A/N: I'm going to go ahead and instantly make myself a liar by posting this on a Wednesday when I said I wouldn't. I'm not going back to my old posting schedule permanently, but I believe the pacing of this part of the story requires a slightly accelerated schedule.
Her head was pounding and it spun as if she had just gotten off a carnival ride. Her mouth was dry, and her hands shook, but Raven was nothing if not a master of self-control. She shoved all the distractions and discomforts and confusion to the back of her mind. She had responsibilities. Her own comfort, even her own health, could and would be sacrificed for those duties.
And so she ignored all the warning signs her body was giving her, striding through the dim halls of Tamaran Base with her cloak billowing out behind her. Only those who knew her well would have been able to see the slightest sluggishness in those steps, the hint of uncertainty that marred her usual unthinking grace.
One such person followed along behind her, trying to get her to take it easy and rest, but ignoring Beast Boy was even easier than blocking out pain and discomfort for Raven. Long habit had made it so.
"You shouldn't be up yet," the youngest Titan said. "It's only been a few hours since you passed out."
In the silence of her mind, the sorceress seethed at the young swordsman who had been vexing her for months now. Brand's infatuation with her was bad enough – a problem that would need to be fixed, and soon – but this over-protectiveness was intolerable. Following her stricken ship down to Jalascis was foolish, but flattering... treating her like an invalid was insulting. Her cheeks darkened slightly, and she was grateful for the hood that covered her head, hiding her embarrassment. She remembered the Weapon's arms around her, the way he had so condescendingly put her back to bed, as if she were a child who needed taking care of.
"Seriously, Raven," Beast Boy said from behind her, nearly jogging to keep up with her long strides. "We didn't mean anything by it, we were just worried about you."
And then he had had the gall to send Beast Boy down to keep an eye on her. Had even ordered the changeling to keep her in her room. So she had gotten shot down in Tamaranean space, so she had been injured by the Citadel armies... that didn't mean she was incapable of taking care of herself, of taking part in the defense of the temple. He'll be the one bedridden once I'm done with him, Raven swore to herself.
"He said he'd be back to tell you what the colonel said, so you should just -"
She swept into the command room like a blue-cloaked storm. Heads turned at her approach, and she saw uncertainty, even fear in their eyes. The sorceress slowed fractionally. I didn't realize I looked so angry, she thought, visibly calming herself, pulling her emotions back into the dark corners of her mind. Ph'yzzon was standing at the large windows that overlooked the temple courtyard, hands clasped behind his back, but he seemed to sense the Titans arrival and turned to face them.
The dark-skinned Tamaraneans mouth tightened as he spotted them. "Lady Raven... Beast Boy..." he said stiffly, inclining his head in a brief, respectful nod to the sorceress as she came to a halt in front of him, his large form blocking the window.
"I apologize for our intrusion, Colonel," Raven said, guessing that the soldier's tone and facial expression were signs of disapproval for their sudden entrance. "And for not getting here sooner," she added, hooded eyes searching the room for the white-haired swordsman, wondering where he was. He was supposed to be talking to Ph'yzzon, she thought irritably.
"It is I who should apologize," Ph'yzzon said. "It was my carelessness that led to... your injury."
Raven waved away the apology. "It's nothing." In fact, she wished that everyone would stop making such a big deal of it. She had taken much worse in her time as a Titan. "My... associate was supposed to be here to ask about our situation."
The colonel's lip twisted downward slightly. "And he was. He is no longer here, as you can see."
"I know Brand can be a bit... brusque," Raven explained, misinterpreting the big man's tone and facial expression. "I should have come myself, but he insisted. I hope he didn't cause too much of a disruption."
"'A disruption'," Ph'yzzon repeated slowly. "One might say that."
The hair on the back of Raven's neck stood up, a sense of dread filling her. "What did he do?" she asked.
In answer, the colonel took a long step to his left, one arm rising to indicate the courtyard beyond the window, which was lit with the orange light of the rising sun. Wisps of morning fog drifted across the surface, refracting the sunlight. On the dark stones of the courtyard, Brand stood, a small but distinctive figure with his pale hair and black clothes. He was stretching, cracking his knuckles, affecting an air of boredom and routine. Across the way, just outside the jungle that encroached on the temple grounds, hundreds of Citadel soldiers had gathered, hooting and shouting. Brand ignored them.
