had been put through the ringer during his time at the Academy, and done so with his head held high. Now, seeing the man hunched over, covering his face with his hands, and attempting to stifle himself, it scares Tanner more than it should.

“Hey, what happened? Are you okay?” Tanner rushed over, dropping to his knees in front of Fir. He reached out, softly cradling Fir’s face, desperate to resolve whatever caused this.

Fir’s hands wrapped around Tanner’s wrists, keeping his hands there, as if the action alone was holding Fir together. The tears fell more openly now, and Tanner was doing his best to wipe them away. Fir inhaled deeply, attempting to speak. 

“I’m trying, I just- I don’t know what I’m doing wrong,” Fir attempted to explain between gasps. Tanner was dying to know what caused this, but was more focused on Fir’s physical state. “I don’t know their name . I don’t even know what I’m doing wrong!”

He’s talking about his dragon. It was a shocking amount of time that had passed without ever learning its name. Now, clutching the other’s vulnerable form, Tanner silently begs the universe to be kind, just this once.

As Tanner’s Father approaches Fir before anyone else, Tanner knows the universe wasn’t listening. They’re going to do everything in their power to keep Fir on the ground. 

Why? Because he didn’t grow up in a mansion?

Tanner can feel his mind exiting his body, attempting to leave the situation, desperate not to process it. It’s a battle to stay focused. He digs his nails into his crossed arms, trying to remain in reality. 

Fir’s blue-scaled dragon seems agitated by the people circling them, measuring their wingspan, and analyzing their spikes. Fir appears calm, but Tanner spots his subtle shifting of weight, as if he’s preparing to run.

Fir stands up straight, smiling at Moarf, and blatantly ignoring the other man. 

They’re saying something, talking too quietly for Tanner to hear. The two instructors begin circling the dragon as well, and Fir stays put. With their backs turned, Fir’s gaze meets Tanner’s, eyes silently pleading for help. 

Connecting to his bond, Tanner’s certain Flare desires the same thing he does. 

Flare stretches, slowly and subtly moving closer to its stressed mate. As casually as possible, Tanner steps around to the other side of the dragon. From here, he can clearly see Fir smile fondly at his attempt to be closer. They have to school his face when the other two men complete their assessment. 

Now that he can hear what’s being said, Tanner feels far calmer.

“Well, they do look better than the last time we saw them, though that’s not saying much,” Gordon comments smugly. Moarf cringes at the thinly veiled insult. 

“Yes! I must say I’ve been very proud of you and- er- them. You clearly have a strong bond. It’s like you always know what the other is thinking!” Moarf sounds almost as nervous as Tanner feels.

Unfortunately, Gordon does, in fact, pick up on Moarf’s lack of subtlety. He raises one eyebrow at Fir. “I’m sorry, do you not know your dragon’s name ? What have you been doing all this time?” 

There’s something calming about watching all your greatest fears come true at once. It almost makes the devastation sting less. 

Almost. 

Fir stares at Gordon, mouth firmly shut. Gordon tilts his head dramatically, waiting for an answer, and is far too pleased when one does not come. 

“Well! That’s definitely not a good sign-”

“Oasis.”

Fir cuts Gordon’s presumably long speech off before it can begin. 

“His name is Oasis,” The second time Fir says, he sounds far more sure. “Any other questions?”

A dragon’s name is sacred. It holds a weight far stronger than a human’s name does. It’s a sign of trust with their bonded, a title they chose to share. 

The Dragon of the Waters, Oasis , sits up proudly as his name is said out loud for the first time. 

Even his Father cannot deny the truth. His smirk is wiped clean off his face, one piercing eye glaring at Fir. 

“No. That will be all.”

Flare is in good condition, great in fact. Tanner can sense him beaming with pride at his mate’s openness and his own successful assessment. It helps Tanner to stay calm, answering his Father and Moarf’s questions with ease. 

Everything is fine. They will pass this test, and so will Fir. This will be over before they know it.

Now that the initial testing is complete, the whole troupe follows Moarf, making their way to the opposite side of the Academy. This causes Tanner to wonder if there was an actual purpose in gathering in the courtyard or if that was simply a tactic to psych them all out.

When they see the challenge set out ahead of them, Tanner understands. 

Rounding the corner, they see an elaborate series of obstacles, elements, walls, and pendants. Tanner has to wonder how many people stayed up all night putting this together. 

Moarf stands ahead of the group, smiling genuinely, a rarity these days.“As you see, you will all be completing this agility course with your bonded dragons, however !” Moarf’s hand shot out dramatically, overemphasizing the word. “This is not just a solo competition but a race! I want to see a clear fight out there, treat the beasts with respect, obviously.”

There is a nodding amongst the group. Murder and maiming aren’t necessary to impress the Academy.

Glancing around the course, Tanner’s attention is drawn to people gathering on the Academy’s balcony. Other troupes, teachers, and patrons stand about, studying their every move. 

Waiting for Tanner to fuck up.

“Driver and I are gonna be nearby in case of an emergency,” Moarf continues to explain. “You’re all required to complete three laps, grabbing your respective pendants as you do so.” 

High above the course, a series of ropes criss-cross, creating a line of pendants, each with a symbol of their dragons. Tanner notes the position of the three red triangles with a fire emblem on them. 

“The first rider to return with all three pendants is the winner, but keep in mind, we are monitoring your performance as a whole, not just positioning.” 

Each rider is strategizing, attempting to find the optimal route in the few seconds they can. 

Tanner looks at his opponents and then back at the course, realizing something about the structure of the obstacles. 

Bits were lined with torches, despite being in broad daylight, clearly meant for Flare to draw energy from. Trees used as obstacles were very clearly imported from jungles, likely for Dee, the Dragon of the Wilds. Windmills spin, providing additional gusts for others to avoid and Ari, Dragon of the Winds, to thrive on. Fog conceals some sections, while others are brightly lit with reflective crystals, essentials for Fawn and Tanuki, Dragons of the Clouds and Light, respectively.

Each dragon had been given an advantage.

Each dragon except the Dragon of the Waters, Oasis.

“Suit up, you’ve got five minutes to line up at the starting line!” Moarf calls out, climbing aboard Driver, and taking off.

They all quickly dash to their dragons, double-checking their equipment, preparing to dive headfirst into the unknown. As Tanner approaches Flare, he can feel the competitiveness boiling under the surface. Flare matches it, antsy to start the race and prove they’re greatness. 

They’re both always so desperate to please. 

They’re truly a fated pair. 

Tanner double and triple checks each part of Flare’s saddle, anything that could have possibly shifted, anything that could go wrong. In the corner of his eye, he spots Fir strapping the brand-new saddle onto Oasis, whispering something to his dragon.

Tanner turns away. Right now, he needs to be entirely focused. Fir is doing the same. If he drops the ball, if he hesitates for the other man’s sake, his Father will twist it into something it isn’t. 

Tanner needs to win. 

The starting line is a long red platform, and Flare approaches it, stopping beside Fawn and Eric. None of them says a word, too focused on the upcoming race. 

The world fades around Tanner. It’s just him, Flare, and the course of challenges ahead of him. There’s a clear objective; he’ll succeed. 

He’ll do better than that, he’ll make his Father proud.

The only sound that matters is the countdown from Moarf. It’s the only noise that he can hear aside from his blood pumping. When “Go!” rings out, Tanner is shooting off. 

Flare is a bulky dragon, common for those hailing from the fires. Tanner knows that if they don’t shoot ahead at the start of the race, their size will prevent them from passing later on. 

Now, Flare is leading the pack, balancing flying over the obstacles, and not breaking Academy rules by flying over the height of the bordering walls.

The path of the course is lined with colorful flags to guide the riders. It twists and turns across the field, careful to keep each dragon in view of the Academy and its spectators. This first lap is more for information gathering, but Tanner still needed to be sure they remained in the lead. 

Dragons of the Fire thrive in heat and flames, but Tanner’s human body does not. They need to wait at least a lap before they can speed up, not wanting to risk missing a turn, especially when many of them are concealed in fog. All of his focus is on making each movement as tight and quick as possible.

Beside him, Tanner catches a glimpse of CJ astride Dee, whose lengthy tail is wrapping around trees and whipping them out of turns. Not the most professional technique, but wildly effective as it launches him, albeit clumsily, into first place. 

The lead doesn’t last long. When Tanner drops to dodge the wind streams, Ari and Jaiden easily spin through them, passing both him and CJ. Despite his focus, Tanner does still hear CJ squawking as he’s surpassed, and then shrieking as a bright flash of light temporarily limits everyone’s vision. 

Tanner may have only just seen the course, but recalled enough to navigate in the temporary blindness. Flare trusts his guidance implicitly. The light came from below them, so Tanner dropped suddenly, preventing Della and Tanuki, the cause of the flash, from passing Tanner as well. 

Shaking his head to clear his vision, Tanner spots the pendants they’re meant to grab each lap. Eric and Dawn, who were equally unaffected by the blindness, were ahead. Flare lands, only for a second, to gain momentum from pushing off the ground, letting Tanner snatch one red banner before anyone else could reach their own.

Now that he knows the path, Flare doesn’t want to hold back. They draw from the fire of the torches, and Tanner stands in his saddle, not wanting to get overwhelmed by the heat, and preparing to lean into each sharp turn. 

It’s during the first turn that Tanner hears it. The subtle and purposeful flap of two pairs of wings, moving imperceptibly fast. 

Tanner glances up just in time to see Fir, upside down and inches away from Tanner’s head, barrel rolling just to pass him.

As they flip, Oasis’ tail whips perfectly in front of Flare’s eyes, causing his dragon to jerk back and avoid a collision. That’s all it takes to throw off their next turn, and ensures they’re spot in the lead.

Now it’s a challenge. 

The world around them faded away, giving Tanner a new thrilling goal to achieve. 

Everyone had something to prove, but no one had more on the line than Fir. No one would be as harsh or as dedicated as they are. Every nerve in Tanner’s body felt electric, demanding to defeat this challenger. 

Oasis can turn on a dime; a flick of the tail shifts its weight subtly enough to glide past any obstacles. Tanner found the movement mesmerizing before, but now, it’s a threat. 

Dropping down, Flare navigates through the trees, never letting Fir out of their sight. The pair is rapidly pulling ahead of the rest of the troupe, too caught up in each other to care. 

It’s a reflection of where they started, focusing solely on outdoing the other, and letting the world fall away around them.

When they approach the wind gusts, Oasis dances around them, narrowly rising and falling to avoid being pushed off course. 

Tanner acts before thinking, flattening against Flare, who tucks their wings in. They shoot through the gusts with nothing but momentum. They narrowly avoid crashing back down to Earth, Flare spreading their wings out in the last second.

They’re catching up, but not fast enough.

Fir isn’t going to pull any punches; Tanner shouldn’t either. As they rocket past the reflective crystals, Flare snatches one with their claw, melting it almost instantly. They huck it, the shining light and shattering sound temporarily grab Oasis' attention, opening the perfect window for Flare to pass again. 

Tanner snatches his second banner and does his best not to let his lead get to his head. It only takes a few seconds for Fir to snatch his as well. Tanner needs to pick up the pace.

Now that Flare knows the path, their turns can be sharper. Any corner that can be cut will be. Tanner can’t tell where he starts and Flare ends; their minds are entirely merged, falling into a familiar rhythm together.

Tanner risks the burns as Flare draws energy from the last set of torches, keeping himself low enough that the wind doesn’t drag them back. He’d rather take a visit to the infirmary than lose. 

Flare takes the higher approach as they weave through the trees, allowing them to watch Fir and Oasis below. Their blue scales and serpentine motions create the illusion of a stream, rushing past the trees. 

Tanner’s focus snaps forward, relishing the feeling of the quick drops, turns, and sprints. He wishes this were all his life was. Wishes he didn’t know the price he had to pay to have Flare in his life, to be a dragon rider, to be a Minecraft. 

Right now, he’s none of that. It’s just him and Fir fighting for first place.

Flare drops down, cutting in front of Oasis, preventing them from passing. He hears Fir make some sort of frustrated noise as they whip into the next turn. 

Knowing it’s the best strategy, Tanner hunkers down again, and Flare brute-forces his way past the winds. Fir is a fast rider, but Dragons of the Water aren’t built to barrel through obstacles like Flare is. The other rider expertly dodges the wind, allowing Tanner to gain more distance. 

The only thing standing in the way of victory is the reflections and fog. It’s the last sprint; they have to make it count. The hair on Tanner’s neck stands up as he prepares to snatch the final pendant. 

When Flare’s speed started decreasing, Tanner instantly switched his focus from victory to concern.

Trying not to panic, Tanner reached into their bond for some kind of explanation. The response he received was one simple word. 

“Cold.”

Sure enough, Flare’s scales were icy to the touch, zapping all the energy out of him. 

Tanner only knew of one dragon capable of doing that. 

And he only knew one asshole who would wait until the very last second to pull that ace from their sleeve. 

Tanner glances to his right, witnessing exactly what he expected to. Fir smiling wider than he’d ever seen, cheeks flushed and sweat shining on their face, certain that they’re going to win, no special treatment required. 

When Fir snatches his third and final banner, there’s not a single part of Tanner that can find a reason to be mad. They beat every one of them, holding back until the perfect moment to secure their victory. Not only was he a skilled enough rider to win, but he was also the best strategist to do so. 

Tanner grabs his third and final banner moments after, a hearty laugh managing to escape his body as Flare roars triumphantly. 

Landing, Tanner wants nothing more than to run over to Fir and celebrate. That was the best flight of their lives. The troupe as a whole is ecstatic, laughing and embracing each other. Eric claps Tanner on the shoulder, pulling him into a side hug. 

CJ rushed to Fir, and in seconds, he’s holding the shorter man up on his shoulders, shouting something incomprehensible. Della is shaking Jaiden with far too much enthusiasm, but she doesn’t seem to mind. They’re all crowding around Fir, cheering him as he holds onto CJ for dear life. 

Being able to experience this, seeing Fir be embraced by a group without hesitation, finally being praised for their accomplishments and hard work, Tanner had never seen him so happy. It almost made the stress of the exam worth it.  

