Dain wasn't entirely sure how it started, but even if he knew, it wouldn't change where he was now:
Tied up and stashed in Amber Mavis's armoire, missing his afternoon classes. He had to be impressed by the obvious attention Amber had paid in her classes as well. The ropes were snug around his wrists and ankles, ensuring he couldn't even wriggle, let alone get free. At the same time, he wasn't particularly uncomfortable aside from the rather awkward boner that was pressing against the floorboard of the armoire. He wasn't losing feeling in his fingers or toes, and the rope she'd chosen was soft against his skin but didn't have any slack.
She really was perfect, wasn't she? He sighed to himself. She'd be a Wingleader next year for sure. He thanked Zihnal that he wasn't in her chain of command.
Oh, that was how he'd ended up here, in a roundabout way. He'd gone to her because he wanted an outside opinion on what seemed like his section leader not following the Codex strictly, and it had felt like she was the first person who understood it was there for a reason and not just something to find loopholes in.
She was happy to call out his section leader for him, which was good, because he was tired of getting those looks from his squadmates when he quoted the Codex. He was afraid that would be the end of it, but she didn't seem to mind him hanging around. He looked for excuses to talk to her.
"I assumed you couldn't stand Riorson for the same reasons I can't," Dain said to her once as they studied together for history. It was a subject Dain felt entirely confident in, while Amber seemed to have odd holes in her education that he couldn't quite figure out. Still, he liked spending time with her. "But it's personal, isn't it? You're both from Tyrrendor, but you don't have…" He gestured vaguely at her side.
"No, I don't. You'd have seen it by now if I did."
"Your family was loyal."
Amber nodded. "Following the rules saved my parents' lives."
"It's no wonder you appreciate them." Dain couldn't help admiring that, even knowing she would have been too young to make her own decision about it at the time. It still felt important. "You don't talk about it very much."
"Some cadets don't know what to think about anyone from Tyrrendor, and I'm not entirely sure I blame them."
"But we're all supposed to be one united Navarre, that was the entire point."
"You're cute," she said. "A little naive, but the quadrant will root that out of you."
Not long after that, one thing had led to another when she'd caught him out past curfew and called him a "naughty boy," and it turned out they both really needed an outlet for the stress and adrenaline that came with being a cadet, and…
Well, yeah, that was how he ended up in her armoire, waiting for her to return so she could chastise him for missing his afternoon classes.
"You are also missing flight practice," Cath reminded him.
"I'm sorry, I'll make it up tomorrow," Dain thought back. "I'm just a little tied up right now."
"I do not understand humans."
"I'm not sure I understand humans either." Dain would have shrugged if he could move his arms that much. "Rules help, though."
Rules had always helped. Rules were what made the world make sense after his mother died.
Listen to your father, his mother told him. Be good.
Those were the two rules that all of the other rules were built on. Listen to your father. Be good. He'd taken care of Violet because that was good. Because she was smaller and fragile and she was going to be a Scribe. As he got older, it felt like he was watching Violet get smaller and more fragile. Not just because he was getting taller, but because there were fewer people around them. They left Calldyr, losing Halden and Alic and Cam, even if all three of them could be arrogant pricks sometimes. Brennan became a cadet and then Mira followed him, and even if they were still there sometimes it wasn't the same at all. Then Brennan died, and her father, who had been at least as much a dad to him as his own father was, and suddenly it seemed like he was all Violet had in the whole world, and she was everything he needed to protect as a rider.
That last year they had before he entered the Quadrant was pretty much perfect. They spent so much time together, making puns in Krovlish and sneaking out to climb trees and talk about the future. He took care of her because nobody else would and thought about what it would be like to do that for her for the rest of their lives.
Leaving her was hard, but during the year when they couldn't communicate, he told himself that he was doing this to protect her. Navarre was just an extension of Violet. He would be good, and he would listen to his father, and he would protect Violet.
He did everything he had to do, and he did it well. He followed the Codex, he listened to his professors and his section leader and his wingleader.
And then Violet was there.
