All Things New Again [J'ver]

J’ver hadn’t managed to do more than shut the door behind the bringer of his demise. He knew that may have been a fatal mistake but whether the door was open or closed, he knew Tyrrisath’s tricks well enough to know the way to freedom would be barred. It wouldn’t matter anyway. He couldn’t think of anyone that he could run to for protection if S’kef tried to attack him again. Not even D’ren would care if one less troublemaker vanished. No, that wasn’t true; he was still a dragonrider and D’ren wouldn’t want to see a dragon, even a meek green, in distress or winking between one final time.  So he opted for shutting the door to at least give himself the dignity of a quieter beating. Everyone would know like they did last time but at least there wouldn’t be witnesses.

He stood motionless save for a newly developing habit of wringing his hands together as he watched S’kef glare holes into his floor. What was the brownrider thinking? When would he strike and get it over with? J’ver just wanted it done with so he could go back to his silent existence. One day he would work on a new plan and find someone else to latch onto, but for now he simply couldn’t bring himself to even consider it. Being tossed aside by S’kef had bothered him more than he thought possible. After all, wasn’t he the one that used people and discarded them when their purpose was fulfilled? He wasn’t supposed to be dumped! It didn’t matter that S’kef had lost his rank and D’ren cared nothing for him now, J’ver still should have been the one to walk away. Either way, they had parted ways and instead of latching onto his next target, J’ver drank and hid away, wondering why he wasn’t good enough for his brownrider anymore.

It was the flight, of course, that finally pushed S’kef to his limits. J’ver had willed Rilaleeyth to pick another and while Tyrrisath did lose, he wasn’t sure if his darling green actually chose for that to happen or not. He still made sure to let her know it was her flight that ruined them regardless when several days later S’kef’s anger had not let up like it normally did. They had been dismissed and that was that.

Now, J’ver waited for the final punishment. S’kef was a man that enjoyed violence, especially against greenriders. No doubt he missed his favourite victim. When the angry glare turned back to him and the confession there wasn’t anything to say came, J’ver felt shiver go down his spine as he knew the time had come. Why talk when actions worked so much better at training and getting a point across?

“I…” his compliance was cut off as S’kef continued talking after all, though it was naturally to blame the worthless greenrider. Without realising it, the nervous wringing of hands stopped so J’ver could slowly slide his arms around himself for a light hug. He was worried now, extremely so. He had disobeyed an order he promised he’d never break. How could he have forgotten? Was that why he was so upset at their parting of ways – he knew he had been bad and couldn’t tolerate it? It didn’t matter why he had been miserable only that he had been bad and on his way to a broken body because he couldn’t deny the fact he had been toying with S’kef during the flight. “I’m sorry, S’kef! It was… I didn’t… but…”

J’ver couldn’t think, losing his ability to form even a simple sentence when he saw the powerful hand curl into a fist. He winced and waited for the blow but his eyes shot open at the sound of a fist hitting something hard and S’kef’s curse. Instinct and dedication had J’ver running towards his brownrider to see the damage he had done to his hand but stopped halfway when the accusations resumed. “I did nothing, I swear it, S’kef. You’re far too clever for any games I might normally run but--”

Again, he was cut off but this time it was due to S’kef approaching him and pulling him into another tight embrace. Yet again he panicked but quickly relaxed when he noted it was a hug and not a move to toss him around. As J’ver slowly started to raise his arms in an attempt to try hugging back – it was a foreign concept to J’ver since it was rather intimate a gesture – when a breath whispered words over his ear.

J’ver, I love you.

Love?

He was loved?

By S’kef?

J’ver wasn’t sure he had heard correctly but Rilaleeyth was right there, as always, her gentle presence calming his mind that wanted to return to the theory he was going to be beat but not loved. He loves you, J’ver. I believe it’s always been so and even you can claim to have real feelings for him. But you should say something in return before your silence angers him. Do not lose our beautiful brown pair again, darling.

Rilaleeyth was timid and often doubted herself but she did try and often she had good ideas, like now. J’ver couldn’t deny there was logic in what she said; at least about his silence. But how much of his feelings were real and what exactly were they?

Instead, all he did was return the embrace as eyes finally took in the colourful material his head rested against. “You’re wearing a shirt I made you,” he was embarrassingly more surprised by that fact than the love confession. S’kef had never worn anything he had spent time on making, but he did so now. J’ver snuggled in a little closer to the man he clung to, silently blaming Rilaleeyth for his tender moment, like he always did, and not because he actually felt the urge himself.