Word count: 1.0k words

Another (slightly late) bday fic for one of my friends! This time for Larson @/larsonnoarson on tumblr! She asked for enemies to friends, while they aren't technically enemies, i thought exploring latham's thoughts about veronyka would be fun!

(Also i think i'm giving up on censoring any swearing in my writing, looks too weird)

Latham's first impression of Nyk was alright. He was nothing special. Just an ordinary stablehand. Maybe a little better than that, after he got Tristan scolded by his dad. He didn't hate Tristan, but he seemed too mighty, too isolated, too far above them and all because of nepotism. So if Nyk was gonna bring him down from that pedestal, he didn't really mind.

But then... but then so much started happening all at once. Elliot's betrayal, which nearly costed them all their lives. People actually had died. A phoenix had died. He felt the grief on his own, but it was tenfold because that phoenix was his own bondmate's mother. It happened in a flash, so when it was revealed that Nyk--Veronyka--was not who Latham thought he--she--was, didn't he have the right to be upset?

Not to mention, she was receiving so much special treatment. Veronyka became an apprentice quickly, and all of a sudden she was joining their patrol's outings, even after failing her audition to become a Master Rider. She was still a rookie who hardly knew anything, wasn't skilled enough for being a Rider yet. She wasn't useless, he wouldn't go as far as that, it wasn't like she wasn't helpful at all. The worst problem was the way her and Tristan behaved with each other. Tristan seemed less... standoffish? Which wasn't a bad thing, but he was very reckless, and she only seemed to be enabling him. No. She was making him reckless.

The two kept wandering off on their own, and one time they got involved in a fire on their own. Always making decisions on their own, rarely informing them of what they were doing. It was as if the two were harbouring some kind of secret. They'd gone out to soothe things out with the villagers, but not enough was being done. What were the rest of the patrol there for at this point?

And then Veronyka left. Tristan left with the commander to where Lord Rolan and Veronyka were, and their patrol soon followed. The action had fallen by the time they'd arrived, and Latham could see the Riders and Veronyka.

But no Tristan.

He'd been captured by Rolan.

"Are you fucking kidding me?" he demanded Veronyka, striding right up to her. "We flew all the way here for you, some deserter, and now he's in danger? We shouldn't have come here." His fists hurt with how hard he clenched, they itched to just reach for her neck so he could fucking wring it or something, but he was very aware of the fact that everyone was watching.

Instead, he turned to walk away. That was, until her hands grabbed his tunic, yanking him down so that he was no longer towering over her. He shook in her grip, then froze as he met her eyes. Dark. Her eyes were dark brown, but they were near black with fury now, her jaw clenched. He'd never seen her like this before.

"Do you think there's even the slightest chance that you're more heartbroken than me?" she asked, her voice low. He wanted to open his mouth, because obviously he was heartbroken, because for all his problems with Tristan he wanted him back, but she continued on. "Do you think I wouldn't take his place in an instant if I had a choice?"

She shoved him back, and he stumbled to regain his balance. "Commander," he called out, his voice shaking, "what happened?"

The truth about Veronyka's identity was explained. An Ashfire. Veronyka Ashfire. What was... what was he supposed to do with that? The dynamic changed once more, and he avoided her. Even he wasn't sure how he felt. It wasn't like his dislike and bitterness went away just like that. He wanted to fight her, but he knew it wasn't a good idea to that, even if she started physically asking for it.

•~•~•~•~•~•

"Look," Veronyka said, as they went through a sparring session. "if you have anything to say to me, just say it to my face. I'm not going to just lash out at you if you insult me."

Latham blocked one of her attacks with ease. "What do you want me to say?"

"I don't know," she said, her next kick containing more force. "Anything. I'm sick of all this. You glaring at me is better than... whatever this is."

"You want me to... yell at you?"

"That's not quite what I meant. But it's what you wanted to do for so long, wasn't it? Didn't you only show consideration because Tristan supported me?"

"I don't hate you," he said through a sigh, avoiding a punch.

"I know that," she said, and something about the way she was so self-assured about that pissed him off slightly.

"Then what do you want?" he asked. "I'm not going to jeapordize your role or anything--"

"I just want to be treated as more of an equal. It's annoying."

She went for another punch, but this time he was able to counter and knock her down to the ground. "because Tristan obviously cares about you."

She looked up at him. "Oh."

He stood still to catch his breath. "That being said, I still don't like you."

She got up, and she was smiling a little. His own lips twitched. "That's fine with me," she said. "You can feel free to show it more. Correct me on things, because I may be an Ashfire, but I still hardly know anything."

He nodded. "Don't complain too much, then," he said.

"Don't worry," she replied, getting into a fighting stance. 

He went back in and fought.

He was still upset at her, and that wouldn't change easily, but he knew to acknowledge that she had the same goal as him-- get Tristan back. It wasn't enough, not yet, but he wasn't stupid enough to think that he wasn't mainly affected by his emotions. Maybe she'd prove herself to be more capable.

So for now, that was enough.