"Oh, no," Raven said, the dread crystallizing into a ball of ice in the pit of her stomach. "What is he doing?"
Ph'yzzon took a deep breath, watching her closely. "Your friend has taken it upon himself to challenge the Citadel's leader – the Tamaranean Darkfire – to single combat."
"Alone?!" Beast Boy asked, sounding as stunned as Raven herself felt. Apparently, the Weapon had not shared his plan with the shape-shifter.
The dark-cloaked sorceress shook her head, staring out at the solitary figure in front of the temple. "Why?" she asked in utter disbelief. "Does he really think he can fight a Tamaranean and win? Is he that arrogant?"
"Perhaps," the colonel said, his tone thoughtful. "But he claimed to have heard from your friends on Tamaran. They will be arriving soon with reinforcements. Brand is only trying to buy time for them to reach us."
Reflexively, Raven slipped a hand beneath her cloak to where her communicator usually hung from her belt. Nothing. She remembered Brand's hand against her hip before she had fallen asleep. At the time, the sorceress had assumed he was just getting fresh, but he had been taking her communicator. And now he was putting himself on the line, alone, to protect Tamaran Base.
She felt ashamed, realizing that she had misjudged the Weapon on multiple levels, but she refused to forgive him completely. "We have to stop him," Raven said quietly. "He's the last one who should be out there."
"Brand was most convincing," Ph'yzzon explained. "And his plan is sound, in theory, but..."
Raven glanced at the big Tamaranean. "What is it?"
She saw sorrow in those green eyes. "It is likely that Brand will give up his life for nothing. The attempt is noble, but I do not believe he will survive long enough to provide the time we need."
Amethyst eyes moved back to the courtyard, where a figure in dark armor was floating out from the jungle, past the line of Citadel troops, to face Brand. She could imagine the ever-present smirk on the Weapon's face as he prepared to fight. He has to know he can't win, she thought. She felt a trickle of pride and turned her head from side to side, refuting Ph'yzzon's words. "Don't underestimate a Titan, Colonel," she said.
Her tone was as flat as ever, but Beast Boy shot her a look as if she had just started singing a pop song. "Never expected to hear you call him that," he muttered.
Ph'yzzon gave a grunt of what might have been approval. Darkfire had reached the courtyard and set down across the way from Brand, looking dangerous and regal in his dark armor, red-hair streaming behind him. Human and Tamaranean faced each other, both in black. The big colonel turned to one of his staff members. "Activate the audio pickups," he commanded. There was a squeal of feedback before the sound was properly piped into the command center, and then...
"- got your cheerleaders back there to give you moral support," Brand was saying, cocky and carefree. The sounds of the Citadel army were a constant rumble in the background of the audio feed.
Darkfire's tone matched his name, furious but heavy as an overcast night. "And I see that your friends have abandoned you to meet your fate alone. Clearly they are more intelligent than you are."
Raven could see Brand's elaborate shrug from the command center. "No need to wake them up for this," he said. His voice was still light, but the sorceress was struck by the ambiguity of his statement. "I'm sure your boys need some rest, too," he continued, gesturing to the watching Citadel troops. "Running away must be exhausting."
"Did you call me out here to hurl pathetic insults or do you actually intend to fight at some point?" Darkfire asked, sounding bored.
The smirk on Brand's face was almost audible. "I can do both," he said.
"Then do so!" Darkfire charged, lifting off from the ground, arm drawn back for a battle-ending haymaker punch.
Raven tensed, wondering what Brand would do, if his enhanced speed was enough for him to counter or his enhanced durability enough to take a punch from a Tamaranean. Instead, Brand took a step backwards, hands raising palms-out in a worthless defensive gesture, and seemed to stumble, falling backwards onto his rear. Darkfire overshot his mark and skidded to a halt on the dark stones, turning to face his opponent, who had regained his feet, once again. The sorceress narrowed her eyes. What was that? She asked herself.
Darkfire advanced again, slower this time, walking towards the Weapon, closing within striking distance before attempting to punch the swordsman. Brand leaned backwards, almost losing his balance again, but barely managing to dodge the blow. His arms wind-milled and the Tamaranean aimed a kick, but Brand lifted one foot off the ground in attempt to re-position himself, avoiding the kick by seeming accident.
"Stop playing and fight," Darkfire roared. He leaped back, lifting one arm. A red glow surrounded his hand for an instant before a starbolt fired across the gap. The Weapon dodged again, but just barely, stumbling out of the way almost clumsily.
