(A/N): Been a while since I've written for League of Legends! xD
I've got significant plans ahead for future stories with my band of TES misfits, but it only seems right to return to the classics! After all, I'm actually a passable player now at long last! (Well, if I'm playing Thresh or Swain...)
Anywho, hoping to portray this more as an angsty friendship fic with a bit of humour sprinkled on, although I've got a feeling it might feel like a romance one at some point... In which case, yuri ahead!
I've been brainstorming FIVE SEPARATE LOL fics involving Fiora, believe it or not. I'm sincerely hoping I'm able to write this one out more efficiently than the others, because I've been having significant trouble with them ._.
Also, I need to stop shipping Lux with so many people. Garen, Darius, Fiora... Who's next? (And don't say Ezreal, because I hate that shipping!)
WARNING: Spelling errors, terrible backstory, awkward dialogue, me trying to present a French accent in text, and potentially suggestive scenes ahead!
Naivety
A thrust, a step, a stab, a step, a lunge, backpedal...
With a sigh combining all the aspects of desire, determination, and vigour in one, Fiora Laurent shuffled back with her blunt-tipped epee on hand. Ignoring a pestering trickle of sweat tickling at her neckline, she took a deep breath before leaping back into action once more.
Thrust, parry, parry, quick-step, lunge... Backpedal...
This had been her morning routine for as long as she could remember, not that she could cast her mind back that far. The life of a duelist is all in the moment - eyes on the prize, one step ahead. Absently she tugged on her towel - tied like a royal sash around her waist - and dabbed at her brow as she lined herself up once more.
The wide open hall she used for training had once been owned by the Demacian City State Council, yet following their departure to a more scenic pad closer to the spire of the palace she'd taken a claim to the abandoned structure for her own use. It didn't bother anyone, and there was more than enough room to fit her training equipment - just what she needed to practice her fencing in privacy.
Returning the towel to her waist she leapt out once more, like a proud Freljordian snow wolf pouncing on its prey and shooting straight for the jugular in one swift motion.
Lunge, backpedal, parry, parry, riposte, lunge!
She could feel her heart racing now, the thump of her pulse beating against her ears. Though the grating sensation of heavy lungs bore its pain on cold mornings such as this, the spark of adrenaline was a thousand times sharper than the tip of the blade – or a round of coffee!
"One more time." she could hear her heart begging, "One more time!"
And she was off: Thrust, slash, parry, thrust, step, lunge!
Fiora swallowed dryly as she froze mid-strike, her lithe frame poised elegantly and her blade point facing ahead as if challenging an invisible foe. With deliberate slowness she allowed her body to loosen, letting the burst of speed and power in her veins fade into nothing, like a young, energetic child falling to sleep after a busy afternoon.
The duelist frowned in distaste, removing her towel from her hips and wrapping it around her glistening neck. It felt cool and soft, absorbing the uncomfortable film of dampness from her boiling skin. Her right leg - the one that led the charge and always stood dominant - felt unbelievably sore, as if she'd somehow pulled a muscle with her last enthusiastic attack.
That'd never happened before, had it?
Spinning the epee between her fingers like a clown with his juggling pins, she slipped it across her buckle and let loose a subdued, if not miserable whine. It was a hard thing to consider, but maybe - just maybe - the famed Grand Duelist of the Laurent household was beginning to falter?
A painful thing to suggest.
No longer was she the young, sparkling, bashful teen haphazardly leaping from scuffle to scuffle as she had been in her heyday so many years ago. Her time in the spotlight was a joyful and memorable one, but all good things must fade eventually - so the new generation can take up the sword and cut their own stories into tree bark and tapestries and the blouses of their foes.
She dabbed her brow once more, wiping off sweat of frustration rather than strain. God forbid, she couldn't even recall the last time she'd been summoned by the League of Legends to represent one of its many aspiring summoners - two, three years?
She doubted they could remember either.
Yet if there was one thing you could be sure about across the whole of the colourful continent of Valoran, it was that Fiora Laurent was as stubborn as an amnesiac Noxian Commander when she so desired. Whipping her towel across her stomach with a swift crack of air, she tugged at the hilt of her blade and assumed her fencing stance once more.