Tanner wants to embrace him, but there’s still one barrier in their way. 

Gordon Minecraft clears his throat, and the group is reminded that they’re meant to be polite adults and separate. Some giggles still echo across the group, but they stand at attention.

“Well, I’m glad you all enjoyed yourselves, because we,” Gordon gestures back to Moarf, “Have made our decision.” 

If Tanner’s eyes weren’t glued to his Father, he would have noticed Moarf nod at Fir and point three fingers to the ground. 

He would have noticed Fir take slow steps back to Oasis, who had suddenly gone on alert.

He would have noticed the unusual number of guards slowly entering the training field. 

“It is evident that you all have skill, but what we are most concerned about is your motivations,” Gordon began. “It is important to maintain your bonds, not to allow your bonds to control you.” They slowly step forward in front of the group. “It’s essential that it is through your strength and your strength alone that you succeed.”

Tanner didn’t like how that sounded. He could hear his heart beat in his ears; it was a fight to focus on his Father’s voice. 

“Starting tomorrow, we will transfer some of you to more ‘hands-on’ training outside of the Academy.” That gets everyone’s attention, glancing at each other, confused. No dragon-riding trainee had ever been allowed to step outside of the Academy that soon.

“It’s important that you remember what has allowed you to be here. Your dragon’s bond is an honor, and it is the Kingdom of Prime that is permitting you to have them and train with them.” He stops, standing in front of Fir.

“All that was requested of you was loyalty.”

Everyone is silent. They all know what’s about to happen, and they all know there’s nothing right about it.

Tanner grew up being praised for the power that came with his last name. It gave him quite the ego when he was younger. If he had known the price that came with it, he would have realized how powerless he actually was long before he trapped himself in the Academy.

The senior Minecraft gestures to the rest of the group. “The five of you will be graduating to the higher training level, starting tomorrow. You will combine with other troupes and continue to train for your Kingdom.” Not even looking in Fir’s direction, he adds, “This one has some priorities that still need sorting out, and our new trial program is sure to do that.” 

The man pauses, as if he’s waiting for applause. There’s no celebration. 

They all stand aghast as Gordon goes to casually stride away. Fir’s wide eyes follow him as he goes, mouth clamped shut. They all saw it coming, but that didn’t cause it to hurt any less. 

Fir won. He won; they all saw it.

Tanner steps out of line in front of his Father. 

The older man does his best to school their face, but Tanner recognizes the rage in their eye. Before, that would keep him silent, but this injustice is fueling him more than anything ever has.

“With all due respect, Fir passed the assigned task with flying colors. They couldn’t have relied on anything other than themself to do so. In fact, they were at a disadvantage and still won. How else could they have proven themself?”

Tanner could feel his heart racing, as if they were flying a fourth lap.

He thought of how many times Fir had been shoved down, but refused to surrender. Tanner could do the same. He would remain where his feet were and look his Father in the eye. He wouldn’t be an accessory to Fir’s pain any longer.

A hand falls on his shoulder. 

But it’s not Gordon’s. 

CJ stands behind Tanner, nodding and smiling at the older Minecraft. It’s dumb. Tanner should laugh, but it’s a kindness that’s easing the tension. His Father glances between the two of them, confused how another trainee could rebel against him.

Della breaks the silence, saying, “Fir’s helped us a lot outside of the race too.” Jaiden nods and adds, “He asks a lot of good questions. I feel like we all get a better understanding when he’s around.”

Looking down, Eric steps to Tanner’s unoccupied side, “We all improved, but I’d argue Fir had that most dramatic change.” 

Tanner breathes easier knowing he’s not standing alone, looking at his Father. They all see this for what it is: a cheap excuse. They can either change their decision or face their scrutiny.

Everyone here comes from a wealthy family that paid for the Mincraft’s position in the Academy. The silent threat is not a toothless one. 

Tanner looks back at his Father, facing him down more confidently than before. Something like pride is bubbling up in his chest, and the feeling is not a common one for Tanner. 

They outnumber him, five to one. Not even Moarf is backing the other leader up, leaving him to stare at each one of them, mouth firmly shut.

What happens next happens very quickly. 

Tanner would have assumed it was an earthquake if not for the loud crash that accompanied the ground beginning to shake. 

He barely managed to stay on his feet; others were not so lucky. His ears were ringing, and he could sense Flare panicking. 

Flare .

Flare is off kilter, wanting to get to his mate as soon as he can. Tanner searches the chaos for Oasis’s blue scales. 

He finds them a second too late. 

While everyone was recovering from the blast, Fir had leaped back onto their dragon. They were taking off before anyone else had time to react. 

No one had time to stop him. Not when a dragon of sheer darkness is ripping the Academy’s walls apart. The large beast is tearing through structures like they’re paper, flicking towers and bricks out of their way.

Tanner knows that dragon. When he was only fifteen years old, his Father had sat him down to explain that Nova, his Mother’s Dragon of the Shadows, wouldn’t be returning. They told him she had “run away.” 

This wasn’t the reunion Tanner had in mind as a child, as he resaddles onto Flare, prepared to take off and mitigate the amount of damage being done by the monster from his childhood.

Before he can leave the ground, an arm snatches Tanner’s leg, frantically pointing him towards the opposite direction. 

Fir and Oasis have cleared the Academy’s walls as guards scramble to saddle onto dragons and chase after them. 

Fir is doing exactly what he came here to do.

He’s leaving.

Tanner’s Father, still with a death grip on his leg, screams out one command. 

“Get. Him.”

Tanner doesn’t hesitate to shoot off in the direction of the newly-named blue dragon. He doesn’t hesitate to mute Flare’s protests through their bond. He doesn’t hesitate to turn his back on Nova. He doesn’t hesitate to abandon those who could be in danger. 

Tanner is doing exactly what he came here to do. 

He’s following orders. 

Taking off in chase, Tanner notes the four guards behind him, also commanded to return the wayward dragonrider to the Academy. They were astride their own beasts, weapons at their sides. 

A voice in the back of Tanner’s mind questions if the officials want Fir back dead or alive. 

Another voice questions why Nova was the one creating the distraction that heralded Fir’s exit. 

He can’t bear to consider his Mother at this moment. Can’t bear to let his mind catastrophize what any of this could mean. 

Tanner knew every formation, movement, and training regimen the Academy could offer by heart. He didn’t have to think as he fell in line with the others. They’re both exhausted from the race, but pull ahead of the four guards, automatically dropping into the lead of the formation. 

It’s natural. 

Fir is still ahead, speeding up, pivoting away from the Kingdom and toward the Mountain ranges beyond. It’s a smart move; they’d probably shoot them down. They’d probably risk surviving in the wild over whatever fate awaited him if he were caught. 

Fir should be panicking, but each movement seems precise, dipping down to the forest, and weaving through trees once again. Tanner doesn’t have to look to know he’s already shaken one guard off his trail. 

He’s good. 

Tanner needs to be better. He knows Fir won’t hesitate to play dirty. He will kick, bite, and scratch to get away. 

If Tanner let himself pause for a moment, he would have had time to question why he was doing this. He was too focused on fighting to keep Fir in sight. Two other guards couldn’t keep up with one particularly sharp turn, leaving Tanner and one other in chase. 

Flare’s size could be difficult to work around, but it could also be used to their advantage. They slingshot off a tree, launching towards Oasis, whose small size permitted them to take several sharp turns in a row. Flare barreled through what he could, and burned away what he couldn’t. 

A part of Tanner can feel his mind wandering, begging to separate itself from reality. A bit of him is reminded of the first time he’d met Fir, chasing him down the hallway and tackling him to the ground. 

Why had he done that? Because some perceived authority wanted him to? Moarf didn’t request violence, but Tanner could only use what he knew. 

They fly across the forest and find themselves above a ravine between two steep mountainsides. Fir’s lost the cover he was depending on, leaving him entirely exposed to the open air. Tanner can see the small signs of exhaustion, as Oasis seems to flounder for a moment, panicking and picking up speed with what little energy they have left. 

There’s no more ace to play; they’re entirely out of their element running for their life, and with no more ace to play.

Tanner has no difficulty catching up to them. Flare is beside Oasis now, certainly in grabbing range, and something that might be fulfillment rushes through Tanner’s body.

He did it. He won. He’d return, and his Father would be proud of him. Would apologize for doubting him. This was good, entirely and wholly good.

The humming in the back of Tanner’s head gets louder, begging his mind to refocus, to comprehend what was happening around him. 

Flare. The bond. Flare is asking him for help. To reconsider. To listen . 

Fir’s head whips back, wide eyes pulling Tanner’s mind back into his body. The moment becomes all too real, careening across the distance at such high speeds, preparing to rip this man out of the skies. Fir doesn’t look scared, thank God. Tanner isn’t sure what he’d think if Fir was scared of him. 

The look on his face is something else. Distraught. Worried. 

Hopeful .

“Tanner!” Fir calls out, reaching an arm up, despite the speed they were both traveling at. “Come with me!”

Tanner spares the only remaining guard a glance and sees him slowly reaching towards a crossbow at their side. It turns Tanner’s blood into ice. No one would dare shoot down a dragon, but a meddlesome rider distracted and in clear range?

They’d risk it.

It seems Tanner’s choice has been made for him. 

Again.

He turns back to Fir, staring longingly at his outstretched hand. 

For a moment, he can see a future away from his own last name. A life with another person he trusts completely and implicitly. One where his decisions can be his own.

 He sees the two of them traveling the world astride their dragons, holding hands in the open, going on proper dates, confessing to each other what they both already know.

For a moment, their fingers brush, and Fir’s eyes well up with tears, holding their breath, waiting to see what Tanner does next.

“I’m sorry we didn’t have more time,” Tanner calls out against the wind.

He selfishly lets himself revel in the moment for a second longer than he should, before Flare's wings snap to their side, halting their forward momentum, slamming into the guard before the other rider has the opportunity to take the shot. 

The next second, they’re in a free fall. Flare and the other dragon grapple, one trying to remain airborne as Flare tries to drag them down, screeching and clawing at their wings as they hurtle back down to Earth.

God help whoever stands in the way of Flare and his mate. 

The last thing Tanner’s mind can register is the streak of shiny blue in the sky, taking off and finding cover in the trees once more. There’s no chance in hell the Kingdom of Prime will find him now. He won’t stop running, not for a second.

God help Tanner, who fell for the only person destined to leave him. 

Tanner closes his eyes, and suddenly, he’s sitting on their bench overlooking the Kingdom, and Fir’s head is resting on his shoulder. The sound of their laughter drowns out reality, and Tanner welcomes it. He turns, pressing a soft kiss on the top of Fir’s head, letting their soft hair tickle their chin, breathing in their smell. 

Tanner smiles, plummeting from the sky, and letting his mind go.

Chapter Text

The only sound in the forest is Fir’s heaving sobs. 

Oasis presses on, and Fir’s tears whip out of his stinging eyes as they both refuse to slow down. He’s sick to his stomach. His arms feel like lead. His head is pounding.

He has to keep going. 

The gem at the front of Oasis’s saddle is Fir’s compass. 

Literally. 

There is a soft, glowing light in the largest stone that Fir follows exactly. When he was attaching the saddle to his dragon, Oasis , a note had fallen out informing him that the stone would be his guide. 

It’d only made sense when the Academy’s guards began closing in on them. 

The explosive distraction was certainly a shock, but Fir was more prepared than anyone else. Oasis was already airborne when the ground began shaking, and they were taking off before anyone could stop them. 

Fir should have accounted for Tanner’s speed, his own awareness, his own refusal to quit. 

His promise to help Fir escape.

Fir hopes that wherever the mysterious gem leads him has the equipment required to murder Gordon Minecraft.

It’s not like Fir has anything else to lose. Not when Tanner had slipped through his fingers, taking the other guard out with him.

He can’t tell if it’s his own thoughts or Oasis’s that are attempting to justify their actions. They seem to constantly be reminding themselves that if they had stopped and interfered, the sacrifice would have been for nothing. That was Tanner’s choice. 

Fir just doesn’t know if he’ll ever be able to live with it. 

He gulps in another shaky breath and turns right, keeping them hidden within the trees, but following the gemstone's directions. It’s a simple task to focus on, yet it’s taking all of Fir’s willpower to do it. 

Every time Fir closes his eyes, he sees the image of Tanner’s smile burned into his retina. He can still feel the ghost of their intertwined fingers. He’s certain that those dark pair of eyes will haunt him as long as he lives. 

Considering how exhausted he is now, with no end in sight, Fir worries that the end is coming sooner rather than later. 

Something deep down within Fir wonders if Tanner would ever forgive him if he died. 

Oasis purrs, attempting to rouse their rider, and they press on together. 

Tanner was certain he would never wake again. His aching body implied survival. Surely whatever afterlife he dropped into wouldn’t force him to experience the injuries of his death for eternity.

He willed his eyes to open.

He’s on a dragon. Not Flare, though he can sense them nearby. He’s bound. He’s bleeding. 

He’s losing consciousness again.

He welcomes the fall.

The sound of something crashing through the trees grabs both Fir and Oasis out of their steadfast focus. They’re speeding up, preparing to slip through obstacles, evading whatever pursuer has caught up with them. 

Fir mentally slaps himself for not having the foresight to take some sort of weapon with him. Running is his only option, and he’s already sick of it. 

“Fir! Pleasestoprunning- it’s Moarf!”

A familiar voice screams out, clearly trying to keep up. Suddenly, a massive, clumsy Dragon of the Forests rises above the trees, casting a shadow on Fir.

“Moarf!” Oasis jerks away from the massive creature, “What the fuck is happening?” 

Despite the serious situation and Fir's distress, Moarf’s hearty laugh is a welcome sound.

“First of all, I think Oasis needs a lift!” he shouts, and Driver dips his massive head, signalling for them to climb aboard. 

Oasis is not a small dragon by any means, but they can lounge on top of the other beast with room to spare. A break was sorely needed. Fir didn’t need the bond to know the fatigue and tension were getting to them both. 