Beast Boy made a noise of frustration. "What the heck is he doing?" the changeling asked. "He's faster than that."
Raven almost smiled. She remembered two days ago when Brand has let his module get shot up in order to trick the enemy into thinking he was dead so they would give up the search. "He's fighting smarter," she said. She recalled one of their many arguments... "I remember everything you say, Raven," he had said. And maybe he did.
"If that's fighting smart, then I should be leading the Titans," the emerald shape-shifter joked.
"He's buying time," Raven explained. "He's not fighting to win. He's not trying to beat Darkfire. The longer he draws this out, the more time he gives Robin and the others to get here." Dimly, she was aware of Ph'yzzon moving away to consult with his troops.
Beast Boy considered that. "That is pretty smart," he admitted.
But how long can he keep it up? The sorceress wondered.
Brand wasn't sure whether to be pleased or embarrassed about his performance so far. The bumbling start to the fight had actually been Ph'yzzon's idea, rather than his own. It stung the swordsman's pride, but he had to keep in mind that he wasn't battling Darkfire to win. He had to play for the others right now. For Raven.
And so he walked the tightrope between idiocy and brilliance. Avoiding the Tamaranean's attacks without looking as if he were intentionally doing so. He stumbled away from a starbolt, tripped past a kick, stopped to tighten the laces on one boot and slipped under a punch, all the while, hiding his true speed. It felt like moving in slow motion to the Weapon, but he wanted to keep an ace up his sleeve until it was needed.
A constant stream of invective escaped from Darkfire's lips, no doubt meant to insult the swordsman, but Brand couldn't understand any of the alien words that he heard. "Get serious, you human fool! Did you call me out here to dance or to fight?"
That one Brand understood.
"If you want to hit me, then hit me," the Weapon responded with a smirk.
But Darkfire didn't charge again, simply shook his head, red hair swaying from side to side. "Enough of this," he said. "Your ploy was obvious from the start, but I have no intention of playing along with your idiotic game. The attack will commence now."
Not fair! Brand thought, gritting his teeth. Not even close to enough time had passed. The Tamaranean began to lift his arm in a signal to his waiting troops.
In the space between heartbeats, the Weapon was already moving, closing the gap between them almost instantly and slamming one closed fist into Darkfire's jaw before the alien could finish his gesture. The young Citadel commander flew several feet through the air before impacting the dark, rough stones of the courtyard, rolling for another few yards before coming to a halt. Brand couldn't help himself. He laughed darkly. "This is it," he said quietly, giving a feral grin to his opponent as the Tamaranean rose slowly to his feet. Playing possum was all well and good, but a straight up fight was more his speed. "First blood," he said, loud enough for Darkfire to hear him. His resolve to buy more time crumbled before the surge of adrenaline he felt, a thrill of excitement at fighting this new opponent for real. Was this what you really wanted all along? He asked himself, and was dismayed to find he didn't have an answer.
To his credit, the Tamaranean gave him a hard-edged smile in return. "You were holding back," he acknowledged. "I trust this means that playtime is over."
"I'm just getting started," Brand said. He darted forward again, a flicker of black and red in the orange light. Another gloved fist shot out, but it impacted solidly into Darkfire's crossed arms. Blocked. Quick as thought, Brand dropped to sweep the young man's legs. Unfortunately, the move really was quicker than his thought: although his foot slid the Tamaranean's feet out from under him, the swordsman's opponent didn't fall, he simply floated, parallel to the ground. One of Darkfire's hands extended, glowing crimson. Ah, dammit, Brand had time to think before the starbolt fired.
"That can't be good," Beast Boy said, hands and face pressed against the windows of the command center, watching the duel continue. Raven didn't respond, ignoring him as usual. She stood at the window, hands at her side, cold and calm. Only her eyes belied her anxiety, flicking back and forth in time with the reversals of the battle.
The changeling couldn't understand her apparent placidity. He himself had been nearly bouncing off the walls as the battle had continued, commentating on each move, imagining what he would do in Brand's place. In all humility, Beast Boy thought he would have been the better choice to fight Darkfire. After all, he had defeated Starfire's evil doppelgänger when Trigon had invaded. Not even a Tamaranean could survive a brontosaur to the backside.