"If age tries to catch up to you." she recalled her sister once saying, the noble air she possessed giving way to an almost mother-like compassion. "You can always out-run it."
She'd keep kicking. She'd keep swinging. She'd keep trying, relentless to her cause.
After all, what's the fun in holding back?
Fiora continued to wave her blade back and forth, like a conductor of the world's most elegant orchestra leading all the violins, all the trumpets, and all the cellos in perfect unison. She must've kept going for another half-hour before she at last felt satisfied, grinning to herself with pride. Snapping her arms, the sash was brandished as a towel once more and she returned to drying herself quietly.
The young blonde woman by the doorway likely entered the room when the duelist had reached up to her shoulder blades, yet she didn't notice her until she'd tossed the ragged towel aside without a care in the world. Fiora tilted her head in recognition; she was a pretty little lady, her eyes more blue than a sharpened sapphire adorning the crown of King Jarvan III. Of course, Fiora knew this girl by name. Everyone this side of Demacia did.
Luxanna Crownguard.
Who hadn't heard of the prodigy? The Crownguards were so proud of her accomplishments they put careful emphasis on plastering her kiddie little face all over the walls of the city. Often times you'd see parents waggling fingers at unruly children, tutting to them grumpily; "Darling, if you keep acting like that you'll never be like Luxanna!"
But she was naive, and she was foolish. She was just a young girl with a bit of talent is all - she hadn't honed her skills on the battlefield, or spent hours upon days upon years perfecting her craft like the Laurent had. The cutesy little lady had simply been lucky, and as a result Demacia cherished her as if their lives depended on it.
That was all well and good.
But what was she doing here?
Lux stood by the entrance to the hall quietly, her hands held behind her back and her frame tense with caution. It wasn't that the duelist before her was a stranger. Far from it - she knew more about Fiora Laurent than she did about the science behind rainbows. The simple truth was that she found the fencer's bravado and overwhelming self-confidence a tad bit intimidating at times, and while she was usually quite skilled at wearing a jolly face around those poor few people she detested, with her she just wasn't capable of it.
"... Yes?" Fiora eventually spoke with a splash of venom, visibly puffing up her chest at the intruder arrogantly. If Lux was like any other member of her household she'd need to assert her dominance, like a sergeant on the front, or a dog whisperer in a village cottage. "What is it?"
The blondie flinched at the sudden set of sounds, bending her knees somewhat as if she'd just been made to catch a gigantic parcel from a mile away. After a painstakingly long stand-off that only needed a tumble-weed to resemble the real thing in Bilgewater, Lux walked - or rather stumbled - towards Fiora with her head held up high and an expression of determination tugging at her lips to form a rather hefty scowl.
The Laurent was clearly not impressed, the air of the girl's actions reeking with superiority. The fencer folded her toned arms, looking down at the shorter woman as she continued her march. "I asked you a question, girl." she hissed with hostility. Lux shuffled past her, staring off into the middle-distance as if she were in some sort of smugness-induced trance. Fiora's eyes darted after her with haste, "Don't ignore me."
Luxanna Crownguard would've crashed into the adjacent wall if she hadn't stopped by Fiora's rack of foils and blades, the weapons numbering at a measly nine; all well kept and maintained with elaborate means. Lux brushed her fingers atop their ornate hilts, before stiffly tugging out the smallest epee she could find - a mere butter knife compared to the rest of the arsenal.
"What are you doing with my swords?" the fencer asked, her drying patience and burning irritation evolving into a sense of total confusion. She wandered up to the girl and leant against the adjacent wall, waving her hand in front of her eyes yet to no avail. "... Hello? Am I invisible in this vest? Can't you see me?"
"Y-Yes..." the young girl suddenly responded, causing Fiora to hop out of her boots for a fraction of a moment. After a pause Lux lowered her gaze before grasping onto her fragile, miniscule shoulder, fiddling with the straps of her ceremonial plate armour - personally crafted and expertly fitted for her use in the League at the cost of a small fortune, no doubt. "I can see you, Miss Laurent."