Moarf waves to them both before rising into the sky once again. Fir catches a glimpse of their own glowing gem embedded in their saddle, with a light pointing in the same direction as the one on Oasis.

Great. Fir joined a cult. 

“Where is it taking us?” He calls out, though it’s much easier to hear each other now on the same dragon. 

Moarf turned back, smiling, “Back to HQ! Of sorts. You should rest. This might take a bit.”

Fir wants to protest. Wants to scream. Wants to demand more answers, but everything that happened today is suddenly hitting him all at once. 

Oasis drops their head, eyes closed, and before he knows it, Fir is drifting off as well. 

Tanner didn’t know they still had a dungeon in the Academy. 

He had assumed they’d removed it during the overhaul, or at least renovated it, but waking up with shackles keeping his wrists in shackles didn’t leave many other conclusions to reach. The space was old, dark, and damp, and had been untouched for years. 

And here he was, chained to its walls. 

Though every muscle in his body protests, Tanner lifts his head and attempts to stand. He needs to look around, needs to ask why he’s here.

He doesn’t make it very far, slamming back down onto his knees, unable to catch himself. 

“Good morning, Tanner.” A stern voice echoes across the chasm. No matter how tired he is, Tanner is still well-trained.

“Good morning, Father.”

When Fir opens his eyes again, he’s still strapped to Oasis, still soaring through the clouds. The only difference is that the sun is far lower in the sky, painting the world in hues of gold.

Fir realizes that he’s never actually flown this high. Academy standards were holding him back before, but now, he can see how beautiful the world is. 

“Good timing, Fir, we’re almost there!” Moarf’s voice catches Fir off guard. He’s too jumpy; he should have known Moarf would still be here. They’re literally riding his dragon.

“Where?” Fir manages to choke out, throat sore from crying, “Where are we going?” Silently, Fir reaches out to Oasis, warning him to prepare for another quick exit if necessary.

“M’s base of operations. There were a lot of people working on getting you here, Fir,” Moarf says solemnly. 

As if Fir could ever forget who died for his sake. 

Despite his rest, Fir is still too drained to ask any more questions, but can’t stand the silence. He swears he can hear Tanner snickering behind him, and if he turns his head fast enough, he’ll catch a glimpse of him. Forever in the corner of Fir’s eye. 

So, he rambles mindlessly to Oasis, who seems equally lost in their own thoughts. He speaks quietly enough that Moarf won’t catch on to Fir's slowly increasing insanity, but loud enough to chase away visions of the sole child of the Minecraft house. 

When they start descending, both he and Oasis are back on alert, already saddled and ready to bolt in seconds. 

They approach a barren cliffside, dark stone melded together across a series of peaks. Fir has a hard time believing there could be any kind of settlement way out here; there’s hardly even vegetation. Maybe Moarf was assigned to put him down like a dog somewhere the Kingdom would never need to look at his corpse. 

When Moarf shows no sign of slowing as they near a wall of stone, Fir and Oasis are primed, refusing to go down this way after all their efforts. 

They never get the chance to jump off, as Driver slides into what was once solid with ease, passing the illusion and entering the cavern hidden inside. 

Lit by a series of lanterns, Fir finds himself in the midst of hundreds of towers, each stacked with buildings and balconies overlooking a harsh, dark drop below. Every structure seems hobbled together out of whatever wood they could find, leaning against the other buildings in precarious ways.

Hundreds of people meander about, climbing steps and ladders between structures, crossing bridges, and waving at Moarf upon his entrance. 

The other thing the headquarters had in spades is dragons . 

They mill around large platforms, lazily swiping at one another. A few fly beside Driver for a moment before landing on some nearby perch. They come in droves. Fir notes that none of them are equipped with saddles besides the two he’s currently atop. 

Despite his size, Driver glides through the tight location with ease, clearly familiar with the environment, and approaches what Fir believes to be the center of this establishment. 

The tower rises from the very bottom of the cavern to its roof. Each strand of latterns branches out from the central form, drawing Fir’s eyes into it like a moth to a flame. It hosts a few platforms large enough for the Dragon of the Forests to land on, and Moarf picks the highest one. 

Oasis doesn’t wait for the other dragon to land before he leaps off. It seems insignificant, but any chance to stand on his own is one Fir needs to take. Oasis seems to agree implicitly. 

When they dismount their dragons, a few strangers wandering by give him weird looks as they seem to speed away, whispering to one another as they do. It does very little to ease Fir’s anxiety. 

Fir turns to Moarf for guidance on what to do next, but finds the man is already preoccupied. A woman had run from the central tower to embrace Moarf at their entrance, and Fir respectfully minded his own business and looked away. 

Fir notes the false facade they entered through, just in case. The longer he stays standing out in the open, the more the staring becomes evident. He assumes it’s the bright blue dragon anxiously pacing around him that’s drawing him attention, but something in the back of Fir’s mind worries it’s something else.

The other dragons present in the cavern are all a variety of shades, types, colors, and sizes, but Fir hadn’t spotted a single other Dragon of the Waters. 

Perhaps, Oasis was rarer than he gave it credit for. 

Oasis snorts grumpily at Fir’s silent admission.

Moarf finally remembers Fir existed too, and waves him over, still speaking to the woman. “Ally, this is Fir Underscore. Fir, this is my wife Ally.” Moarf smiles at the two, and Fir is only caught off guard at the name for a moment. 

He stopped using that name once he stopped having a family. 

Social decorum pushes Fir forward, shaking Ally’s hand and smiling like everything about his current situation was perfectly normal, and that name was common knowledge. 

Ally shakes his hand, smiling brightly, “We’re so glad you’re here, everyone’s waiting for you!” Without letting go of his hand, she pulls Fir forward, guiding him towards the brightly lit doorway of the central building. Moarf shrugs at Fir’s confused look and follows beside him. 

Oasis grumbles behind them, and Fir stops outright. 

“Oh, he can come too!” Ally replies happily, gesturing inside. 

Oasis seems just as shocked as Fir at this, but awkwardly follows the group through the large doorway. Fir’s grateful for the support. 

As they step inside the large gathering area, Fir steadies himself for whatever unknown is waiting to greet him. 

“Where is he?” 

Tanner’s getting sick of hearing that question. He still doesn’t have an answer, but that in itself is the wrong answer. 

Even if he lied, his Father wouldn’t be satisfied. 

He always knew when Tanner was lying. It didn’t matter.. He’d treat him the same if he told the truth.

“I don’t know. He never told me.”

The screech of a food tray being pulled out of reach reverberates through the cell. Tanner lifts his head to look at his Father.

They’ve seen better days. It looks like he hasn’t shaved, eaten, or slept since the attack on the Academy. His eyepatch is gone, and the remaining pure white glass bores into Tanner. 

“This is cruel, Tanner. I’ve already lost your Mother, I cannot lose my son too.” 

There are a shocking number of people waiting for Fir inside the tower. 

They look on from balconies, smiling and openly gawking at his arrival. It makes Fir question if any of this was real, or if he was having some sort of egotistical nightmare. 

The sight of Mary Minecraft front and center nearly confirms it’s the latter. 

She rushes forward, dressed in black dragon-riding gear, contrasting a smile bright enough to light up the room. “Fir! Thank goodness you’re alright!” She quickly pulls him in for a hug, and Fir can’t find the strength to return it. 

Pulling back, Mary analyzes every bit of Fir, searching for injury or some other cause for his hesitation.  

It’s her dark eyes that break him. They look too much like her son. 

“Mary- I- we have to go back. Now,” He rips her hands away, pleading she understands what he can’t bear to say. “Tanner, he’s- he’s the only reason I-”

Mary’s face loses its color. 

“Tanner? What did he do?”

Instead of responding, Fir pushed away, stumbling backwards. Oasis caught him before he hit the ground. Deep down, he knew neither of them was in any state to fly, but they needed to try. 

“Tanner, he- in the pass he-”

“He took out the scouts chasing Fir,” Moarf says, voice more serious than Fir had ever heard it. “He- I didn’t see him get back up.” 

For once, Fir was grateful he hadn’t eaten anything today; otherwise, he would’ve emptied his entire stomach in front of all these strangers. 

“He’s dead ?” Fir chokes out, turning back to Moarf. The thought had crossed Fir’s mind a couple of hundred times, but he always managed to push it away. It was a crash; those happen frequently in Tanner’s case. He’d get back up. 

He’d get back up and he’d find Fir, and they’d leave, and- and-

“We need to leave, now !” Fir spins back to Mary, letting himself drop the mask of sanity. He wasn’t fooling anyone anyway, showing up hungry, dehydrated, and frantic. Now he’s screaming demands at the leader he just met.

Mary just looks at Fir with a blank expression. 

“Fir, we- I understand. More than anyone, but just wait a moment, you’re in no state to help,” She’s approaching him as if he were a rabid animal. Perhaps he is. 

“It doesn’t matter, if we don’t go now, he could-” 

“ Fir .” Mary takes him by the shoulders. A few stray tears fall from her eyes. “We have a plan. We can’t afford to stray from it.” 

Before Fir could respond, she quickly pressed on, “ Please listen to us. If our explanation isn’t good enough, we’ll give you enough supplies to be on your way. No questions asked.”

The humming of his bond draws Fir’s attention. Oasis wanted to hear them out, so Fir complied, nodding for Mary to continue. 

“There are two people who really need to meet you,” Mary smiles sadly, turning back to the crowd, and reaching out for two figures to step forward. 

Fir had imagined this moment countless times. It used to be a comforting recurring dream. When the noise of the orphanage got too loud, he’d pretend it was all a misunderstanding, and his parents hadn’t bonded with dragons. They were coming back for him, apologizing for ever leaving him behind. 

Staring into the familiar green eyes of the two people in front of him, Fir can’t decipher how he’s meant to feel. 

He knows them. 

Theoretically. 

He should know them. 

They’d met before, a long time ago. They don’t look familiar. If they passed him on the street, Fir doesn’t know if he’d stop. 

But standing in front of them now, Fir’s mouth goes entirely dry. They’re waiting for him to say something, do something, anything. He can’t feel his legs. It’s too much, too quickly. He needs to go, he needs something to hold onto, he needs-

Tanner stopped being able to tell night from day. The lighting of the dim basement never changed. He’s not sure what his Father wants from him. 

Not Father anymore, Gordon. Right, he’d been corrected. 

He’s a bad listener. 

He hopes Fir’s far from here. 

He tries to save his energy. For what, he’s not sure. 

Maybe he’s just resting his eyes.

Fir wakes up staring at a ceiling of overlapping sheets of wood. His head is throbbing as he attempts to sit up in the unfamiliar mattress. The room is cramped, nothing but a cot on the floor, one dim light overhead, and a bottle of water to his side. 

Glancing around, all of Fir’s body parts are accounted for. He’s still dressed in riding gear and the blue shirt he’d stolen from Tanner. The reminder makes Fir want to simultaneously rip the thing off and cradle it to his body. 

He chugs the water beside him as he reconnects with reality. He concludes that he passed out in front of the crowd of people who were ready to greet them. 

Embarrassing. 

Fuck where is Oasis? They need to get out of here.

The creaking of a door forces Fir to sit up, arms poised for attack. He digs into his subconscious, searching for his bond. Distantly, he registers that Oasis is feeling worried and confused. He pulls on it, trying to guide Oasis to his location through sheer willpower. 

When Fir sees who opened the door, he drops his defense. Mary steps inside, closing off the exit softly behind her. 

“Fir, I’m happy to see you’re awake. I’m- we’re so sorry about earlier. We shouldn’t have overwhelmed you like that, but well, I’m sure you can understand why we were so adamant about being there as soon as you got here.”

“Where is here?” Fir croaked out. There’s no use for decorum; these people have already seen the worst of him. “Who were those- why did you bring me here?” His shaky voice rose in volume at each word. He’s tired of being dragged along in the unknown. He can’t handle it anymore.

Not by himself.

Not looking into those oh, too familiar eyes. 

Mary sighs, sitting down on the cot beside Fir. 

“It’s a long story, but you deserve to hear it.”

Tanner broke. 

He confessed. 

He needed food. 

He told Gordon about the letters Fir had been receiving, how they were guiding him, how he burned each one to hide the evidence.

How they were only ever signed with the letter M. 

As it turns out, no one’s been able to find Moarf recently.

He’s attempting to ration the meal he was given, hiding the flask of water behind his back, all too aware of how quickly it can be ripped away. 

He hopes Fir forgives his betrayal. 

He hopes Fir is so far away from here, it won’t matter.

Mary wasn’t exaggerating; it was a long story. 

She prefaced her tale with one ominous statement. “You don’t have to believe me. You don’t have to forgive me. I only ask that you listen.”

When the Kingdom still survived under a monarchy, the Minecrafts served as a long line of royal advisors for the royal family. When the royalty abandoned their titles, the Minecrafts were desperate to maintain their wealth and influence.

What they couldn’t prove with money, they made up for in perceived social status and a privileged facade. “Everyone assumed the Minecrafts were as powerful as they were because they had money backing them up. That was a dangerous assumption to make,” Mary explained. 

Debt can make you desperate. There was one resource that Minecraft’s had access to that they could profit from. 

“On the very outskirts of the kingdom, the Minecraft’s own ore mine. Over time, due to a lack of human presence, the mine became more of a dragon sanctuary. It was home to hundreds of dragon nests.” Her eyes are dark as she says it. “They began charging a hefty price for people to witness eggs hatching, giving patrons the chance to become dragon-bonded.” 

Mary exhales deeply, as if she were attempting to cool her rage.

“There is no regard for the dragon. If they don’t bond, they are forced to join the cycle of mining and breeding. Or worse.” 

Fir assumes he doesn’t want to hear any more details. 

Mary hailed from a family of dragon experts. Despite not being bonded to a dragon herself, she was raised around them, working at the Academy, checking on, and maintaining their health. 

That’s where she’d met Gordon. 

“I wish I could say I distrusted him from the start, but the truth is worse. The truth is, I loved him.” She confesses it as if she’s confessing to a murder. Fir can’t bring himself to look at her as she says it.