He realized suddenly that he had narrated that last part out loud, and Raven was glaring at him. Beast Boy winced, knowing he had brought back painful memories for his friend. And now of all times, he thought. He resolved to keep quiet from here on out, turning back to the window.
The starbolt had blasted apart one of the great stones of the courtyard, throwing up a huge cloud of dark dust, blocking both opponents from view. Only the red flickers of further starbolts could be seen in the smoky air. The Citadel army's cheers grew louder. Raven, looking out at the courtyard again, lifted one hand up to the window, and Beast Boy glanced at her. "I'm sure he'll be fine," he croaked, breaking his promise of only a minute earlier.
No answer. Not that he expected one.
In front of the temple, the smoke was clearing, blowing away in a sudden gust of wind from the west. Darkfire was floating five feet above the arena, imperious in his sable armor, hands glowing red. A last puff of smoke faded, and Brand was revealed, winded and bent over slightly, one sleeve burned off.
Both Titans in the control room let out a breath they hadn't known they were holding. "How long has it been?" Beast Boy asked, glancing around the room as if expecting to find an Earth-style clock hanging on the wall. Finding nothing, he turned back to the window. Several seconds passed, and his green eyes blinked. Then he looked into the command center again.
There was no one else there.
"Uh... Raven?" he asked. But the sorceress ignored him, violet eyes fixed on the battle.
Brand shook his right arm, as if the tingling, burning from the starbolt he had not quite avoided could be removed so easily. Well I finally know how it feels when Starfire blasts someone with one of those, he thought. He was trying to be optimistic, but his smile had faded. It had been a narrower thing than anyone watching would have guessed dodging all the other plasma bursts.
"I am impressed," Darkfire said, lowering himself until he was floating just a few inches above the ground. "You don't seem to be a normal human."
"Don't be fooled," the Weapon said, summoning a sneer. "We're all like this."
The Tamaranean narrowed his green eyes. "All the more reason to eliminate your planet once we are done with the Vega system."
Brand lifted a finger and wagged it at his opponent. "You'll have to beat me first."
"Simple enough," Darkfire said, and charged, dust rising in his wake as he flew forward.
The swordsman grinned, slipping to one side, hand rising to draw the T-sword. Darkfire's momentum worked against him, making it difficult for the Tamaranean to switch direction, giving Brand enough time to pull the weapon free and strike the young alien's midsection with enough force to slam Darkfire into the ground, splintering the stone beneath them. The Citadel's leader let out a grunt of pain as he crashed into the surface of the courtyard. Brand didn't hesitate. He lashed out with a drop kick, catching the younger man in the stomach, sending him sailing across the ground. The Weapon followed, feet flying across the broken stones, T-sword raised for another blow.
Again, he had underestimated the Tamaranean's powers of flight. Darkfire stopped himself with a thought, dropping one hand to the ground to use it as a pivot to kick the swordsman. It was a glancing blow, but Brand stumbled, surprised at the force of the kick. He rolled across the ground until his back hit a wall at one end of the courtyard. The white-haired head lifted in time to see the growing red glow of a starbolt heading his way.
Raven couldn't see Brand from where she stood, but his cry of pain was clearly audible through the speakers in the command center. Her shoulders tensed and her heart seemed to stop beating in her chest. Another cloud of dust had risen, and Darkfire floated into it confidently. There was a bloody flash from within the smoke, a pained grunt, and Brand flew free of the cloud as if thrown, trailing smoke, the T-sword still gripped in one hand.
The Weapon lay without moving for an endless moment, wisps of steam rising from his tattered jacket, before he slowly, painfully rose to his hands and knees, coughing on dust. Darkfire approached unhurriedly, his shadow stretching long across Brand in the morning light.
"Come on, dude," Beast Boy said from beside the sorceress, practically standing in the window. "Get up and take this guy down!"
Darkfire reached Brand, who was still struggling to stand. There was no more banter from either of the fighters. The pale Tamaranean simply drew back one foot and kicked hard. The gruesome snap echoed through the command center, and Brand let out an agonized groan between grit teeth, falling to his face as his left arm bent the wrong way. Oh, Azar, Raven thought, her mind flashing back to the Titans' medical scan of the Weapon; the dense, modified bones of the assassin... almost impossible to break. But whoever had enhanced Brand and his ilk had not taken alien strength into consideration.
"Oh, man!" the green changeling beside her gasped. "We've gotta' get out there or he'll be killed!"