Fiora sneered like she'd just had the ending of a fantasy novel spoiled, eying the gentle woman as she continued to strip her armour down. "Why are you undressing?" she asked awkwardly, making no actual attempt to avert her gaze - much to Lux's redness. With her bare arms exposed and her vest becoming visible, Fiora began to theorise what the daft Crownguard was up to. "... You may have taken a wrong turn, this isn't a masseuse or anything of the like, girl!"
Lux shook her head rapidly, removing her chest-plate and shuddering as the invasive air of the hall rushed against her arms. She spoke out as if the words had been stuck on the tip her tongue for days, "Garen sent me!"
Oh yes, that explained everything.
Fiora raised an eyebrow, catching a renegade droplet of sweat before it could make a runner from her hairline. She was grasping at straws here - Lux couldn't be any more unhelpful unless she started breaking things. "Garen sent you?" the older woman repeated, prompting the Crownguard to nod curtly. Bending her knees to make direct eye contact with the teen, she deliberately spoke with a slowness often reserved for foreign tourists, Yordles and the mentally disabled. "Why would he do that, Luxanna Crownguard?"
Blondie ignored the rudeness and spite in her tone, gently setting her plate against the wall with a dull - yet surprisingly heavy - clunk. "He... H-He's worried that I can't defend myself." she admitted shyly, clasping at her arms as the chill of the room pierced through the thin shielding of her vest. "He said that... He said that I need to learn how to fight with a sword!"
Oh.
Well, that changed everything.
Garen was never the sharpest blade in the armoury, but the brute did have his uses when need be. If anything the flattery overrode her disgust for a moment. Did the leader of the Dauntless Vanguard really think of the Laurents that highly? Did Garen actually believe that Fiora had the skills necessary to teach a bumbling ditz of a girl with no past combat experience how to weave the ancient art of war?
Fiora placed a firm hand on the teen's bare shoulder, their infusing warmth bringing a surprising amount of comfort to the both of them. "Listen, girl - fencing is not something you learn overnight. It takes months, years of dedication!" she warned. She couldn't help but notice that she was sounding more and more like an old biddy with every sentence she uttered. All she needed was the hand-bag and a hunchback, and the image would be complete. The fencer squeezed Lux's arms gently, her blush seeming to rise and fall depending on the pressure she exerted. "Your family is one to boast, but even with your talent it shall take much work!"
"I can do it!" Lux insisted, raising her teensy chin high in defiance. After an awkward moment she shyly broke loose from the duelist's grip, slipping past her and standing a few metres away. With a grumble of effort she heaved her butter knife upwards, teetering from side to side as she took form - resembling a child playing knights and dragons with their friends. "G-Garen taught me his spinny-to-winny thingie, so bring it on!"
Spinny-to-Winny Thingie?
This was escalating quickly, and Fiora wasn't too fond of it. Turning to face Luxanna, the Laurent's head tilted even further with confusion to present a perfect right angle. She must've been part owl or something of the like. "I beg your pardon?"
Lux grinned with false confidence, suddenly waving the blade left and right as if she were macheting her way through a crowd in a market street. She thrusted, stumbled, then returned to her exhausting display. "Spin to win!" the blond ditz announced, attempting to add a few twirls into her taunting dance. At last Luxanna brandished her blade, forcing a challenging laugh from her heaving lungs. "... Ha!"
The Grand Duelist paced closer, eying her opponent as the sun pierced the hall's stained windows. You could hear a pin drop within the confines of the building, the pulses and heartbeats of the frightened young woman plaguing the air with their gentle tunes. Fiora raised her epee in challenge, the speed in which she'd drawn so swift that the Crownguard hadn't even realised. The fencer eyed the young girl judgingly, whose chest heaved with poorly hidden anxiety.
Lux raised her weapon to strike.
With one casual movement Fiora flung the sword from the girl's hands with the tip of her blade, before lazily turning away. She muttered airily, "Pathetic."
That was anti-climatic.
The clatter of the foil spinning away across the floor was almost deafening, prompting Lux to frown. "G-Give me a chance!" she growled, scampering for the sword like she was after loose change and bringing it back up for round two. Fiora swivelled back around to face her, raising an eyebrow in judgement. The young girl shook her head, waving the sword once more. "Like you said, it'll take some time..."
