Page 8 of Cosplay & Consequences

The con was winding down for the day, and the attendance began to dwindle. Most of the attendees were going to the after-hours parties and events hosted nearby. Every year the networks and the streaming services would put on a series of themed parties where all the geeks and nerds could dance or drink the night away.

However, back at the convention center, the vendors were sitting down and paying attention to their phones instead of standing and talking to attendees. There was still a long line for people who had paid to get pictures or autographs with some minor fantasy stars from the ’80s and ’90s. While there were plenty of nighttime events and nerdy parties going on in the area, my feet were killing me. Needing to recharge my social battery, I decided to forgo the nighttime events and head back to my hotel room. I didn’t have a lot of time, and I needed to study up for my interview for tomorrow morning.

Then I saw what Brayonna was so hyped about. At first, I only got a glimpse of him in the sea of cosplayers surrounding him. Curious, I walked a little further and around the turkey leg cart to try and see more of him.

He was tall and broad. From a distance his outfit was impeccable. I stopped and watched him interact with the other cosplayers who seemed to be enthralled with him. For a second, our eyes met. Despite the ample distance between us, I could see he went all out, wearing red contacts to match Tyrst’an’s appearance in the books, something Brandon Quill never bothered to do.

I realized I was staring at him when he broke into a smile. He performed a formal bow in my direction, one hand on his chest and the other held out, his palm held up high in the air. I laughed and responded with a bent knee curtsy that would have made my old ballet teacher proud. We stood there smiling at each other from across the hall. For a few seconds, I had his complete attention. An actual Tyrst’an all to myself. The moment lingered, and he took a step towards me. However, he was interrupted when a cosplayer came up to him, holding up a phone, asking for a picture. He flashed me an apologetic smile as he turned his attention to the cosplayer, posing with him.

Regretfully, I turned away to do one more circuit of the convention hall. I made a lazy circle around all the exhibits, before heading back to my room. As I approached the elevators, I heard my name called out. I turned to wave at one of my followers, when my boot snagged on a wrinkle of carpet. My boot, which had weathered several years of cons and endless costumes, finally betrayed me. The heel snapped off causing me to twist and fall backwards. Sharp pain shot up through my leg and ankle as I braced myself to hit the ground, but I stopped in mid-air.

Strong arms surrounded me, pulling me upright. As my eyes fluttered open, I found myself staring into the face of Tyrst’an, as though he had stepped straight out of my grandmother’s books to catch me. Brayonna was right. He was perfect.

His long white hair was pulled back into a loose ponytail. A dark red tunic hung open across his chest, framed by a studded leather vest that hugged his form. The one detail that caught my attention was the small silver chain which hung from his neck, a pendant of a bird in flight glinting at its end. A charm given to Tyrst’an by Sebastian that the series had entirely overlooked. A detail that most cosplayers ignored.

But it was his smile that truly brought me in. A smile not confined to his lips but one that lit up his entire face, reaching his crimson eyes.

Then he spoke. His voice was deep and rich, without a trace of raspiness. My heart was racing from the near fall, but his voice sent a fresh wave of shivers through me. I had imagined Tyrst’an’s voice countless times over the years, and this man’s tone and timbre matched my dreams perfectly.

“Fiona, darling. You simply must stop falling for me.”

I caught my breath and came to my senses. I couldn’t stop the smile spreading across my face. It was an exact quote from The Chaos Trail, a moment beloved by shippers of Tyrst’an and Fiona. In the book, Fiona fell from a rampart while fleeing the clutches of Oderan the Red Tyrant, landing safely in the arms of her beloved hero.

Without thinking, I slipped into my best Isla-as-Fiona impression and delivered her iconic line:

“As if I could ever stop falling for you, my dear Tyrst’an.”

He helped me gently to my feet, at which point I cried out in pain as my left foot made contact with the floor. Tyrst’an instinctively threw my arm around his shoulder, taking the weight off my foot. I was even closer to him now and inhaled the scent of leather and bergamot. My free hand went to his chest, and I didn’t have enough self-control to even cringe at the act. I don’t know why I did it, but I continued the lines from the book.

“Thank you,” I murmured. “You have appeared to have saved me from my own folly.”

He gave me a smile that made my face flush and something in my chest fluttered. Bray was absolutely right.

He was drop-your-pants worthy.

“As always, Fiona, I am your loyal and loving servant.” Those words. That voice. It had the gravitas that would make any woman’s toes curl. His arms were still around me, steadying me as if I might fall over. I wasn’t. But I also didn’t want to step away either. He nodded toward the elevator bank. “Are you in need of assistance?”

I smiled, trying to keep my head on straight. My Isla/Fiona impression was completely gone now. “How could I refuse such a generous offer?” I straight out gushed, trying not to sound giddy.

He turned so he was beside me, shouldering my weight. I took a couple of steps and winced. The pain wasn’t bad, but walking with that ankle was not fun. He noticed and bent over. “One moment, Lady Fiona.”

As if I weighed nothing at all he lifted me into the air. I let out a small whoop of surprise and found myself tucked up into a full princess carry, my arms draped around his neck. “Better?” he asked.

It was the first time I had ever been swept off my feet before. You’re damn right I was better.

“Outstanding,” I blurted out and blushed from sheer embarrassment. He had the good nature to smile in response. He carried me over to the elevator and, using the toe of my boot, tapped the call button.

“We’ll get you situated and cared for soon enough, Fiona.” When he spoke, I could feel it vibrate through his chest. If I hadn’t fallen over from the broken boot, his words might have knocked me down.

“Do you make it a habit of catching damsels in distress?” I asked.

“I was merely in the right place at the right time,” he replied. “Not that I’m complaining. It’s not often a beautiful woman just falls into your arms.”

If it hadn’t actually happened, I would have rolled my eyes at the line. However, he could probably tell me anything with that voice of his and I would throw myself at him.

“Hmm. Lucky me.” I don’t know what happened to my own voice. If it wasn’t me doing the talking, I would have said I purred.

His face flushed as he let out a small chuckle. “Why do I feel like I’m the lucky one?”