That was against the rules. Violet was supposed to be in the Scribe Quadrant. He was going to write her letters. They might see each other on the weekends.
He could only think of one person who knew how to fix any rule that was broken.
"Mavis, I need your help."
"I'm really busy with wingleader business, Aetos, I don't think I can get the ropes out until I've at least gotten my sections through…" She seemed to be really looking at him. "No, wait, something is wrong."
He nodded.
"Something you can't go to your new wingleader about. Is Riorson giving you shit?"
"Do you remember I told you about Violet? My best friend?"
"She's a scribe this year, right? Wait, Violet Sorrengail? But she--"
"She's here. She crossed the parapet. She shouldn't be here. She's in my section. She can't be here." His voice got a little more hysterical with each sentence and he fought to get himself back under control.
Amber scoffed. "I'm surprised Riorson hasn't killed her yet."
Dain wasn't paying attention to what his face was doing, but it must have been dramatic because Amber immediately stopped.
"Sorry. But what do you think I can do to help, Aetos?"
"She said her mom-- sorry, General Sorrengail ordered her to cross. There's got to be some rule that we can use to get her out."
"And then what happens after she goes AWOL?"
"Markham practically trained her, I'm sure he'd be willing to keep her with the other scribes."
Amber held a hand up, gesturing like she was flicking through her mental Codex. "The problem is, Aetos, any attempt to cite the Codex would go to her wingleader, and I don't think Riorson will let her go. And over his head would be Panchek, and he answers to…"
"General Sorrengail," Dain sighed.
"I really am sorry, I know you care about her, but I've seen her. She's never going to make it to Threshing. You should probably make your peace with that."
He'd always appreciated the way Amber spoke plainly, no metaphors and no softening, but right now it felt like the nightmares where Cath was dropping straight down and he was going to fall forever. Yes, the rule was that the weakest cadets get weeded out, but Violet wasn't a cadet, or at least she wasn't supposed to be a cadet. She wasn't a real cadet.
Amber ran her fingers through his hair, grabbing tightly to get his attention.
"I know you don't want to look like you need your father, but your best bet for someone to convince the general to get her out of here is him. She's a weak link and she'll be gone by October one way or the other."
Dain didn't have the heart to explain that he'd already spoken to his father, and it had done no good at all.
"Just promise me one thing, Aetos. Don't get yourself in trouble for her sake, okay? You're going to be a wingleader next year, I'm sure of it. Somebody needs to keep these rulebreakers in line when I'm gone." Amber shook her head. "Don't risk your future for someone who doesn't have one."
Somehow it got worse and it kept getting worse. Dain had an unfortunate tendency to think about Amber any time he was tied up, which had made his first RSC exercise extremely confusing. He didn't think it could get more awkward than that.
Even when he told Violet he was going to get her out, she wanted to stay. She argued with him. He watched her fail on the Gauntlet over and over and she still wouldn’t go. She was going to die there. He was sure of it.
"I cannot believe her," Amber said to him after Presentation. "She cheated and Riorson just laughed it off. Why did they even make him a wingleader? Everyone knows he doesn't have any more respect for the rules than his father did."
The knots were tighter than usual, but Dain didn’t complain. Clearly she needed it.
He'd already heard how Violet made it through the Gauntlet. The story had made him feel a little sick, both with relief and with disappointment. Violet was alive but she'd sounded just like Riorson in Amber's recounting. Finding loopholes as surely as a Scribe in the bindery threads a needle between signatures.
"Why don't the rules apply to her?" Amber hissed as she pushed Dain to the floor, her knots expert as always.
Amber let him be her chair for an hour while she wrote up a formal complaint, then fucked him into the mattress until she had run out of anger.
She lay next to him afterwards, her head on his shoulder. He would have stroked her hair if her hands were free.
It was the first time she didn't send him packing as soon as she was done, and he had to admit he appreciated the contact. He'd been so uncertain about touching people since his signet manifested, but with his hands bound, he didn't have to worry about it.