She had to admit, she couldn't help but admire the Crownguard's dedication. She'd been pretty certain that the blondie would've given up right there and then, but of course life is full of pleasant surprises. Fiora sliced at the air, flexing her stiff shoulders. "Fine." she agreed, "Come here. Stand with me."
Lux flinched with the sudden change in tone, "Oh." she murmured, bowing her head obediently, "O-Okay". Shuffling across the metre gap between them, she awkwardly stood alongside the towering woman and held her blade at the ready. Fiora certainly didn't like that, because within a moment her hands were clasping onto the girl's shoulders and fixing her stance.
"Stand like me." the duelist grumbled, forcing the young girl from her withdrawn, reserved stance into the proper posture of a true fencer. Lux seemed to grow warmer as the fencer's fingers ran along her extremities, yet Fiora didn't take much note of it. Satisfied for the moment Fiora assumed her own pose, readying her blade to begin what - she honestly hoped - would be an easy session. "Step..." she motioned, "Step..." she repeated, prodding her weapon forward. "Thrust..."
Fiora turned to her student as if to say "your turn", although her saddened pout was certainly unexpected. Maybe the fencer hadn't noticed, but Lux couldn't really see her from this angle. The teen growled grumpily, swinging on her heels. "Just saying that won't help me too much!"
The Laurent must've taken this as a challenge, because with the clop of her heels against the well-polished floorboards she marched forward and then pivoted on her toes. "Very well, then observe!" she held up her epee, the delicious sound of her blade cutting through the air sweet music to the young girl's ears. "Thrust, step, thrust, step, lunge!"
With her final jab Fiora poked at the Crownguard's chest, prodding her breast with an agile poke. "H-Hey!" Luxanna yelped in surprise, leaping back and folding her arms across her bust protectively. Fiora snickered at her reaction, amused by how easy it was to fill the girl's cheeks with virulent crimson.
"Your defenses are too squishy, yes?" Fiora teased with a grin, gesturing at her to come forward once more. As the fearful girl gradually advanced like a forest animal wary of predators, the swordswoman circled her and stood by her six. Lux awkwardly turned to try and face her, yet Fiora quickly rested her hands upon her head like a hairdresser with a young customer. Firmly yet gently she turned her to face forward, resting her hands on her shoulders. "Now, without me."
Lux gulped with paranoia, confused as to why she'd been thrown onto the spot so quickly. Surely learning to use the blade would be a slow paced affair? She'd expected no more than a couple of exercises, but already she was knee deep - or rather sword deep - into the swing of things. Fiora's hands hesitantly released her from their grasp, and nudged her forward. "Thrust..." Luxanna said awkwardly, pushing her blade forward at a jagged angle. "... Step, thrust..." she continued, her balance faltering as she tried to attack on the move. She stumbled for a foothold, stuttering in panic. "S-Step!"
Of course her tutor was quick to react, her calloused hands quick to pull her back to balance. "Your posture, girl!" Fiora tutted judgingly, straining to break her from her curved, almost slouched position. The fencer shook her head judgingly, "Stay straight!" she commanded, gently slapping the Crownguard's rear - prompting her to arch her back and follow her words.
Well, that worked at least.
It was safe to say that Lux looked ridiculous, her small body attempting to reach out in the same fashion as her tall and slender teacher. "I-It's uncomfortable..." she struggled to say, beads of sweat at last beginning to slip down her spotless skin. It almost seemed to accentuate her cute, youthful frame, although Fiora laboured to ignore such things. Her grip seemed to be faltering at first, yet despite her shaking hands it remained true. "And heavy!"
Once more the teacher's hands were upon her student's shoulders - for no purpose; she just felt like touching her. "Nothing is comfortable the first time, Luxanna!" she pointed out, beginning to see herself within the girl. She would've given up years ago if it wasn't for the encouragement of her sibling, and rest assured she never wanted to see someone abandon hope again.
Even if she was a Crownguard.
