[Training] edge of dawn

Damien

the woods have remembered you

He stayed still for a moment, letting her words settle around them like the snow in the barracks. When he spoke, it wasn’t fast, and it wasn’t loud. Just as steady as always, but it was also deliberate, as if each word had its own weight. “You’re not useless,” he said first, because it needed saying. He let it hang, soft but firm. “Not to me. Not to anyone who’s paying attention. What you just—” he gestured vaguely, not at her body but at the frustration she’d spilled, and he shifted on his feet in a kind of restless manner because she was so unnecessarily hard on herself. “—what you just said, that’s not how I see it. You move like... a shadow or fire. You're clever, you're fast, you're sharp. I’ve had to work harder than I ever thought I would to keep up with you. You've made me stronger.”

He moved to stay in her field of vision, boots crunching in the snow, letting the small distance between them shrink again. His gaze held hers, careful, quiet, but not pleading. “The shield…” His voice dipped a fraction, almost a grunt, almost a sigh. Something on the tip of his tongue that he didn't know how to articulate. “I thought it’d give you more… room to breathe. Not hold you back. I was wrong about it, clearly.” A brief pause, just long enough for the cold to fill it. “Stupid on my part. Didn’t think it through. Just… tossed it at you, hoping it might click. Didn’t mean to make you feel boxed in or… or worse.”

He took another step closer, letting the snow crunch beneath him, steady as his words. “I don’t spar with you to see who wins or loses. I spar with you because…” He looked away for a fraction of a second, chest rising, then back to her. “…because of the rush I get from it, the give and take, the way your mind works under pressure. And you’ve got one of the sharpest minds I’ve ever faced. I can't keep up with you, I have to pull that shit because you'll just.. assassinate me every time, Theea. And you still did anyway." He scoffed because damn it, it was true. "You’re not losing to anything but the lies you tell yourself. The only person you’d ever be losing to in my eyes is the version of yourself who thinks she’s not enough.”

The tension in his shoulders eased, a quiet warmth threading through the cold air. “You want to be your own shield. I get that. And I’ll respect it. But if we’re going to spar, or fight, or whatever comes next…” His voice dropped just slightly, careful and low. “…we can’t have pride getting in the way. You’d have to trust that I’m not trying to put out your fire. And I’d have to trust that you’re not trying to show me up just for the sake of proving you can. Think you can do that?”

ever since the first time you got lost in them

Theea

takes blood, sweat, and tears to look natural

You're not useless.

His voice is steady, a still lake, the silence of snow, the solid weight of a mountain. I keep my eyes down, taking my lower lip between my teeth. Every word he says sinks deep down, settling down like a stone in silt, sending clouds of uncertainty be carried by the current. Everything he says - they're hard words to live up to, told how wonderful I am by my parents for years, and wondering all the time if I can fill the grand space they carved out for me.

He steps around to my line of sight, stepping closer, and I can't help but look then. Gods, it nearly takes my breath away, that unashamed honesty he's got in those dark eyes. He didn't mean for me to lose, he meant for me to have an advantage—and I feel suddenly guilty for thinking that of him. That's not him.

He steps closer, close enough for me to tilt my head to keep my eyes on him, and he keeps going, not letting my head take his words and set them down somewhere else. He means for me to keep them close, and at the mention of assassinating him, I flicker the ghost of a smile, even as a lump is forming in my throat.

Whatever comes next. His voice drops with that, something that fills only the narrow space between us. He says it all like we're a team, like we're teaching each other, not facing off with each other. And I know as well as anyone that while that can be fun... I do have more pride than I like to admit.

I let silence hang between us a moment, arms folded around my middle, and then I drop my eyes, and I drop my forehead against his chest with a slow and unsteady breath. I nod without moving away. "Yeah," I agree, my voice a little more raw than I'd like it to be. I swallow hard. "I'm sorry. It's hard feeling like I've started from square one. I didn't need to take it out on you - you're my best friend."

I didn't really intend to say it, but when I do I know it's true. I've never really had a best friend before. I'm still learning what real friendship is like, but this feels like it has to be it. The trust, the conversation, the comfortable silence, the private smiles and laughter. That's real.

that's how it's done

Damien

the woods have remembered you

Damien hadn’t expected all those words to come out of him. He could feel it in his bones, that long spill of honesty—like once the first stone had been dropped, the rest just followed. And when she leaned in, forehead pressing against his chest, it knocked the breath out of him in a different way. Stunned him silent, his heart thudding hard against her temple. Best friend. She said it like she meant it, and he hadn’t realized how much he’d needed to hear that until now.

A smile crept over him before he could stop it, rough and boyish all at once, like he’d just walked away with a prize he hadn’t known was on the table. “You’re damn right,” he murmured, voice edged with good-humored enthusiasm, chin tilting down so his words brushed close to her hair. “We’re the best.”