Threshing came and the sheer speed with which everything he was holding onto fell through his fingers was astonishing. Violet had bonded. Riorson made him admit in front of her that the rules mattered, which shouldn't have hurt because Violet knew him, she'd seen him trying to protect her for weeks and shoved it in his face, but now he was supposed to know this was the time she wanted the rules broken for her.
Violet accused- no, Riorson accused Amber of breaking the Codex. As if he had any moral high ground. But Violet hadn't trusted him and Amber had died and he wasn't sure which hurt more.
At least he'd still had rules- for a while, anyway. Until the night of Reunification, until he saw something that Violet hadn't meant to show him. Until Riorson and his unit disappeared during War Games. Until he heard Violet's name on the death roll the morning of graduation.
Until he'd almost literally lost Violet and had lost her in every other possible way. His father had been… as close as he ever got to proud, but Dain had no idea what was going on with him and General Sorrengail. It was so rare to see them not in agreement.
Or had he just not noticed before?
He was starting to think there were a lot of things he hadn't noticed before.
Including how much work it was to be a wingleader, when Riorson always made it seem like he had enough time to hang around and mess with everyone. On top of his third year classes, he had to make sure his section and squad leaders were getting the best out of his cadets, and then there were the special lessons.
Varrish was mentoring him in the use of his signet, which was supposed to be some kind of honor, but watching Varrish use the Codex to set traps for Violet had made him feel sick.
That wasn't what the rules were for.
When he looked at Violet's memories and saw what had happened at Resson- what he'd helped send her into, what his father had done because Dain had made it possible-
Gods, why hadn't she told him? He asked himself the question, but he knew the answer. Because he would follow the rules. He would believe the maps in Battle Brief. Because he would follow the most important rules, the first ones he'd ever learned, back when his mother was dying.
But what happened when listen to your father and be good were no longer compatible?
He'd been wrong about Violet. She wasn't letting Riorson drag her down. Violet was trying to be good, not just regular good but princess in a fairytale good, slaying wyvern and protecting innocent people.
Dain looked at Varrish and wasn't sure how the fuck he'd gotten here, in this role, and he only had a second to react. He needed to think.
He couldn't follow both rules, and so he would help Violet. He would be good even if he couldn't trust his father to understand that.
After that decision was made, stabbing Varrish and everything that came after was surprisingly easy.
He still had his wing to look after, and Violet needed him to help translate, and the fliers needed help integrating with the riders. Everything had changed so fast, and then it was hurry up and wait, just like he'd been taught that war always was. There were classes, there was figuring out with the fliers how to teach the important lessons of RSC without actual torture.
It was an accident of the last that he ended up tied up. Somebody had to volunteer to be the demonstration torture victim for the squad, and since it was the first time they were doing it, it seemed only fair that Dain be the one to volunteer.
Cordella had seemed more enthusiastic about pretending to be torturing him than he expected, but at first it had been fine.
Then she'd laughed and said she'd be back for him later.
Dain had not been left alone and tied up in over a year, but by the time he realized Cordella was not coming back any time soon, he was maybe just a little bit relieved about it, since it meant Violet's squad would not be rescuing him in his… awkward condition.
If he volunteered to do this again he would have to pretend to be a scribe or something… at least a robe would give him a little more dignity than his leathers did.
He could tell Cath he was stuck here and his dragon would probably be willing to tell someone else's dragon, but he'd really rather wait until he was fit for company before he did that. And the longer he waited, the less fit for company he was turning out to be.
When the door opened again, he had no idea how long he'd been here, and while he hadn't lost feeling in his limbs, he knew tomorrow his shoulders would feel like Violet's on a good day.
"Shit, you are still here," Cordella hissed as she shut the door behind her. "Sorrengail and I got- well, it doesn't matter, but I might have forgotten you were here until she was asking after you when we finished dinner."
Dinner? That was definitely later than he'd realized. No wonder his head felt fuzzy. "Glad you remembered."
"Yes, well, I would have thought a rider would have their dragon burn this place down or something to get them out."
"I'd have been in it when Cath burned it down. I could have probably gotten help but…"
Cordella had frozen momentarily where she was bending to untie him, so she must have noticed his situation.