"If it were comfortable from the start, the world would be nothing but success stories, yes?" Fiora reminded, a obstinate set of fingers brushing down Lux's shoulders reassuringly. The girl's trembling seemed to even out, her pressure and self-doubt wavering under the Laurent's words. Fiora was coming to realise the major flaw with being so tall - she could always be tempted by the sight of the soft, beautiful, distracting golden hair of ladies such as Luxanna. The fencer circled her again, drawing her blade and brushing its tip against Lux's foil. "Now try again."
Within moments the doubt returned, "Against you?" she squeaked, her knees practically knocking together in panic. Her growing chest rose with nervous breaths, "But... B-But you saw what happened earlier!"
Fiora's words were simple. "But that was earlier." she said, folding her left arm behind her back. "Not now, blondie." the duelist tapped her student's blade with two subtle knocks, slowly raising her epee for a slash. "Parry me."
"Do your best, and it'll be enough."
"Only because you said so, sister."
"Only because of you."
"W-What's a parry-" Lux began to question, yet was quickly cut off as Fiora's hit slammed against the guard of her weapon. Her tiny fist opened as a surge of pain shot through her arm, the blade once again bouncing across the floor and making a break for it like a deer in the spotlights. "Ow!" she yelped, childishly squatting and squeezing her hand between her knees, "Owie owie ow ow!"
Typical.
The teacher sheathed her epee on her buckle, exhaling with mild irritation. "Oh, shhh." she sighed, bending over to look at her in a rather parental manner. Lux continued to rock on her feet, her injured hand locked in place and hidden from view. "Stop being such a princess, girl." Fiora growled at the melodrama. While she was no medicus or healer, that didn't mean she was entirely incapable of tending to a common training injury. The Laurent crouched lazily, patting Lux's knee before offering her hand - a friendly expression glued to her chops. "Come here."
The Crownguard was certainly caught off guard as her mentor of ten minutes took a firm and commanding hold of her palm, clasping it between her hands. With slow and sensual movements she began to rub, caressing the glowing limb like one would mould clay. Lux had lost count of the reasons why she kept on blushing - this time it was Fiora's touch; soft yet strong, elegant yet pin-point all at once. She couldn't help but wonder, "What... What are you doing?"
Fiora's brow was up yet again, "You are hurt." she pointed out, her thumb pressing against the young girl's palm and running a circle around its timid shape. Her elder sister often did this for her when she was injured in her youth - a gentle massage, like you were pushing all the pain away. The only difference between then and now seemed to be that Fiora was taking a surprising amount of joy out of it. "How does it feel now?" she questioned, slowing her movements.
She was thankful that her tutor had slowed down - at last she could actually think straight, that's for certain. The sensation was strange, and for some peculiar reason she couldn't help but think of her mother - and their distance. "It feels quite..." she began, gently flexing her fingers. The pain was certainly dwindling, as if Fiora was absorbing it with her rubs. "N-Nice."
Her grin seemed almost mocking as she briefly squeezed Lux's hand - and squeezed a yelp of surprise from her lips with it. "Us duelists get cuts aplenty." she pointed out, suddenly focusing her attention on her patient's ring finger of all places. The Crownguard glanced at her lap, too embarrassed to make eye-contact with Laurent's star child. "You should get used to them."
And lots of this too.
Luxanna nodded in acknowledgement yet kept her head down low, like an adorable puppy begging for forgiveness. Still Fiora continued to tend to her hand; she was probably better now, yet she couldn't help but enjoy caressing her soft palms and cute little fingers. Even if she was a young woman, she still had the body of a blooming girl. Lux eventually turned to look at her, watching the duelist as she tended to her pained thumb. "… Do you have any scars?"
The fencer blinked and her movements paused. After a moment of glancing into the girl's cerulean eyes, she eventually returned to work. "Yes, yes."
The blondie fidgeted on the spot shyly, her hand remaining in the duelist's clutches. A few seconds later she spoke again, the shudder of her voice sending a chill throughout her fragile, girlish body. "… C-Can I see?"
Fiora snickered at this, feeling like playing with the confused girl's head a little bit more. At last she released Lux from her grasp, causing her to whimper from the sudden loss of warmth. "My my, I thought you liked boys." Fiora chuckled, her hand raising to the strap of her vest and tugging at it provocatively. "But if you would like..."