He shifted then, turning enough to slide an arm around her shoulders. The shield swung from its strap, forgotten. He leaned his head toward hers, voice low, meant for her alone. “Next time we’ll fight how you want to. I’ll go all cloak-and-dagger, shadows and knives, if that’s what it takes to keep up with you.”

He lingered there for a moment, watching her expression, studying the flicker of it to make sure the storm had passed.

Finally, he drew back just enough to free his arm, turning toward the racks to put away the shields. Over on the bench, Aria stirred, gave a big stretch and biiiig yawn. 

“I will say,” he said once he was done, hefting the axe once, letting the etched blade catch the early light, “I like this one. Think I’ll keep it. You're confident with that sword. Do you like it?” He glanced over at Theea, head tilting.

ever since the first time you got lost in them

Theea

takes blood, sweat, and tears to look natural

I can hear the smile in his voice, his breath brushing over my hair. The sound of his voice so close is warm and grounding compared the cold creeping in now that I've stopped moving.

We're the best.

I love the way he sounds when he's smiling.

He shifts just enough so that his arm slips around me as natural as the sun's light grazing over the world as it rises. I lean my head into him and for a moment, keep an arm around his back. He leans in, and I look up at him, smiling at him.

"I'll teach you to be quick if you teach me how to get stronger."

He lingers close, and my stomach flips when I can suddenly see fireflies in his dark eyes again, my heart pounding, just a little too drunk.

He draws his arm back and the moment fizzles, my breath returning to my lungs, heart falling back into my chest. He's my best friend. He's my best friend. He's my best friend. I'm not ruining this.

I watch him replace both the shields to where they belong, and he hefts the axe. It looks so natural in his hand, and he'd fought with it almost like an extension of himself. His instincts are good.

I look down at the shortsword and give it a twirl. It's weight pulls at my hand differently than my daggers do, and while I think daggers still feel more at home in my hands than this... "I'll have to remind myself more that I dont have to get in so close when it's not a dagger." I shrug and look back at  with a crooked little smile. "But it's growing on me."

that's how it's done

Damien

the woods have remembered you

When he caught the sign he was looking for—something easier in her eyes, less sharp—he let out a quiet breath. A small smile stayed on his mouth. “You’ve got a deal,” he agreed, voice warm with a steadiness that hadn’t been there earlier. For a moment he let himself imagine what that really meant: regular training with Theea, excuses carved clean out of the day to keep coming back to one another. They never seemed to run out of those.

She looked back at him with that crooked little smile, steel glinting faintly as she twirled the shortsword. He listened while she spoke, head cocked, dark eyes fixed on her as though the words mattered more than the weapon itself. When she compared it to her daggers, shrugged, and admitted it was growing on her, he nodded once, slow. “Makes sense. Daggers are quick and close. Sword gives you space. Either way, you make it work.”

On the bench, Aria finally decided her nap was over. The cub hopped down with a small thump, stretching long and shaking her fur out before padding straight to Theea with a chirruping mewl, tail curling high.

Outside, muffled voices carried across the snow—the first stirrings of others arriving to practice. Damien glanced toward the sound, then back at Theea. He crossed the short distance to scoop Aria up, the cub settling into the crook of his arm with a content rumble. He adjusted the axe into a sheath he'd found on the rack.

“You want to get out of here before it fills up?” he asked, subtle but deliberate, “Find something warm to eat.” His gaze lingered on her a moment longer, the invitation carried in the way he tilted his head toward the door. Not a demand, just a chance to stretch the morning, to keep her company a little longer before the world crowded back in.

ever since the first time you got lost in them

Theea

takes blood, sweat, and tears to look natural

I brighten. We have a deal. A training commitment means I’ll see him all the time—maybe not as often as I’d like with two regions between us, but more than now. "I’m gonna make you come train in the sand instead of the snow, too," I tell him, smiling but entirely serious.

My smile purses a little when he says I make it work—always like a fact, never flattery. I glance down at the gleaming blade and weigh it against the daggers I grew up on. Daggers live close to the ribs; this has reach and weight, a different kind of promise. There are benefits here, too. And I’m hunting monsters, not people. Looking at you, mom and dad.

Aria pads over, and I don’t hesitate to sheath the sword and crouch, scritching under her chin. Warmth pools in my chest—a memory of real heat that sinks into bone, even when we were freezing.

I slow my attentions on Aria and straighten at his voice, at the way his eyes settle on me. Beyond the doors, the guards’ clamor starts to wake. My smile goes soft and real and warmer than a hearth, cheeks heating like I’ve stepped into sunlight. An excuse to keep each other’s company—something that isn’t clashing steel and fists or hammering nails and hauling beams.

"Sounds amazing," I breathe, then add, a little too quickly, "I’m freezing. And starving. Worked up an appetite."

As we head for the exit, I bump his shoulder and don’t quite move away. My arm brushes his as we walk, and I let myself—dangerously—wonder what it would feel like to hold his hand.

FIN

that's how it's done