"Problem, Wingleader?" she asked, and now the hint of concern was replaced with a giggle. "Does your little dragon want to say hello?"
Dain snorted at that, and if he'd been any less hard, it probably would have solved the problem. "It's an old association," he managed to get out, trying to sound like he had any dignity left.
"Oh, if I'd known that I would have come back sooner," she said, and Dain had to double-check his shields were in place because he could have sworn someone had just turned his lust up from a simmer to a boil.
No, as far as he could tell this reaction was all his. He knew he should cut it off, just ask her to untie him and go solve his problem by himself in the showers. She was in his wing, for Dunne's sake.
But he'd been here for hours and his resolve was weak, and the fliers' rulebook seemed more concerned with staying alive than with the chain of command.
"Are you planning to untie me," he asked carefully, "or do you want to help?"
"What kind of help could a rider possibly need from me?" Cat asked, and if she hadn't been smirking he might have worried.
"I thought maybe it was obvious, but… would you like to use me? Please?" The please slipped in there by accident, but judging by her face she found it charming, or at least amusing.
"Use you, hm?" she purred, tipping him on his back and then tugging his legs so that he was laying on top of his bound hands and ankles, his body arching up toward her. He could feel her playing with the buttons on his pants and then pushing the leather and the linen beneath out of the way so she could free his erection.
Thankfully there wasn't much in the way of a breeze inside the little outbuilding they'd been using as a classroom, because Dain was worried that any additional stimulation would push him over the edge.
"Please, one or the other," he managed to get out, "or I might make a mess of your leathers."
"Maybe I should make sure that's not a concern, then," she unbuttoned her jacket. "Do riders not learn any laundry magics either?"
"I'd love to ask you about that but I'm not going to retain your answer right now," he rushed the words.
"So that's a no." She tossed her jacket lightly over his face and he nearly lost it again.
A bare foot pushed down on his stomach, shoving his shirt up to his chest. "You like being a coat rack too, don't you?"
"Guess I do," Dain answered. The foot disappeared, and a minute later he felt another weight on top of the jacket. Movement above him. Limbs on both sides of his torso.
"I guess I could find some use to put you to after all, rider," Cat's voice was much closer, even muffled by the layers of leather on top of him. He realized she must be straddling him.
He stayed nearly silent as she slid onto his straining cock, only letting out a tiny whimper.
"Good boy," she cooed, settling her weight onto his hips. He held absolutely still as she rocked to one side and then the other, then began to push herself up and create a rhythm.
After a few minutes, Cat paused, patting his stomach. "Up, just a bit, good boy." She moved again and then, "Now, rock your hips… oh, there we go." He froze again when she made that sound and then, hesitantly, started pushing up to meet her.
"Ah- you can move after all-" she gasped. "Good boy, right there-" Her words stopped as her muscles clenched around him and Dain held on.
When she started to relax again, Cat traced a fingertip down his stomach. "Still waiting?"
"Yes," he choked out.
"Somebody trained you very well." She pushed up again and he felt her hands on both sides of his hips. "Your turn." She slid down and rocked her hips against his as Dain's mind processed that he'd been given permission and he finally came, seeing spots along the edges of his vision as he did.
When he'd finished, Cat leaned down against his chest, pushing her leathers off his face. She paused for a few minutes, her head against his neck. When she was cutting him loose, Dain thought maybe it'd be nice to try this with his hands untied if she wanted. Her shields were probably strong enough to counter his signet, even.
"Thank you." He meant it probably three or four different ways, and didn't have the words to explain any of them, but she didn't ask and he was grateful for it.
"You're not half bad at being ridden," she told him as she pulled her jacket back on and made sure she was presentable. "Do you like to do that regularly?"
"It's been a while. And I don't think I've ever waited that long," he told her. "But I'm open to negotiations."
"Sounds great, Aetos. I need an outlet," she agreed. "You should probably get going."
Dain knew she was right- if dinner was over, Violet was waiting for him. Maybe he could rebuild that, and maybe he could build this into something, too.
Cordella had called him a good boy, after all. There was more than one way to be good.