The Crownguard gasped in embarrassment, the strap of the garment sinking down Fiora's arm to reveal a feminine and curvaceous shoulder in all of its glory. "N-Nevermind!" she cried, bowing her head so far she could practically see the wall behind herself. "You don't have to show it to me!"
A cheeky giggle filled the air, as Fiora 'reluctantly' obeyed the girl's wishes with an exaggerated pout. "Awww, meanie."
Oh, she had her scars - everyone did, physical or otherwise. Scars have a strange ability to remind us that the past is real, and more often than not Fiora was thankful for the memories; a day of training, a disaster in the League, a simple mistake in cooking at home with her sister those years ago. The list went on.
Just listen to her.
She was sounding like an old housemaid.
The Laurent felt like tending to the girl's hand some more, but she didn't want to spoil herself too much. She was supposed to be a disciplined woman after all. Like the hypocrite she was she treated herself to one last rub. "Feeling better?"
Lux briskly nodded, gently tugging her palm away. "Mmhmm..." she held her hands together - they felt so warm, and the red marks of her injury seemed to have vanished under the intensive care of Fiora's trained fingers. The fencer hauled herself to her feet and offered her hand to the Crownguard, who accepted it - the height difference still unnerving no doubt. "... So now what?"
"Why, you are an eager one!" she winked, prompting Lux to grumble in distaste - resembling a little girl stressing that she wasn't a child anymore. Fiora shook her head dismissively, continuing to speak as she walked towards Luxanna's discarded foil and retrieved it. "I'm afraid you arrived at a bad time today, Luxanna. No more training for now."
The disappointment was evident in her posture; the understanding and maturity in her voice. "... I see."
Fiora slipped the weapon back into its sheath, alongside its fellows upon her arms rack. Returning to the girl, she couldn't help but frown at her saddened stance - which she quickly solved with a swift slap and squeeze of the bottom. The fencer grinned at her embarrassed squeak, "Come back tomorrow morning, early yes?"
"S-Stop doing that!" Lux cried, tugging at her leggings protectively. Even the Crownguard couldn't help but giggle, innocently waving good-bye before skipping off towards the way she came. Within moments she was speaking again, looking back at her observing tutor "... Will I get better?"
The Laurent flinched, rolling the question around her head. "The biggest hurdle is your first steps." she settled on, folding her arms across her chest. Lux nodded in an absent way, as if she had no idea what the phrase meant but didn't want to dwell on it. "Once that's sorted - tomorrow - all shall become clear."
"Right." the novice acknowledged, continuing to walk. "... Okay." she confirmed, twiddling her fingers as she reached the door. Her voice suddenly became weak for the briefest of moments."Tomorrow I'll be better... ... Bye Miss Laurent!"
"Fiora, girl." the Tutor reminded, dismissing her with a whip of her hand. The girl finally slinked away, leaving nothing but her sweet scent dwindling in the air. The duelist shook her head, tugging at her towel cum sash and slapping it around her shoulders once more. While she wanted to feel hopeful for Lux, unsettling doubt remained wedged uncomfortably in her throat - dreams don't always become a reality. Wandering over to the arms rack, she did a double-take at the sight of a clean, curvy, feminine-shaped alloy. "... You forgot your armour, Luxanna."
Within moments the teen barrelled right back into the room, snatching the armour from the ground before Fiora could even offer it to her. Hopping away again, she frantically waved as she held the plate before her rising, air-starved chest. "B-Bye!"
A smirk, a wave, and a light-switch a minute later. Fiora slipped on her jacket, glanced back at the hall one last time, and departed for another boring day.
X
The hall's door was pushed open far earlier than usual the following morning, Fiora Laurent forcing the stiff and poorly shaped oaken passageway forward with a ram or two of her shoulder. She couldn't help but reflect on the previous dawn - the pain and discomfort that shot through her limbs as she casually conducted her blade and body in unison.
She had to make sure.