“He was kind back then. He had a lot of dreams I wanted to believe in. We both thought the kingdom was cruel to dragons, using them as tools rather than respecting them as powerful beings. I thought they should be given more agency. Bonding is a choice, and they deserved to make it and continue to exist in freedom outside of it.

Gordon… would say what I wanted to hear. It took me a while to realize that. The wealth, the charm, it distracted me from what was actually important. We funded a variety of Dragon Habitats, all in the name of changing how the Kingdom views them. I thought I was making a difference. It took having Tanner to get me to open my eyes.”

Fir willed his heart to be calm at the sound of Tanner’s name.

“That’s when I started questioning what Gordon was looking into when he would leave home. Each year, wealthy heirs bonded to a variety of Dragon types, when the only sanctuaries we had access to housed Dragons of the Fires and Forests.

Then, he brought me Nova.”

Mary had retrieved a necklace from beneath her shirt. It held a single black scale. It looked smooth to the touch, yet it reflected no light. It was pure darkness itself, just like the dragon that had attacked the Academy. 

“I heard about… Nova. That you lost them when Tanner was young,” Fir says slowly, trying to make sense of each reveal after the other. Mary simply smiled to herself.

“Yes, well. I needed them to think that.

When Gordon presented Nova’s egg to me, I knew it was a distraction, something to keep me from looking into his business.”

That’s when she found out everything. How the Minecraft family really made their fortune, what was actually happening in the mines, and their plans for Tanner. They wanted to train him, to ensure he would continue the Minecraft legacy, to make him a dragon trainer, and ensure he could take over when Gordon couldn’t anymore. Their connections with the government would continue to grow, and they would raise Tanner to be the Kingdom’s ruler . 

“I acted like I agreed. For Tanner’s sake. But that was the beginning of the end.”

When Nova was large enough to fly, Mary utilized her stealth to break into the mines, stealing eggs and freeing the dragons she could. She never got caught, always having an alibi at the Academy. There wouldn’t be any reason to suspect the wife of the mine’s owner.

“You weren’t the first person desperate to get away from the Academy, Fir. You were definitely the most open about it, at least initially.” She paused, waiting for something. Fir didn’t respond; his mind was reeling.

“That’s how I met Daniel and Holly.”

Fir’s parents. 

He could’ve sworn he’d blotted those names out of his mind. He drops his head into his hands, feeling his headache begin to return.

Gordon visits sporadically. It’s fucking with Tanner’s head. 

Sometimes he’s his Father, sympathetic and so disappointed. Other times, he’s a harsh interrogator, desperate for any clues of Fir’s location. Of his Mother’s location.

When Tanner hears another voice, he doesn’t know how to react. 

“Tanner, turn around,” a woman commands. 

Tanner was made to follow orders. 

Jaiden slips him a canteen through the bars. “It’s disgusting, but you have to drink it all. You have to stay alive.” 

He does as he’s told.

“They knew where I was, this whole time?” Fir asks, still hiding his face in his hands. Mary rubs his back. 

“You have to understand, by the time they got out, you were an adult with a new name and life. They did everything they possibly could to find you, but then… plans changed.”

Fir tries to meet Mary’s eyes, but now she is the one looking away.

“We needed a distraction. The Academy is fractured, looking for you and whatever attacked the Kingdom; their resources are stretched thin, and we have enough people to bring the mines down.

We sent you the egg, we sent you those letters, we recruited Jaiden and Jacob, and Nova and I attacked, just to allow you to escape-”

“Allow me to- Allow me to escape? You’re the only reason I was there!” Fir stands, pacing around the small space. “You- you found me, why didn’t my parents just take me back? Why didn’t you save your son? Why did you pick me? ”

Mary looks up at him, tears forming in the corner of her eyes, but her face remains stony. “I couldn’t save my son, but I could save someone else's. Now, we can save the thousands of dragons trapped and tortured. I had to make a choice.”

Any momentum, any words Fir was prepared to scream, were lost in an instant. 

“I’m not asking for forgiveness, Fir,” she continues softly, “What I’ve done is inexcusible. I failed him. He made a sacrifice for you; we have to act before it's all for nothing.”

Tears are rolling down Fir’s face, but he doesn’t move to stop them. He takes a few seconds to look at the woman sitting in front of him. She’s been fighting a war on the inside for years, and her victory is in sight, yet right now, she looks entirely defeated. 

Fir’s having a tough time feeling sympathetic.

“I’ll help you destroy the mines, not because I’m on your side, but because I’m going to tear down everything the Minecraft family has ever done.” He gulps down his nerves, allowing himself to feel nothing but rage. “I’m going to kill your husband, and if you try to stop me, I will kill you too.”

Mary nods. “We leave in the morning. You should speak with your parents before you go.”

She exits, and in the privacy of the closed door, Fir breaks down again.

Tanner’s mind is returning. 

Slowly.

Whatever Jaiden gave him is helping. His head isn’t pounding at all times, and his vision is clearer.

It’s the small things.

When Gordon returns, Tanner has taken up ignoring him. If the man wants him to starve, he’ll starve. Jaiden will return later.

“If I knew where he was, I’d die before I told you,” Tanner spat out at the man standing on the other side of the bars.

“Then you will.”

Fir is standing in the eye of the hurricane. The universe could not take anything else from him. He’s surrounded by dragons and rebels who turned him into a soldier he did not want to be. Now, his ex-teacher is taking him to meet the parents who chose this over him. 

Can’t get much worse. 

They’re waiting for him in a private parlor, a better alternative than the day before.

His mom, Holly, is pacing around the room that Fir is ushered into. Daniel, his dad, is sitting staring intently at the entrance. They both freeze when Fir steps inside. 

Fir’s memories of these two were foggy. The only thing his mind was able to recall from his childhood was the smell of his mom’s expensive perfume and the itch of his dad’s beard. Now his mom is dressed plainly, and his dad is clean-shaven. 

Strangers.

The pair of them, his parents, glance at each other before they say anything. 

“I’m- I’m so sorry. We had planned what to say when we saw you, but…” Holly trails off, taking slow, purposeful steps towards Fir. “Seeing you. It’s you. You’re my-.” 

She chokes up at the last word, covering her mouth as she stands in front of him. They’re about the same height, Fir only slightly taller with his riding boots on. She’s waiting for something, for permission. Fir takes a deep breath and opens his arms, certain this is going to hurt. 

The hug is tight, and his shirt is going to be damp with tears if Holly ever lets him go. It should be perfect, should be the thing Fir had dreamed about for years, but it feels wrong. It feels like he’s standing where someone else should be. 

When she finally relents, Molly cradles Fir’s face. That’s what caused him to notice he’s also crying.

“We’ve missed you so much. Every single thing we’ve done all these years has been for you to-” she’s starting to choke up again, so Daniel picks up where she left off. 

“To get here. To see you again.”

Daniel steps forward, and they’re all hugging now. Fir’s crying harder now. It’s suffocating. It’s wrong . He doesn’t deserve this. They don’t deserve this.

Fir pulls away, stepping back slowly. They let him go, but their arms still reach for him. “I- I talked with Mary, you- you knew where I was. You sent me Oasis.”

Daniel nods, tears welling in his eyes as well. 

“It was hell, but we knew you could do it. You’d get under their skin and get away. You’d give us a chance to end this, Fir. You’ve saved all of us.”

Holly nods, “We can end this, and be a family.”

Fir’s shaking his head before he can form words. “No, no, you don’t understand. I didn’t do any of that. Tanner; he was the one who- he killed-”

They’re doing it again, glancing at each other before they speak. He’s starting to hate it.

“Fir,” his dad begins, “It was very clever of you to attach yourself to the Minecraft heir; it kept eyes on you and bought you some protection. It’s also what has the Academy in shambles.”

Fir is stunned into silence. Clever? Was it clever to duck behind Tanner for shelter? To let him take the hits, facing his Father alone?

How clever of Fir to fall in love and watch them sacrifice themself for him. 

Now he can move on with his life with a clear conscience. 

The two seem to sense Fir’s inner conflict and step forward, reaching out again. As their fingers brush against Fir’s arms, he jumps back, no longer able to handle any contact with them. 

“Do- do you think I just… tricked him? To get away?” He glances between them with eyes wide. “And-and you were proud of it? That I killed him and left without looking back?”

They’re doing it again . Glancing at each other, communicating silently, questioning how they move forward. It doesn’t matter what they say; the sound of Fir’s own heartbeat is too loud to hear anything else. 

It’s too much; he rushes out of the room, not stopping for either of his parents' desperate cries. 

“Hey, you there?” A new voice whispers to Tanner in the darkness. He doesn’t move, racking his brain, attempting to identify the mysterious voice. 

“C’mon, man, Jaiden’s busy, you gotta drink this!” That gets him to roll over. 

Jacob is kneeling outside the bars, hood doing a poor job of disguising his bright hair. He smiles, sliding the familiar canteen between the bars. 

“Look alive! Shits going down tomorrow!”

Oasis and Fir hold up on a ledge as they prepare for the next day. 

They’re both content to avoid everyone else in this dragon-hippie commune. 

“Your parents are here, too, technically. This is where your egg was from,” Fir says as he idly trims the dragon’s claws. “So we both have long-lost parents to avoid.”

Oasis grumbles lowly, flicking their tail to drop it into Fir’s lap. The weight is a nice reminder to stay focused on what’s really happening. If he had any more tears left to cry, Fir would probably start sobbing again. 

“I’m sorry about Flare.” Oasis flinches at the sound of their mate’s name, cooing lowly, as if they were injured. “We’ll make them pay. I promise.” The tail tightens, pulling Fir into Oasis’s side, unable to escape their crushing hug. 

They fall asleep like that, holding onto the only living creature they can trust anymore. 

They’re woken up all too soon by the screeching of hundreds of dragons and the alarms of hundreds of trumpets. They’re up and alert in seconds.

Today’s the day. 

People are gathering near the central tower where Fir was first brought. Some are astride dragons, some dragons and humans stand alone. The only thing everyone has in common is being decked out in battle gear. 

Several groups are passing out weapons and armor. Fir slowly makes his way towards one of them, grabbing a breastplate and helmet and tying a crossbow and sword to his side. Equipping the sword earns him a weird look from an older man, but Fir brushes it off. He needs a close-range weapon.

Gordon Minecraft needs to know who killed him. 

Fir snatches a tattered cloak as well, a hodgepodge of fabrics thrown together. It does little to disguise his blonde hair and large bright blue dragon, but it’s the thought that counts.

A hush falls upon the crowd when the central tower shakes, the force caused by a Dragon of the Shadows landing on top of it. 

No light reflects off of Nova’s ebony scales, making them an imperceivable void towering above the group. Mary Minecraft slid off their saddle, striding to the balcony’s edge, overlooking the crowd.

“The battle of our lives ends today. Today, we free the captive dragons and make ourselves known to the Kingdom of Prime. We will be free to return to our lives, to our families, and to our home.” She glances back at Nova for a second. 

“All of us.”

From across the platform, Fir spots his parents, both saddled on one large shiny blue dragon. Of course, his parents' dragon is his dragon’s parent.

Oasis doesn’t even need to be asked to start moving in the opposite direction from them. Their bond has never been so secure and immediate. It’s nice to know Fir isn’t falling into a hole of grief all by himself.

“We will move in waves. Scouts have already been sent. It’s important to remain stealthy until the moment we all strike. Their defenses are sporadic and disorganized, so we must remain strong where they are weak.”

Mary speaks like she was made for this. She has the perfect projecting voice for this kind of announcement. Unfortunately, it was too similar to the commanding voice of her husband. What a pair the two of them were. No wonder their son demanded attention and feared it all the same. 

“We’ve all made great sacrifices to be where we are, but none more than the Dragons. They have been hunted, trapped, killed, and enslaved. It is only because of them that we have continued to survive, and it is for them that we do this.”

There is an uproar of shouts and cries from humans and dragons alike, raising their fists as they do so. Mary raises her arms, silencing them once again. 

“Do what you must, the time to leave is now!”

The outcry is even louder than before. Dragons rise in chaotic flight, everyone is pushing, shoving, laughing as they suit up for war. Fir hops on Oasis’ saddle before he gets lost in the crowd. In the distance, he spots Moarf and Ally on Driver and takes off to follow behind them. 

He doesn’t spare his parents another look and does not acknowledge Mary’s eyes following his movements, either. He owes them nothing.

He knows what he wants.

Nova leads the way, and they’re on their way back to the Kingdom of Prime. 

Gordon is back, pacing in front of Tanner’s cell. His ramblings are incomprehensible, and in such a short time, he’s managed to age horribly. 

Their eyepatch has returned, but it was clear they did not attempt to improve anything else about their appearance. 

He looks wild, unkempt, and unbecoming for a Minecraft. Tanner knows he’s not faring much better, but at least he has a reason.

“Look what they’ve done to us. I told you- I told you they were all against us. They were always trying to get us- this is what they wanted, but they only think they’ve won! It’s not over!”

Tanner does his best to tune the insanity out, but can only do so much. The pillar of his life that once defined respect and order is crumbling before him. 

Is he just supposed to look away?

The flight back to the Kingdom is longer than Fir remembers. He was, in fact, unconscious during his first ride over, but now, he’s never been more alert, despite his lack of sleep. 

It’s strange, trying to have some alone time as you weave through the trees alongside an army of dragons. 

Moarf is ahead of Fir, chatting with his wife, who has joined him riding on Driver. Oasis hid behind the larger dragon, avoiding Fir’s parents. He knew they were somewhere in the crowd, and he did not want to have that conversation yet.

Fir was on his way to kill a man, and they wouldn’t want him to be their son after that. 

This was for the best.

The hardest part of being alone is having too much time to think. He wonders what the Academy is doing during all this with their limited security. They still haven’t retrieved Fir, despite reportedly attempting to do so. He wonders what they told his troupe. He wonders if they suspect any of them of assisting him. 

He wonders if Gordon is mourning his son or mourning the investment he made. He wonders if he even cares. 

