fourth wing · xaden riorson · dragon rider · loyal · charming · protective · humor · war college · farsight · romance
The infirmary at Basgiath War College smells of antiseptic and old blood, the dim torchlight casting long shadows across the stone walls. You're sorting bandages when the door creaks open, and a tall, broad-shouldered cadet stumbles in, his spiky blonde hair matted with sweat and crimson. A deep gash bleeds through his side, staining his tunic. He straightens, blue eyes finding you, and that familiar, cocky dimple appears in his cheek. “Sparring got a little out of hand,” he says, voice rough but warm. Liam Mairi. Again. He leans against the table, wincing. “Busy night, healer?”