The fencer never truly felt at ease without a sword on hand. Maybe a longer session would give her time to think - to work out what she was going to do with herself in the near future. Her paranoid and vain mind wanted to prove the impossible; that she wasn't beginning to weaken as the days went by, and that she was just as excellent and perfect as she was when she began.
"Really, Fiora." she mumbled to herself quietly, tugging her jacket off with haphazard movements. Even on cold mornings she rarely wore more than her coat and vest; it kept her awake with the ice, and made her all the more willing to get herself moving. "Don't be so anxious, yes?" the duelist reminded, wandering into the training room. She'd work on her footwork first - that was key.
Perhaps the first thing that was off in the hall was the location of her arms rack. Sat by the doorway was a jumble of epees and foils, all clattered and toppled onto the cool wooden floorboards. The second thing took a moment to register in her confused mind, but it was by far all the more major. Lux was alongside the pile of blades, slouched on her knees with her head hung low. She was breathing ever so lightly - gentle sighs of a girl deep within the haze of her dreams.
She was beginning to topple.
"L-Luxanna?" Fiora stuttered, the sudden panic of hundreds of questions bursting through her veins. The clop of her heels began to stir Lux from her sleep, yet her warm, supportive embrace and protective grasp as she sat by her side completed the process. "Silly girl, nap time is over!"
The Crownguard hesitantly murmured, her limp limbs attempting to strengthen. "I-I..." she mumbled, her fingers clasping tightly across the hilt of an epee by her side. "I can hold it now..." the girl struggled to smile, her shivering arm raising the blade but a fraction of an inch from the ground. Fiora rested the poor child's head against her chest, watching with awe as the exhausted teen waved the blade. Lux softly nudged the duelist's chin with her head, glancing up at her proudly, "... See?"
Fiora grumbled furiously, wrapping her arms around her student's waist and fidgeting awkwardly. "Don't tell me you've been here all night?" she frowned, flinching at the sound of the blade slamming against the floor once more. Luxanna sunk into her arms, her sleeping frame falling loose in Fiora's warmth. The fencer chuckled dryly, leaning her back against the wall. "... Hmph, at least you didn't tell me."
The unconscious girl felt surprisingly light. Almost like a snuggly teddy bear, with the weak limbs of a ragdoll and a cuddly form. Awkwardly the Laurent tried to adjust their peculiar position, gently placing her fair head across her lap - her sweet smell was everywhere now, be it a blessing or a curse. With another snap of agility Fiora's towel was out, which she maturely dabbed across the girl's sweaty forehead.
"You're such a naïve little girl." she tutted as she rubbed her forehead better, nursing her student back to health with slow but efficient progress. Fiora imagined her sibling again - now she was the one tending to a youth, caressing their tired body and keeping them safe. Hadn't she been recklessly training all night that fateful day? Hadn't her sister arrived and sheltered her like a loving mother? Without even realising her fingers were exploring once more, curling and twisting those golden locks that seemed to catch her eye at every moment. "… I-I guess naïvety leads to courage sometimes, yes?"
Beyond darkened eyes and a fatigued expression, Fiora couldn't help but spot the birth of a proud smile tugging at the corners of Lux's lips. Brushing at her hair with delicate fingers, an aged scar remained in sight across the teacher's knuckles - from when her journey into the art of duelling began.
"I was like you once, Luxanna…" she admitted, her warm hands clasping at the Crownguard's fragile shoulders and sitting her up upon her lap. Lux certainly wasn't alone - the Laurent was just as naive to have doubted the prodigy's talents. She rested her chin upon her hair, its softness and curls cushioning her with their magnificence. "... Well done, sleepy head."
Her arms wrapped around the teen's waist, their breaths gentle in the early morning breeze. Fiora couldn't help but wonder - perhaps having an apprentice wasn't too bad? She'd been the younger sibling of a caring, mature individual.
Perhaps now it was her turn?
A little sister of her own?
Well, she thought, comfort filling her heart.
There was always tomorrow.
X
(A/N): That pacing was awful, I apologise!
Another case of a decent idea with terrible presentation I suppose, oh well...
Also, RIP to my cat Buttons who was put down during the course of writing! If only I had a better fic to mourn his passing with :(