Fir couldn’t wait to see the look on that bastard’s face when their empire is burning in front of their eyes. 

That alone motivates him to continue, Oasis practically vibrating in anticipation beneath them. They’d have justice for their mate. 

As they near their destination, it becomes clear exactly where the Kingdom’s soldiers have been dispersed to. The walls of the kingdom have an increase of scouts, monitoring and watching for any shifts on the horizon. 

The Kingdom is not the target of their first attack, but no one could have predicted where they’d be heading. The borders of the lands aren’t nearly as protected. 

According to Mary, most of the mines on the edge of Prime are legitimate, procuring resources necessary for the Kingdom and its trade. Their target is one nestled in a cavern beneath one of the highest mountains in the range.

It’s time to move. 

Fir draws his crossbow and follows the fast-moving chain of dragons into the dark, gaping depths of the unknown, diving into the lion's den with the others. He had no idea what to expect, but never in his wildest dreams could he have imagined what it was. 

“Mine” is technically the correct description of the cavern waiting for them. 

Nightmare could also suffice. 

No lanterns are lighting the space; the only way they see is by the eerie lighting of the glowing red lava pouring throughout the caverns. At first, Fir questions how any human could work in these conditions, but realizes that no humans are here at all. 

Each platform, cave, and route is populated with dragons . They pull machines, pushing mills, dragging carts, and trudging through the heat. Fir can’t get a good enough look to identify any specific types of dragons, but does notice they all have one single thing in common. 

They’re all strapped with a heavy metal clamp, forcing their wings closed and tucked to their bodies. Some are chained to each other, marching in line. Others were connected to contraptions, pulling and pushing complex machines. 

It all makes Fir want to throw up. There are no other humans present except for the ones leaping off dragons and ripping chains from the walls. 

Why are these dragons doing this if nothing is enforcing them?

Fir wishes he had never found out the answer. 

The central river of lava slowly begins to rise, and any beasts that can scramble to get away from the heat. Oasis flaps away from the warmth, crying out in distress as they do. Something is about to happen, something Oasis is fearing, and Fir can’t comprehend.

Initially, Fir feared that the dragons trapped on the ground would be killed, but as the whole cavern continued to shake, he discovered a new fear. 

Rising from the magma, carelessly destroying anything getting too close, burning anything that wasn’t fast enough to get away, is a dragon a size Fir did not think was physically possible. 

 The cavern as a whole is barely large enough to contain them. Their wings are folded over, shaking out bits of lava as they move. There is no way its wings could open in this space. The panic from the dragons was warranted, as every time Fir thinks this massive dragon has reached its peak, it continues rising from the lake of lava.

“Get the dragons out, now !” Mary’s voice breaks through the insanity as she and Nova shoot off towards the gargantuan beast. Fir doesn’t need to be told twice; Oasis is already dropping into action, despite their terror.

They dive down, crashing into structures and ripping out any chains and anchors they see as fast as they can. Fir tries not to enjoy the pure destruction too much, but Oasis is clearly having the time of his life. They channel the heat of the room, melting what they can’t physically break, as Fir shoots random bolts from his crossbow at the gigantic monster that rose from the depths.

The moment nothing's keeping them back, the contained dragons scramble out towards the exit on foot. Their wings will eventually be freed when they exit, but right now their number one priority is getting the dragons out . 

Suddenly, through their bond, Fir feels a shiver run down his spine. It forces him to sit up straight in his saddle. Oasis’s head pokes up as well, pausing mid-bite to glance around the cavern for the cause of the alarm. 

It’s chaos in the mine, shrieks, and screams meld together as the contained and freed beasts cry out and scramble for escape. The all-encompassing dragon is momentarily distracted, swatting at Nova’s quick movements and destroying everything in their way as they do. 

And yet, Fir hears it. 

One single cry from the distance stands out in his mind, and Oasis is taking off in its direction before they can begin to understand it. Fir can’t explain it, but they are certain that this goal is more important than anything else. 

Even in the darkness, Fir sees them. A Dragon of the Fires and desperately pulling at four restraints, keeping them chained to a shaking platform. Their dark red and black scales reflect the warm lighting of the room as they screech out for help.

Oasis nose dived, aiming straight for their chains. Fir leaps off just before the impact. 

Nothing was going to stop Oasis from freeing their mate. 

The dragon makes quick work of each of the four anchors as Fir loosens the restraints around their wings. “Hey, big guy,” Fir mumbles as Flare drops its head on his shoulder, purring despite the situation. Fir can’t tell if he’s overwhelmed by happiness or grief all at the same time. 

The moment they can move, Flare is embracing Oasis. Their opposing colors and scales merge as they both refuse to stop moving or separate. They’re desperate to prove that it is, in fact, their mate that’s here with them now. 

Fir feels the void in the bottom of his heart expand, mourning a reunion he will never get. 

The platform shudders, throwing Fir onto his knees. Oasis cries out for him as the platform buckles underneath itself, dropping and taking Fir with it. 

Claws are wrapping around Fir’s center, and they’re being snatched and clumsily lifted in flight. He can’t even tell which dragon is holding onto him. They’re shooting off towards the exit as quickly as possible, and originally, Fir wanted to protest, but from this vantage point, it’s clear there’s no use. 

The mine is collapsing around, and the destruction is certain. 

They did it. 

Exhaustion overwhelms Fir as he ragdolls in the hold of the dragon, carrying him back towards the light. 

They’re pivoted and dropped unceremoniously on a nearby cliffside. They do their best to stand on shaky legs and run back to hug Oasis and Flare. 

“Flare!” The Dragon of the Fires looks worse for wear, but is standing nevertheless. There are a few more streaks of red scales across their body, a sign of scarring, and they lean heavily on the legs of their right. 

But he’s alive. They survived the fall. 

A dangerous bit of hope bubbles within Fir, and he can’t bring himself to stifle it. 

“Flare, what happened?” Fir reaches out, hands on either side of the massive creature's head, staring into its wide lavender eyes that narrow on him. They have their tail firmly intertwined with Oasis’, who is tucked firmly at their mate's side. 

Fir laughs at himself. As if Flare could answer. 

Flare nudges him with their head abruptly, pulling back, and doing it again, grumbling louder. Oasis perks up at the unusual behavior, tilting their head curiously. Flare bows their head, lowering to the ground in front of Fir, and makes a low, distressed rumble. 

Oasis stands up, spreading their wings wide in response. They whip their head between their bonded and their mate several times before they come to some sort of conclusion. 

Fir meets those shockingly yellow eyes again and is reminded of the alley they were in when they first met. That bond, that irreversible connection, feels like it’s burning within Fir. 

“Alive. Flare’s bonded is alive.”

Fir is stock still for a moment, needing time to process, and then he’s running to Flare’s side. “Tanner’s alive?” he practically screams at the dragon, who is nodding frantically, standing on shaky legs with stretched wings.

“Take me to him.”

There’s more noise at the Academy than Tanner is used to. 

It’s muffled, the sounds of guards barking orders, and a general uproar of disagreements being received in response, but Tanner knows conflict when he hears it. 

He also knows the sound of Gordon sprinting towards him. 

“Tanner, get up, we’re leaving.”

That’s new. It’s new enough to get Tanner to sit up. 

“What?” 

“They’re here. For us. They’ve taken… they destroyed the… we have to go. Now. Get up.”

Oasis disagrees, protesting through their bond the moment the decision was made, but the truth is, there are only so many Dragons of the Waters in the Kingdom of Prime, and they are already on high alert. 

Fir would have a lot more success on a dragon belonging to a member of the Minecraft family. 

“Help the others get that shit off their wings. I’ll be back, I promise.” Fir calls out to Oasis, unaware of the Dragon of the Shadows watching them from a distance. 

Flare is a little shaky, but he remains airborne, heading back towards the Kingdom that Fir abandoned. 

Back towards the Academy. 

Back towards Tanner.

Fir holds his breath and ducks his head, pulling his hood over his hair, as they near the walls. Many guards look in his direction and then look away at the sight of the Dragon of the Fires. Nothing suspicious about that.

“Flare, your reputation precedes you,” Fir whispers. The sight of the Kingdom from above is strange. He’d never imagined seeing it at this angle, and when he’d left, he hadn’t exactly given it a good look. 

Was it always that grimy?

As Flare approached the Academy, Fir guessed they’d land on some balcony or tower, but the dragon immediately pivoted lower. As they neared the walls, Fir was given a bird’s eye view of the chaos occurring within the Academy.

Guards are sprinting across fields, some on dragons who appear alert, but not universally focused. Discord and disorder abound; there are shouts from officials and students alike. Professors stand around screaming at one another. 

It’s beautiful.

Fir wishes he had time to revel in it, but Flare is beginning to make a rough landing in a very familiar courtyard. Fir doesn’t hesitate to dismount, prepared to follow the dragon’s lead wherever they sense their bonded. 

“Fir?” a voice calls out behind him, and Fir doesn’t think before raising a loaded crossbow in the direction it came from. 

Jaiden raises her hands in surrender, eyes wide. Ari, the Dragon of the Winds, standing behind her, screeches at Fir. He lowers his weapon as quickly as he raised it. “Jaiden, where’s Tanner?” 

“I don’t know, his Father moved him, we’re looking-”

Flare roars louder than Fir thought physically possible. Jaiden covers her ears, and Fir searches for the cause of the alarm. 

When he sees it, Fir wants to scream too. 

On the balcony, on their balcony, Tanner is leaning over the rails, looking down at the chaos below. They’re incredibly dependent on the railing, legs too weak to support their weight. His wrists are cuffed together, weakening their hold. His unkept hair is sticking out, partially slicked with blood, and the bags under his red eyes are visible even from a distance. 

But he’s alive . Breathing. Looking down at Fir and Flare. 

Getting back onto the dragon would take too much time, so Flare snatches Fir into his claws once again, flying them both up to the balcony. 

Fir drops into a roll before he hits the ground, immediately sprinting towards Tanner. He might be screaming; he can’t tell. That’s not the priority. 

Fir’s stopped in his tracks by the other figure standing on the balcony. 

Dressed in the same outfit he wore the day of the exam, is Gordon Minecraft. His expensive shirt is untucked and stained. Their elegant red coat has clear rips and bare threads. Their eyepatch is on, but slightly askew. Fir catches a glimpse of their pure white scarred eye, but he’s more distracted by the crossbow directed at Tanner’s head. 

Time pauses, Flare bares his teeth, but it equally as frozen as Fir is. 

“Move and I shoot.” 

Tanner seems to be fighting to remain conscious. One eye is swollen with a clear bruise surrounding it. They barely managed to turn and face Fir. They’re very dependent on the railing behind them, but they’re still attempting to stand. 

“Fir- it’s okay, everything's okay, just go-”

Their voice is scratchy from lack of use, but it’s his voice, and Fir could sob out of relief just from hearing it. He was so sure he’d never hear it again. He survived, and he’s here . 

Fir takes a step forward without thinking. 

Gordon presses the weapon directly onto Tanner’s head. “I said, don’t move!”

Fir freezes, but doesn’t surrender yet. He refuses to be intimidated, but there are some things he’s not willing to risk. They slowly reach towards their belt, where their only remaining weapon is. 

Fir hopes they’re not to move too quickly. 

He doesn’t look away from Tanner, not for a second, as they speak to Gordon. 

“Okay. Okay. I’m not moving.”

Gordon has never looked more manic. Their eye is bloodshot and rapidly jumping from Fir to their son and back. 

“You- you thought you won? Thought you got away? But you came back! Just like I needed you to. Just like I wanted you to!” He points harshly in Fir’s direction, stumbling as he does. Fir uses the momentary distraction to advance, just a bit. 

“I was always going to come back to kill you, no matter what,” Fir growled. Tanner’s breath stuttered visibly in their chests at Fir’s confession. “Even before I thought you killed your own son, even before you held a bolt to his head, I was going to kill you for everything you’ve done.” 

The unstable man laughed, swaying as he did. “I was setting plans in motion to have you killed the moment you set foot in the Academy!” His words were slurred, but he leveled the crossbow once again. “I shouldn’t have bothered. I should have just strangled you then and there. You took my son from me; I don’t have a son anymore!” 

Tears are streaming down Tanner’s face as they try to pull away from the man who was once their Father. 

“You never deserved your son, you egotistical bastard,” Fir called out at him. “You’ve lost . Your largest source of income has caved in, your Academy is in shambles, and your own wife is revealing to the whole Kingdom just how many politicians you have in your pocket. You have nothing left !” Fir let rage guide him as he screamed at the man, continuing to take imperceptible movements forward, hand firmly gripping his blade.

“If you surrender now, I won’t kill you.”

Gordon laughed, honest to God laughed , in Fir’s face. “Oh, really? How generous. You really must work on your pitch, Fir.” He says the name like it’s an insult. “Though I doubt someone of your status would have much practice in respectable conversation.” 

If Fir leaps, he could take Gordon down. All it would take is one stab, but their crossbow is still drawn, still threatening a very silent, barely conscious Tanner. 

He’s so close, they’re so close. 

“No, I guess I didn’t have much training to be like you, but your family seems to like me more.” 

Gordon snickers, sparing the Academy below a glance. 

The battle has shifted; Fir can’t identify which dragon riders are loyal to the Kingdom or to the Dragons themselves. Trainees and guards are fighting one another. He spots Ari attacking a trebuchet, and Eric astride Fawn, chasing away archers. 

Gordon’s small snicker is shifted into hysterics as the proof of his defeat overwhelms him. In shaking laughter, he smacks Tanner’s head with the butt of his crosbow, sending the younger man to his knees. Fir cries out, stepping forward, but stops when the weapon is leveled at the other man’s head. 

“Stop it!” Fir screams as Tanner grunts in pain, hazy eyes desperately trying to find Fir’s, “What do you want ?” 

“You get me a dragon, and you tell every one of those traitorous miscreants to let me go, and you can have this pathetic excuse for an heir.” 

