The Rider I Was Raised to Beat

I detest what you do to me.

Can’t stand it

Not in the usual sense

In that way, I’m numb to what you do.

The way you run circles around me both in the sky

And on the ground in the village

No, what I’ve grown to detest is the sudden grip you have on my thoughts.

It’s consuming thinking of you.

A recent development thanks to your manipulation.

We’ve always understood our relationship.

Or lack thereof.

You’re a Mikalson.

I’m an Ashcroft.

Your family comes from those who sit close to the fire.

Warm blooded.

Cruel in an effortless way.

Mine comes from those who are first line in battle.

Strategic.

Always calculating our next move before we take another step.

It’s rational to hate each other.

Expected from our families.

And the one thing we have in common is to exceed expectations.

So this competition has been true to form.

You rip through the sky without concern or pause.

Other riders fall off their dragons.

Your dark laugh haunts them as they hit the ground.

But I know what your moves are before you make them.

I always have.

The way you move, it’s like a dance.

A dance only I can keep up with.

And try as you might.

You can’t shake me.

You can’t strike me.

Nothing works for you on me.

So each week

For the past nine weeks

As we both let one by one of the lesser riders fall

Crash

Wail with sorrow as they disappoint their families in the stands

We’ve reined

Your dragon spitting fire in the clouds

Mine soaring in the air

Gliding like no other of her kind.

But now, it’s between you and me.

The way it was always supposed to be.

The way I was always ready for it to be.

Or at least I was ready.

Before.

Before you grazed your fingers at the base of my spine at dinner.

Before you kept your striking eyes on me at practice.

Before I felt your hands on my shoulders when you offered to rub out my injury.

Before you made your presence known in a way I can’t forget.

What you’re doing is clear.

You can’t get me in the air.

I won’t allow it.

But on the ground?

The second our feet hit the floor…

There you can get me in every way possible.

But you wouldn’t hurt me.

Striking my body

Or cutting me with one of your silver knives you’re so fond off

That would only make you a killer

And you are more original than that

So your plan to dig your fingers deep into my brain

Where all my thoughts

The ones I use to plan my course of action

Are clouded with you

And only you

The part of me I cherish so deeply

You’ve flooded with fiery touches in secret.

And the worst part of all?

Your insinuation

It’s become constant.

Last night Lenore and I road like always

And I missed a turn by the mountains

She barely got a scrape of her skin

I merely have a bruise

But I missed it.

I don’t miss.

I know the paths in the sky like I know my own home.

Like the hall to my bedroom

Like the scruff on the dining room floor

I know it all

And I missed

You think I need you

Crave you

Can’t fight or fly or breathe without you

Without you pushing me

I’m nothing

Nothing noteworthy

Or powerful

Or forceful

Without you on my tail

An inch behind me

Your dragon so close to mine

Where I can almost feel your heated fingers reach for me

I’m nothing.

It’s a lie

A foul mouthed lie

Told by a foul mouthed girl

But even so

Here I am

Moments away from glory