Tanner slumps at his being mentioned, coughing harshly. Fir can just barely make out Tanner’s voice whispering, “Fir, don’t, it’s not worth it, he’ll do worse I-”

“Deal.” Fir steps back, raising their hands in surrender, surrendering like Tanner did for him. “I’ll get you a dragon. I’ll tell them to stand down, just don’t hurt him.” Fir begs, not even certain he has the authority to do any of that. 

He has to try. Tanner is right there . 

Before Fir can even begin to formulate a plan, the balcony is shaking from the weight of another beast landing on it. Gordon screams, grabbing hold of Tanner’s neck, forcing them to stand in front of them, using their own son as a human shield. 

Nova, the beast of pure darkness, roars at Gordon as Mary Minecraft climbs off. Fir wishes he could understand what she was thinking in this moment. She appeared unnervingly calm in front of her former husband and still-living son. 

“Gordon. It’s over. Drop him.” She commands, firm and certain. She navigates this traumatic event with calm that Fir hasn’t experienced in decades. 

Gordon Minecraft’s facade was not nearly as shiny. 

They gawk at the woman in disbelief. Their frantic eyes and a shaking body finally revealed his inner madness to the outside world. It’s a standstill between the two former partners, one already proven to be the victor. 

A wicked grin breaks out on Gordon’s face. 

“As you wish.”

Mary’s face crumbles, morphing into a scream, racing forward, but neither she nor Fir has time to react. 

Gordon shoves Tanner backwards, throwing their own son, handcuffed, beaten, and bleeding, over the edge of the balcony. 

Fir doesn’t remember running to where Tanner had just been standing, can’t remember pulling out their sword, all they know is one second they were crying out, and the next, they were tackling Gordon, sword drawn, prepared to slay the monster.  

He doesn’t feel anything when he raises his weapon. His heart has already been ripped out of his body. Gordon is shaking below him, not from fear of Fir, but out of laughter. Laughing as they kill their son, the man Fir loved and never got to tell. He has half a mind to rip their throat out to stop the laughter. 

They’re ready to strike them down where they lie. No one is more deserving of a coward's death. 

Before they can, a hand is grabbing his sword, pulling him back, preventing justice . Fir screams in frustration, bordering on a wail at being prevented from killing the murderer below them. 

The hands, whoever’s it is, pulls Fir off the man. He doesn’t go easily. He screams, kicks, and squirms, trying to get back, trying to kill that monster. 

Gordon remains on the ground, laughter transforming into convulsions.

Mary is saying something, trying to get Fir to listen, but he can’t comprehend anything over the sound of his ears ringing. 

The only thing that breaks him from his trance is the humming in the back of his mind. The humming that could only be caused by the catalyst of all of this, his dragon’s bond.

Oasis is here. He’s nearby, and he’s calling out for help. 

Rising from below the balcony, a cascade of blue scales rises, crashing down onto the balcony, covering Gordon’s body with their claws, and baring their teeth directly into the man’s face, fangs inches away from the one-eyed man’s head. 

That’s not what matters to Fir in that second. 

The man on the dragon's back, sliding off ungracefully and leaning heavily on Oasis to stand, is. 

Tanner’s shirt is torn, and their handcuffs remain as metal restraints on their wrists, though the chain between them has snapped. There's a still bleeding gash on their shoulder, soaking into their dirtied shirt, but Tanner doesn’t seem to care. 

Fir doesn’t either.

Tanner pushes off the beast, exerting all their strength to run to Fir. Mary does nothing to prevent Fir from standing, sprinting to meet the other, refusing to slow down.

It’s not graceful how they meet. It’s a crash, like the first day they’d met at the academy. Like their first attempts to fly. Like the sacrifice Tanner made for Fir’s escape. 

There’s not a single bit of it that Fir would want to change. 

Neither hesitated to press their mouths together, arms wrapping around each other, clawing and gripping at whatever they could reach, terrified they’d be gone in the next second. Fir drags Tanner down and stands on his toes to reach up. Tanner follows his lead without question. Fir’s fingers thread into Tanner’s hair like they were made for it. They kiss with too much teeth and tongue, and love every second of it. 

Tanner’s too-long nails scratched into Fir’s back, gripping his side hard enough to bruise. Fir hoped it did. Hoped he could get it tattooed into his skin, a reminder that Tanner isn’t dead. He’s here, kissing him like their lives depended on it. 

Fir never wants it to end. Wants to hold his breath and drown in it. They pull away for half a second, gulping in air, before they’re both diving back in. Their hands are wandering, scraping, searching for purchase. 

It’s perfect, it’s perfect, it’s perfect. 

Flare grumbles, smacking Fir’s legs with his tail. That gets the couple to pull their mouths away from each other, but not too quickly. They’re still breathing heavily into each other's mouths for a moment before they manage to lean back far enough to look each other in the eyes. 

Fir’s hands cradle Tanner’s face as tears slowly stream down his own. “You’re alive. You lived, I thought you- in the pass that you-” 

“No, Flare saved me. I’ve been here the whole- why are you here? Why’d you come back-”

They’re speaking over each other, words overlapping, not understanding one another, too thrilled at the other’s existence to care about clear communication. 

Fir practically slams his head into Tanner’s chest as they hug, desperate to hear their heart beat. Desperate to confirm over and over again that this is real. 

“Tanner, is that you?” A voice that was moments ago strong and commanding speaks timidly. Fir reaches for his sword as he turns to face it before he remembers it’s Mary. “We were told you-”

Tanner steps back and would have collapsed again if Fir wasn’t there to catch him. He’s stepping away from his mother. 

“Mother, why was Nova,” the dragon standing behind her shifts at her name being mentioned, “attacking the Academy? People got hurt-”

“Tanner, I know I can explain, just give me one second-”

From beneath Oasis’s claws, Gordon flinches. They raise their voice, attempting to speak again. Oasis is far louder, roaring over the noise. They do not want another word to leave Gordon’s mouth, and Fir has to agree. 

“Let me take care of this, and I swear to you, I will answer every question you have,” Mary pleads, but it does not come across as genuine as she makes a series of hand motions to the incoming group of dragon riders, prioritizing them over Tanner.

Fir couldn't care less. 

Tanner leans heavily on him as he walks towards Flare, who is pacing with excitement to be reunited with their bonded. 

“Hey, big guy, I owe you one. I owe you a lot of ones,” Tanner does their best to hug the consistently moving dragon far larger than himself. “It’s good to see you, too.” 

Fir refuses to leave. 

Even when the hospital staff gives him suspicious looks, he refuses to leave. Fir holds Tanner’s hand, idly rubbing their thumb against the other’s knuckles, keeping him conscious and present enough to answer questions. Reminding him that this is real. Fir’s here, holding their hand, living and breathing. 

Refusing to leave. 

Tanner is malnourished and has an array of nasty cuts and bruises marring their body. On the bright side, there are no serious injuries to be addressed. The description of his lack of nutrition makes Fir even angrier that he wasn’t allowed to gut Minecraft Senior when he had the chance. 

“Jaiden brought me something. I don’t really remember a lot of it. I told him about the letters- oh my God I’m so sorry-”

Fir kisses his apologies away. There’s nothing to be sorry for. Nothing for Tanner to be sorry for. 

They leave together, returning to meet with the disbanded Academy together. They speak with officials, giving statements and explanations for the never-ending series of questions they’re asked. Anything to be able to leave.

It’s a late night in Minecraft Manor. The massive home had been converted into a makeshift hospital and rest stop during the last few days. Tanner’s old bedroom is bare and empty. Fir and Tanner are cramped together on his old twin-sized bed. Neither seems to mind the lack of space. 

“I’m sorry I left you. I didn’t want to, I wanted you to come with me,” Fir whispers, certain Tanner’s awake, despite the hour.

“It was my choice, Fir. No more apologizing. For either of us,” Tanner mumbles, running his fingers down Fir’s back. The nightshirt he’s wearing is definitely one of Tanner’s. Fir likes the smell. 

He likes the feeling.

“Can’t sleep either?” Fir asks, tracing patterns in Tanner’s arms over the bandages.  He’s writing “I love you,” over and over again. He wonders if Tanner can tell. 

“Nightmares, you know how it is,” Tanner attempts to joke. It falls flat. “I know I’m not there anymore, it’s just sometimes…” 

“It feels like you still are.” Fir understands, almost too well. When he lived in the orphanage, he thought of his parents. When he worked at the hotel, he was scared of waking up in that bunk bed again. At the Academy, he prayed for the greasy bar. 

And then he found Tanner and dreamed of never needing to leave. To live in that false sense of security on the threshold of Tanner’s bedroom door and the fiery bond of their dragons. 

Now, Fir’s not sure where his head is all day, but each night, it’s rested against Tanner’s heartbeat. He doesn’t want it anywhere else. When they “wake up” in the morning, they’ll be forced to attend another series of meetings, testifying against Minecraft Senior, detailing his crimes, and advocating for Mary.

It’s about as fun as it sounds. 

The discussion and dissection of your trauma on a public stage, the masses of the Kingdom calling for the arrests and investigations of every government official, sometimes, it’s all too much. Staying awake at night is the only moment of quiet the two of them can share. 

Tanner shifted slightly but continued to speak, “Maybe it’s just a side effect of restructuring the entire governing system of a country in a few days.” Fir laughs dryly. 

“Have you talked to your Mom since…” he trails off, not sure how to describe his Father’s public arrest and declaration of insanity. 

“No. If I had any more questions, I’d just ask you.” 

Fir had filled Tanner in on everything he had learned while he was away. Tanner told him he’d only trust it from him because he wouldn’t pull his punches like Mary would. 

So Fir didn’t. He told Tanner every single word he could recall, knowing that lying would hurt more than unspared feelings.

Fir can’t imagine what Tanner might think about his Mother now, but that’s not his responsibility. He refuses to command Tanner to feel a certain way. He’s had too much of that in his life. Fir will be by his side no matter what. 

“She did send me a letter today, asking when we could meet,” Tanner continued, sounding robotically neutral on the matter. 

“What’d you say back?”

“I told her not to bother me on my honeymoon.” 

That got Fir to laugh, genuinely laugh, and snort like an idiot. Tanner was practically beaming at the reaction. Between giggles, Fir said, “I think you’re doing this in the wrong order! You haven’t even proposed.”

“Well, to be fair, we did a lot of things in the wrong order.” 

That earned Tanner a smack on the shoulder and a slam of Fir’s body weight back onto his chest. Tanner grunted, but was laughing as well, quickly taking the opportunity to wrap his arms around Fir’s waist again. 

“If I did… get around to it…” Tanner said after a pause, “What would you say?”

Fir froze for a second, only for a second. 

He tried to memorize everything about this moment. Tanner’s scratchy shirt, his stubbled chin resting on Fir’s head, the arms entangling his body, Fir’s fingers dancing across Tanner’s bandaged shoulders, gliding to his neck, their breaths, their heart beats, their eyes . 

“Tanner. You know that no force could tear me away from you.”

He drifted one arm down, slotting their fingers together, and bringing the other man’s hands to his lips, kissing them softly.

“What if we just left?” Tanner whispered, like it was a confession he didn’t want Fir to hear. “Took Flare and Oasis, and just…” 

Fir let his lips wander, slowly rising up Tanner’s arm to his neck, to his face, and finally to his lips. 

“I’d love that.”

Chapter Text

Some time later…

Fir did his best to stay silent as he sketched the mysterious dragon into his field notes. It was a bright shade of orange and teal, a combination of colors he’d never seen on a dragon's scales. It drinks from the pond, periodically glancing around. 

The only other thing present was Fir lying in the bushes several yards away. 

All it takes is one branch snapping for the creature to take off faster than anything Fir had seen before. He sighed, disappointed, dropping his pencil and slamming his book closed. 

“Whoops,” a voice says behind him. A voice Fir would normally be grateful to hear. Still, he can’t bring himself to be too mad at them. 

“Please tell me you at least finished packing up camp,” Fir sighed, glancing back at Tanner, careful to let him know he’s not that upset. 

“Yes! I did do that, just uh, didn’t know you were so busy. I’m so-” Fir kisses him before he can finish the word they’d banned. He can feel Tanner smile against him, leaning down and accepting the “punishment” happily. 

“Everything’s ready to go,” Tanner says, looking down at him shyly, “I’m more excited than I thought I’d be.” 

Fir smiles.“I’m excited too! I really didn’t think CJ could pull it off.”

“And before us no less…” Tanner says under his breath, causing Fir to elbow him. They begin to make their way back to the campgrounds, navigating the brush.

“Well, whose fault is that?” 

Tanner rolled his eyes. They’d had this conversation before. Hundreds of times, it feels. Tanner was simultaneously impatient and the cause of their waiting. If it were anyone else, they would drive Fir mad. 

But something about how Tanner drives him mad makes it bearable. 

Rounding the corner, they come across Flare and Oasis cuddling lazily in the shade. The sight makes Fir chuckle, glancing back to see Tanner’s reaction. 

He looks lost in thought, eyes forward, and face unresponsive. “Hey,” Fir grabbed his hand softly, and the man’s dark eyes were on him once again. “Don’t worry. Take as long as you need. You always know exactly where I’ll be and what I’ll say.” 

Tanner squeezes his hand back and tugs Fir in for a hug. He senses the other man kissing his head, mumbling some variation of “I love you” into his hair.

They might be a little late, but they do eventually make their return to the Kingdom of Prime. 

These days, the Kingdom of Prime is a far more vibrant place. Banners of all colors decorate the streets, streets that are loud with bustling conversation and haggling in open markets. People are outside, laughing and arguing. The sound of a raucous community is a new and welcome one. 

Flare and Oasis join the fray of flying traffic. Dragons are abundant, nesting on rooftops, lighting street lamps, and being present in daily life once again. Some dragon riders wave at them as they soar past. Some dragons roar a greeting as they fly solo. It all feels like a good kind of strange.

The Academy removed its walls, opening itself up for public housing and shelter. Humans enter to seek a free education, learning about dragons, and being paid to do so. Wild dragons swarm the location, knowing they’ll find medical assistance and a hot meal if they’re polite. 

Tanner was gifted his Father’s office in the castle to use as he saw fit. They tore it apart, handing over anything that could be used as evidence against the man, and having Flare torch the rest. 

The space had been converted into a mini-home. Tanner didn’t bring Fir here all that often, but it was a nice space to have in their back pocket when necessary. 

Oasis and Flare lounge in the nearby balcony as the couple unpack their few belongings in the old space.

Tanner opens the small wardrobe and is momentarily caught off guard by the two fancy bags hanging inside. 

“Oh,” he calls for Fir’s attention, “My Mother’s gifts arrived.”

Tanner’s relationship with his Mother was strained at best. He did his best to understand, to sympathize, and to show grace. On one hand, Tanner understood that his Father wasn’t just horrible to their son. 

On the other hand, Tanner is the one cradling Fir’s shaking body, needing to remind their own partner that he isn’t dead, and silencing their repetitive cries of, “Why?” 

Mary didn’t ask for forgiveness. She stayed away when she was asked to, busying herself with her campaign for the Kingdom’s new council. At the same time, she would drop everything to help Tanner and Fir. She is the lead sponsor on every one of their expeditions, covering their absences, and footing the bill whenever asked. 

One day, maybe, they can cry and hug together. 

For now, Tanner accepted her gifts from a distance. 

“Well? Let’s see what she got us,” Fir says, sidling up to Tanner’s side. “We don’t want to be late.” 

Sometimes, Tanner wonders if Fir was the beast he bonded to, as they seemed to move in sync, not even needing to speak as they handed off things, certain it would be placed where it belongs. 

For once, Tanner feels like he belongs to someone who knows him. He feels like he has a hold on himself for once in his life. He knows where he is and who he wants to be. He’d follow Fir’s command to the ends of the Earth. 

Once they tie up their last few loose ends, that might just be where they go next. 

Guests were required to adhere to the black and white dress code. Fir meets the brief, but can’t help but feel like an imposter draped in expensive jewels and fabrics. 

It’s beautiful. He has eyes; he knows it’s beautiful. It’s the frame that the masterpiece is placed in that’s throwing Fir off. His blonde hair stuck out in ways he couldn’t comb away, and light scars from flights and fights littered his skin.

There’s one last clasp Fir can’t reach to complete the look. He breathes deeply as he steps back into the shared room. 

“Tanner?” he calls out, rounding the corner, spotting the man buttoning a black cap intricately laced with dark, fiery patterns. A series of simple silver chains pins the short cape to the man’s white shirt. A silk black tie is expertly tied beneath his collar, tucking into his dark vest, matching his dark dress pants and detailed black gloves.

Tanner turns to face Fir. They’ve been looking at each other nearly every second of every day, but something about his trimmed beard and official dress makes him seem older all of a sudden. 

Fir inhales sharply. 

Tanner looks good dressed up.

For a second, he considers the optics of being a little more late. During that time, Tanner looks Fir up and down. 

He’s dressed in similar dark dress pants cinched by a black corset around his waist. It leads to a shimmering white blouse with an entirely open back. Fir has a similar set of chains looping across his chest and shoulders, though his are embedded with delicate, shiny jewels. They match the shiny earrings and necklaces that were inside a velvet box at the bottom of his bag.

The last piece is a long strand of diamonds and pearls to rest down the length of his bare back, hooking onto his corset. He holds the last strand out to Tanner, who appears to have stopped breathing. 

“Can you help me with this?” Fir asks quietly.

Pulled out of whatever trance he was stuck in, Tanner steps forward, nodding and gently taking the clasps from Fir’s hands. 

Fir turns, facing away from the other man, who inhales sharply at the revealing back. 

“It connects the necklace down to the corset…” Fir mumbles, feeling more and more unsure of this as Tanner remains silent. 

He feels the strand click into place on his neck, and then Tanner’s gloved hands are slowly gliding down his back. 

Fir’s breath hitches, subconsciously leaning back into the feeling. Despite their tardiness, Tanner takes his time slowly exploring Fir’s body before reaching the corset. 

“…Do you like it?” Fir asks quietly, smiling and certain his face is flushed red. Tanner laughs, tucking his head into Fir’s neck, kissing there lightly. 

“I have half a mind to keep you here all night.” One of Tanner’s hands slips further across Fir’s middle, resting on his chest, tugging the other back against him.

“You know we can’t do that,” Fir says, reaching back to run his fingers through Tanner’s hair, pulling just lightly enough to encourage the other’s movements. He’s unsure if he’s encouraging their ministrations or pulling them away. 

Tanner grumbles something as he wrenches himself away from the other. “Fine,” he said, offering his arm with a smirk, “Shall we?” 

Fir took it with over exaggerated enthusiasm, turning to wave out to their dragons as they exited. 

“Bye, guys!” 

Oasis growled at the comment, rolling over, tucking themself beneath Flare’s willing wings. 

“Be good while we’re gone!”

No expense was spared in decorating the venue. Guests gathered around the entrance of the Academy and milled about the expansive courtyards, chatting idly. Tanner straightens, some training deep in his bones coming to life as they approach the crowds. He hadn’t expected this many people. 

The soft drag of fingers across Tanner’s arm reminds him to stay present. He smiles at Fir, grateful for their implicit understanding of their partner. 

He’s not alone. 

“Tanner! Fir! You made it!” Pushing through a small group of people, peaking over heads, was a familiar face they hadn’t seen in quite some time. 

Eric looks far happier now. Mary had offered him a job at the Academy, but he turned it down, preferring to return home to his family, dragon in tow. He’d made quite the name for himself, reinstating the dragon races and opening up entry to the kingdom as a whole. It was an instant hit, and Tanner would be lying if he said he wasn’t tempted to join. 

They reach out, clasping hands with Tanner, pulling him into a warm hug. 

“You guys look amazing! Did Flare and Oasis come with?” 

Fir laughed softly, accepting a far gentler hug from the man. “We invited them! But I think Oasis has gotten pretty lazy these days.” 

That’s a way to describe it. Unfortunately for Fir, Tanner knows how to read him. He’s a lot more like Oasis than he’d like to admit. Oasis was convinced their mate died, and had their grief whiplash into relief and back into pure dread in such a short time. Now, they refuse to leave their partner’s side. 

It’s very reminiscent of someone else Tanner knows. 

“Well, Fawn sends her regards,” Eric assures them. It’s strange seeing them in this context, dressed far more formally than he’d seen them before. Tanner likes the shift. 

He doesn’t have to worry about where his hands go anymore; he rests one casually on the small of Fir’s back, tucked behind the string of gems that he absentmindedly weaves through his fingers. 

While Tanner depends on Fir to keep him grounded in crowds like these, he worries their shiny outfit might be more of a distraction. He doesn’t realize his hand is moving lower on their back until Fir shoots him a warning look.

Can’t help himself.

“Is the rest of the troupe here?” Tanner asked Eric. The man nodded, pointing out Jaiden’s pair of dragons, Ari and Tofu. They sat atop one of the balconies, watching over Jaiden and Jacob chatting on the outskirts of the party. 

Tanner never quite understood what the deal was with those two. At some point, they were conspiring with Mary to break Fir out. He appreciated the help, and when the time came to reveal the inner workings of the Academy to the world, Jacob did not hold anything back. It all made Tanner question how they ended up here in the first place. 

The two waved, and Tanner shook his head, clearing his mind enough to wave back. 

That’s a mystery for another day. 

Some murmurs and shushes break out amongst the crowd as guests make their way to their seats. Nodding to Eric, Fir leads Tanner towards their assigned row, smoothing out their own blouse as they sit. 

It’s about to begin. 

Fir reintertwines their fingers together, and Tanner begins to breathe a little easier. 

Everyone falls silent when the music starts, and Fir starts to wonder how much all of this costs. The orchestra plays an arrangement Fir hadn’t ever heard before, but then again, he hasn’t ever been to one of these before. 

CJ enters first, casually walking down the clear path. Standing out from the crowd of well-dressed guests in black and white, CJ wore a light green suit, embroidered with a variety of shiny beads, creating the shape of vines and flowers across the details of the suit. It matched his bright tie and boutonnière pinned to his chest. 

Fir smiles to himself, and to the untrained eye, he appears entirely calm in their signature goofy way. Fir knew he was quite insightful, and could see CJ’s inner panic bubbling beneath the surface. In fairness to him, who wouldn’t be at least a little nervous right now? 

He stands as casually as he can underneath the flower arch at the end of the aisle. 

Dee, the Dragon of the Wilds, sat to the side of the arch, seeming to outwardly express what CJ was refusing to. Their tail twitched occasionally, as they shifted side to side, attempting to self-soothe. Across the aisle, their counterpart seemed much more content. 

The music swelled, and every head turned. 

Della steps out, and for a split second, Fir wonders if she herself is a Dragon of the Light. Her dress is a vibrant display of colors, shining and reflecting off similarly embroidered flowers, expanding from her dress to the long veil trailing behind her, and matching the large bouquet she was holding. 

She looks breathtaking, gliding down the aisle, smiling softly at everyone’s gasps and awws. Fir glances back at CJ, and his heart melted at the look of pure admiration and love on the other man’s face as he attempted to wipe tears from his eyes. 

When they got engaged, a lot of people were asking how CJ managed to pull it off. Seeing them together now, it was obvious. They loved each other. It was that simple. 

The ceremony was beautiful, and Fir did his very best to hold it together. He was so happy for his friends, forever grateful they found each other, and it was making him far more emotional than he thought it would. 

Tanner’s gaze on the back of Fir’s head is burning. There are several pairs of eyes pinned on them. It seems many strangers are interested in when the catalysts of the revolution were going to get hitched.

Fir was wondering the same thing. 

Then he imagined a wedding like this one, but replaced the friendly faces with political discussions and Fir’s estranged family, and the idea became instantly less appealing. 

Tanner squeezed his hand, and everything felt okay again. 

Beneath the arch, the couple shared their vows hand in hand. They stood out amongst the crowd of black and white, standing together in light and colors. When they seal the marriage with a kiss, the crowd rises, applauding and tossing colorful flower petals in the air. 

As the celebration begins to disperse, guests are invited to eat, talk, and party. Fir moved to see the newlyweds as soon as possible. Tanner followed his lead with a fond smile. 

“Della! You look incredible, congratulations!” Fir said, and the woman immediately opened her arms up, welcoming Fir in for a hug. 

“I’m so glad you could both make it! I know how busy you are with-“ 

“We wouldn’t miss this for the world,” Tanner cuts her off, eyes darting around the space. Satisfied with his search, he claps CJ on the back. “No one knows how you did it, but we’re all happy for you.” 

The group laughs, and Fir is struck by deja vu. He never thought he’d feel nostalgic for his time at the Academy, but these people were good to him. They were good to their dragons, and now, they’ll do good for the Kingdom of Prime. 

He smiles and laughs along, knowing that the best thing Fir is ever going to do for this place is get the fuck away from it. 

He can hardly wait. 

It’s tradition for the wedded couple to have the first dance.

Guests stand around the edges of the courtyard, watching the pair waltz across the tiled floors. Tanner had never seen either Della or CJ so happy, and he let out a sigh of relief he didn’t know he was holding in. 

He wanted this day to be perfect. A final goodbye, accented with love. 

At Tanner’s side, where they always seem to be, Fir sways slightly to the music. It crosses Tanner’s mind that this may be the first wedding Fir’s ever attended. Looking at the event through his partner's wide, amazed eyes… it all seemed more magical than Tanner initially thought. 

It also meant when they cued for the guests to join, Fir didn’t pick up on it until Tanner was taking his arm and stepping forward. There is a second of panic when they step out with him, not wanting to seem out of sorts as they copy the position of the couples around them. 

“Tanner, I don’t know how to-” 

“I know, hand on my shoulder, follow my lead,” Tanner said, arms moving to support Fir’s waist, the other holding tightly onto their hand. Fir’s free hand scrambles to Tanner’s shoulder, gripping it for dear life. The music begins softly, and Fir is frantically glancing around at everyone else’s movements.

“Hey,” Tanner says softly, “Eyes up here. You’ve flown in battles more dangerous than this.” 

“This many people weren’t looking at me during those,” Fir snarks back, though keeps his focus on Tanner’s dark eyes. 

“It’s a shame you had to look so ravishing,” Tanner says, pulling Fir against his chest to whisper in his ear, “Let them look. You’re mine.” 

He quite likes having access to Fir’s back. Even through his gloves, Tanner can feel Fir shiver. They push their head further into Tanner’s neck, nearly tripping over their own feet. 

“You really have changed,” Fir says. They’re spinning now, and what Fir lacks in knowledge, they make up for in deceptiveness, following along like a natural. “You used to be so proper and respectful. Some horrible influence must’ve gotten to you.” 

For a second, the hand on Tanner’s shoulder slides to thread itself in his hair on the nape of his neck. Fir tugs lightly and returns the grip to their shoulder. 

“I wouldn’t have it any other way,” Tanner confesses, continuing to lead the dance. The world around them fades away, as if they’re the only ones dancing. 

When the music begins to swell again, Tanner realizes the dance is nearly over. Just before it ends, Tanner grips Fir’s waist tighter, stepping forward and pulling him into a dip. 

Fir squeaks for a moment, holding on to Tanner as they fall; their eyes never leaving their partner’s.

Never doubting for a second that they will be caught. 

They’re still for a moment, applause for the dance barely even registers to Tanner as he’s too caught up in Fir’s smile. 

A wave rushes down Tanner’s body, awakening every nerve in his system. 

Suddenly, he begins to feel very warm. 

Fir’s face is suddenly flushing red, and Tanner’s arms begin to shake as he lifts them both out of the dip. 

They know this feeling. Though it hasn’t been this intense in weeks, and normally isn’t such a surprise. Flare and Oasis would generally make their intentions clear, and the couple could plan accordingly. 

Now, they stand in a very public space, heat rising through their body at a rapid rate, frantically glancing around for an escape route.

“I told them to be good,” Fir whispered through gritted teeth, leaning their weight against Tanner. “We need to move. Now.” 

Tanner wishes it were that simple. 

“I need to call for a carriage first, dearest. Let’s not make a scene.”

“Oh, now, you don’t want to make a scene-”

Tanner waves at one of the horse-drawn drivers as they make their way over. Nodding, they set out to prepare transportation. In the meantime, Tanner pulls Fir closer, his body heat soothing their desires for a moment. 

“They’re still scared of me. Of my last name.” Tanner comments aimlessly at the employees dashing around them. 

“To be fair,” Fir whispers, “Your face is quite red.” 

The moment the carriage door is closed behind them, Fir is on him.

Fingers are scratching his biceps as they scramble to press kisses across Tanner’s neck. Fir is practically falling into his lap as they collapse onto the bench together. The gems in their ears clatter at their quick movements, desperate to mark any visible part of Tanner’s neck. 

“And you call me possessive,” Tanner mumbles, hands scraping Fir’s bare back, pulling them impossibly closer. He can feel Fir smile against his skin. 

“Oh shut up,” Fir says before nipping at a particularly sensitive area. Tanner gasps, and Fir tightens his grip in their dark hair, tugging him to the side to get more space. “Can’t I appreciate the man who saved my life?” 

Tanner prays he’s able to recall this moment through the haze of the warmth steadily overwhelming his system. 

When the carriage starts to slow to a stop, Tanner’s eyes shoot back open, and as quickly as they fell together, Fir pulls apart, straightening his clothes. 

Tanner’s certain there’s no covering anything about his situation, so he elects to rely on speed. The couple practically sprints out the door the second it opens, thanking the driver as they speedwalk towards their home away from home. 

Rushing up the stairs, the pair can’t help but laugh at their own situation. Fir reminisces about the nights they sneak down the spiral staircase back to Tanner’s room, running to get there before the supernatural heat becomes too much. 

Swinging the office door open, Tanner unclasps his cape, already regretting the number of layers they’re dressed in. When Fir moves to remove their jewelry, Tanner snatches his wrist. 

“Don’t. Keep it on, it looks-” 

Bright green eyes look up into Tanner’s dark brown ones, and Fir knows they could never find the words to describe the emotions Tanner makes him feel. 

Instead, Fir kisses him. Hard. Pulling Tanner down to his level, untying their tie, taking off their vest, and beginning to unbutton their shirt. Tanner practically rips his gloves off. He needs to feel Fir, every inch he can. If their hands aren’t touching Fir, Tanner might die. 

When Fir finally manages to unbutton his own pants, Tanner tugs them off, pushing them down to the bed by their thighs. They place themself between Fir’s legs before they can even respond. 

Tanner’s a vision like this. Kneeling, looking up at Fir, eyes shining as they trace his necklaces, chains, rings, and earrings shimmering in the dim light from the setting sun, hands delicately wandering over every inch of bare skin like they’re a sacred altar.

“You should always be covered in shiny things,” Tanner says mindlessly, grip on Fir increasing to nearly bruise, moving their lips to attack the pale skin of their inner thighs, marking up what only he’ll ever be able to see.

“I think you’ve been spending too much time with Flare,” Fir says breathlessly, hands reaching for Tanner’s hair once again. “Do you want me in your horde?” He asked it teasingly, but something deep and feral inside Fir loved the idea of keeping Tanner safe and away from prying eyes. Closing him off from the world that was so cruel to him for too long, and showering him in wealth and love.

Rather than respond, Tanner channeled their enthusiasm into swallowing Fir’s dick whole. 

When their dragon’s bond wasn’t affecting their drive, Tanner seemed to prefer to take his time with Fir. Though he liked the slow, intimate moments they shared, Fir’d be lying if he hadn’t started yearning for the intensity. 

Gasping, Fir drops their head back as Tanner groans around them. He’s getting whiplash from how quickly Tanner is moving right off the bat, forcing embarrassing gasps and “ah”s out of his throat before he can stop them. He shoves his wrist in his throat, biting around one of his shiny bracelets to muffle himself, for his dignity’s sake.

Fir knows he won’t be able to last as long as he normally would, considering the overbearing heat gripping his body. It makes each suck, each stroke of Tanner’s hand where his mouth can’t reach, feel all the more intense. It’s as if every cell in his body is reacting individually to the ministrations. Tanner seems to know this and speeds up, making direct eye contact with Fir despite his obscene position. 

“Tanner,” he says in a strangled voice, “Tanner, fuck, I’m not going to last long if you don’t-”

The hands on his thighs slide, pressing against his side, and gripping his ass harshly, hollowing his cheeks to take all of Fir again. “Tanner,” Fir said with his last breath, repeating the name louder and louder until he’s practically screaming it. 

Tanner doesn’t pull off, not when Fir’s vision is whiting out and the tension in their body is finally releasing. 

Fir reconnects with reality, watching Tanner swallow down what he could, and wipe away what he couldn’t. There’s a look in their eyes as they look up at Fir, waiting for him to say something. Is he seeking some kind of approval, demand, or critique? Fir tugs his dark hair lightly, pulling him up to Fir. 

“You’re unbelievable,” he kisses their cheek lightly, “you did so good.” They lean back, pulling Tanner up from their position, palming their dick as they guide their partner on top of them.

“I love you,” they whisper into Tanner’s mouth, finally kissing them and tasting themself on his lips. Tanner whines into the kiss, humping subtly against Fir’s hand. Shoving his overpriced slacks out of the way, Fir finally wraps his hand around Tanner’s painfully hard cock. Tanner gasps, tucking their head into Fir’s shoulder, biting their skin lightly. 

“It’s hot, it’s too hot, Fir, please,” Tanner begs quietly, rutting against Fir, willing them to move faster. “Please, please let me-” 

Fir shushed him quietly, doubling his pace. Tanner is taking a great amount of effort to hold himself up over Fir with shaky arms. 

Tears prick the corner of his eyes, and his cheeks are flushed nearly as red as their dragon. Their dress shirt is entirely unbuttoned, hanging off their shoulders as they strain. Tanner moved so quickly to relieve Fir, he didn’t spare a single second for himself. 

Until now. 

Fir wishes the man would fall apart more often.

When Tanner comes, he gasps Fir’s name into their pale neck now thoroughly marked, and all but collapses onto their partner. 

The heat is slowly decreasing as they breathe in rhythm with each other. 

“God, I love you,” Tanner mumbles. “I can’t wait to get out of here with you.”

Oasis looks awfully smug when Tanner finds them in the morning. 

Flare is still asleep, snoring and blowing gusts of smoke from their nose as they do. Oasis sits atop a nearby roof, flicking their tail in amusement as Tanner prepares the gear around them. 

“Yeah, yeah, you’re very funny,” Tanner says to the dragon. “Now would you wake up your lazy mate so we can get going?” 

The Dragon of the Waters practically prances over to their mate, roaring to wake them. Today’s the day they’ve been waiting for, after all. They were finally leaving the Kingdom.

For good. 

They equip saddles to each dragon, along with some equipment and storage. Flare finally wakes up, flapping their wings at Tanner in greeting. “Here,” Tanner tosses him a chunk of meat and calls him what he is, “you horny bastard.”  

The sun is about to rise, which means Fir is about to wake up. Tanner makes a quick stop at the communal cafeteria, grabbing some breakfast to go, and nodding at some familiar staff members. 

Tanner opens the door quietly when he returns to their room. They’d packed up everything they planned on bringing, storing anything else in boxes to be given away. 

During the series of trials against Gordon Minecraft, Tanner was granted his inheritance. It was truly a disgusting amount of money, all saved for the heir to the Minecraft fortune, with the caveat that it would be used to rule the Kingdom from the shadows. 

Tanner invested every cent into funding public establishments and community benefits. Any cash to burn was handed out wildly to whoever requested it. That made him simultaneously very popular and very suspicious. 

A part of Tanner wondered what they’d say about him when he left. 

A larger part of Tanner stopped caring a while ago. 

He sets the tray of food down on the side table beside Fir’s sleeping form. His jewelry is laid out on the table as well, far too uncomfortable to sleep in. Tanner mourns the loss of the precious stones as he brushes the Fir’s blonde hair out of their face. The golden light of the rising sun frames them in an ethereal glow, and Tanner almost doesn’t want to wake them. 

But he also can’t resist kissing their forehead. Fir hums, shifting slightly, tucking their face back in the pillows. 

“Good morning to you, too,” Tanner says, rubbing their back. “I brought you breakfast, and then we’re good to go.” That got Fir to perk up, not grabbing the food, but Tanner. He tugs him into a kiss and pulls him back into bed. 

“Here I thought you were excited to leave,” Tanner said against Fir’s lips, falling into his trap willingly. 

“Yeah. I’m just less excited to see my parents.” 

Tanner freezes for a second before they nod. He understands the dread all too well, holding your family at arm's length at all times. 

“Do they know we’re leaving?” Tanner asked, kissing Fir’s shoulder, hoping the action would be soothing. 

“I didn’t tell them myself, but I’m sure your mom did,” Fir said, staring up at the ceiling. 

“You don’t have to do anything you don’t want to, y’know?”

Fir shifting, smiling, and holding Tanner’s head in his hands. 

“I know.”

Fir’s parents have a home that operates as a “pit stop” for dragons in need, healing and feeding them, and getting them back on their wings. Fir had stopped by once with Tanner, who did his best to charm them, but the tension was palpable. 

Still, they deserved to know Fir was leaving. Especially when he doesn’t know when or if they’ll be back. 

It’s still early enough that Fir can walk to the sanctuary. It’s a large wooden tower where the Kingdom’s walls used to be. Fir preferred the quiet mornings, always feeling overwhelmed and awkward when the crowds are about. 

As he stands in front of the locked door, he’d easily choose the commotion of the public over knocking any day. 

Fir won’t admit how long it took, but he did eventually find the strength to raise his hand and pound on the door three times. 

There’s no response for several seconds, and Fir considers his job done and turns to leave. 

“Fir?”

He’s turning around before he can stop himself.

His dad is standing in the doorway, long blonde hair a visible mess. He’s dressed in pajamas, with an apron holding a dragon egg in its front pocket, thrown on top. 

“Hi, da- Daniel,” Fir says. He’s never quite certain what to call them. They are his parents; he can’t deny that, but they made their choice to leave him in the lion’s den. “Is, um, mom up too?” 

“Yes! I’ll go grab her, come on in,” Daniel turned back inside, leading Fir into the soft glow. 

Daniel climbs the ladder to the second floor as Fir looks around the messy home. The space is familiar, every surface carrying a clutter of books, food, and equipment. Fir does the same in his own space, a habit Tanner is beginning to pick up on. It’s nice to know it runs in the family. 

Fir hears two people climbing down the ladder, but his back is turned as he analyzes a tray of different colored dragon scales. 

“We think some dragons have begun breeding outside their species due to necessity,” Holly explains, suddenly standing directly behind Fir. “We’ve only been able to collect scales, but they could be resulting in abilities we’ve never seen before.” 

Fir nods, “I’ve noticed that. I’ll look into it while I’m gone.”

The air is practically sucked out of the room when he says it, but Fir doesn’t see why he shouldn’t just rip the band-aid off. 

“So, you’re really leaving,” Holly says, not bothering to hide her sadness. “How much time do you have?”

“However long this conversation takes,” Fir finally faces them. He feels that he owes them that much. 

They both stand, hesitating to reach out while both being desperate to. A part of Fir, a part he doesn’t want to admit exists, wants nothing more than to let them in. 

Daniel takes the first step forward. “Fir, we love you so much. We’re so proud of you, and-” he chokes up for a second, but continues, “And we’re so sorry we weren’t in your life sooner.”

Fir nods, all too aware of the tears forming in his own eyes, and his mom steps forward, too. 

“Keep that Minecraft boy safe. A partner like that is one in a million.” 

That’s what does it, apparently. Fir pulls them both in a tearful hug, entirely in control this time.

He wanted this more than anything; it’s a shame that they had such terrible timing. Maybe, he’ll forgive them one day. Maybe he’ll understand why they did what they did. But for now, he’s content to cry together. 

As a family. 

Motivated by Fir’s courage, Tanner approaches the functioning Minecraft office in the revamped Academy. The sign on the door informs him that his Mother is on the other side and willing to talk. 

Tanner stares at it for a few seconds longer. 

“Mom?” Taner opens the door quietly. His Father would have been appalled that he referred to Mary Minecraft as anything other than “Mother.” Maybe this is a sign of growth. 

Or maybe he’s still checking behind his back for a one-eyed man’s disapproving glare. 

“Hello Tanner.” Mary is sitting behind her organized desk, setting down the book she was reading, and providing her son with her full attention. “Is today the day?” 

“Yup. Everything's ready to go. Fir’s just telling his parents goodbye.” 

“So you came to see me,” she finishes for him. She’s smiling, but it’s not the kind of smile that reaches her eyes. “But not for very long.” 

“No,” Tanner confirms. The silence that washes over them isn’t as charged as he’d feared it would be. Mary walks around the desk, placing herself in front of the son who looks far too much like his Father, and gently cradles one side of his face. 

“While you’re gone seeing the world, I’ll be here improving this place as much as I can,” she wipes the single tear that falls from his eye. “You have no reason to look back. Everything great is waiting for you.” 

He nods, understanding exactly what’s remaining unsaid.

“Goodbye, mom.”

Fir sits astride Oasis on the balcony. 

On the balcony that they’d claimed for their dragons. On the balcony where they hid from Tanner’s Father. On the balcony where Fir fell in love with Tanner. On the balcony where he watched him almost died. 

Now it will be their exit. A silent farewell as the sun continues to rise. 

“You ready?” Tanner asks him a final time as Flare nuzzles their mate. 

Looking at the man who saw through his stubbornness, who tore apart everything they were made to be just to give Fir a chance at a better life, a part of Fir feels unworthy to be with him. 

But Tanner looks at him like he’s a beautiful constellation, desperate to learn more and bask in its light. Fir swore he would never leave his side, because nowhere else would make him feel as complete as he does holding their hand. 

“Never better.” 

Tanner gets it.