Violet eyes closed. "We can't," she said firmly, the words sticking in her throat. "The minute we go out there, the challenge is void and the war starts again. We'd be wasting his sacrifice."
Beast Boy was livid. "So you're just going to let him die?!" He pressed closer, hands clenched into tight fists. "He's doing this for you, Raven!"
I know, she thought, setting her jaw, feeling the familiar guilt wash over her again. "Don't worry, Beast Boy," she said. "I'll help him... my way." The sorceress took a seat on the floor, crossing her legs and focusing her energy. "Azarath... Metrion...
Zinthos."
With the last syllable she floated free of her corporeal body and passed through the window of the command center as if it weren't there. She hovered for a moment, taking in the situation with new awareness. Raven finally noticed that Tamaran Base had been emptied. She saw Beast Boy kneeling next to her abandoned body, trying to wake her up. Raven shook her head mentally, then turned her focus downward to where Brand knelt on the broken stones of the devastated temple courtyard. Darkfire was speaking again, but without the benefits of the audio pickups, she couldn't make out the words.
The sorceress's spirit dived until it was in front of the Weapon. She hesitated, remembering the last time she had entered his mind, remembering the time she had entered Robin's mind. This was more similar to the latter than the former. Not an attempt to gather information or memories, but to fortify, to strengthen, to heal. She slipped into the swordsman's mind unnoticed.
He was on fire with pain, a flame the same color as Darkfire's starbolts. Raven gasped as it consumed her, trying to shield herself from the intensity, but even as she entered the Weapon's mindscape, the fire was dying, extinguished by a fierce determination. Over everything, a massive digital display hung like a gibbous moon, counting the seconds and the minutes, timing the battle. She felt the Weapon's resolve. She saw what he saw and knew what he knew. Ph'yzzon's plan to abandon the temple was made clear, and Darkfire's true identity was revealed to her. Raven mourned for her friend Starfire, that the brother she had longed to re-unite with was the very enemy that could destroy them all.
And behind all of this were the dark clouds of guilt in the swordsman's soul. The things that he had done, the blackest thoughts and memories. Foremost among them, Raven saw Brand's regret for trying to hurt her, how he hoped to find redemption... or punishment.
"Brand," she called.
Everything went white for a moment with the Weapon's shock. Walls and doors began to slam into place all around her, and she realized he was closing off all distractions, believing her voice to be a figment of his imagination. "Stop it, Brand, it's me," she said.
She sensed his hesitation and continued. "You've got to let me in, you've got to let me help you. Let me share your pain." She had expected him to welcome her, to allow her entry into his mind, but instead a blast of fear overwhelmed the sorceress. Nauseatingly familiar flashes assaulted her; a Citadel army falling apart on all sides, red eyes, a cruel smile, but the glimpses were gone as soon as they appeared, leaving Raven dizzy and confused.
"You've got to get out of here!" Brand shouted. The walls in his mind closed in around her, doors and windows closing and locking, keeping her at bay.
"Don't be an idiot!" she cried out in his mind, but it was too late. The force of his will pushed her free and out of his skin. Only seconds had passed. In a blink, Raven returned to her own body.
She inhaled deeply, as if sighing in reverse.
"Raven!" Beast Boy cried. "Are you all right? What happened?"
The sorceress bit her lip. Why did he push me away? She wondered. Her pale face turned to the changeling. "He won't let me help him," she said, her voice a rasp. "Brand is determined to finish this fight on his own."
Brand's arm felt as if had been dipped into a pool of lava, a pain more intense than any he could remember. It hung uselessly at his side as Darkfire lifted him by the collar. The T-sword had fallen from his nerveless fingers, rolling away across the uneven ground. The bitter taste of defeat filled his mouth, and his torso burned from the earlier starbolt. None of it compared to the sudden sense of desolation and isolation he felt after chasing that dream or vision of Raven away.
It's for the best, he thought. If it really was her, I can't take the chance the pain would overwhelm her again.
"All your talk, all your arrogance, and this is the best that you can give?" Darkfire asked, voice dripping with contempt. "Where is the power that defeated my army? Surrender, and show my troops who the true coward is."
Brand narrowed his pale blue eyes, lifting his one good hand and taking hold of the Tamaranean's armor,. He grinned brokenly and slammed his head into the pale young man's face. Darkfire screamed in pain and rage and let him go, stumbling backwards. The Weapon hit the ground like a sack of potatoes, the throbbing from his arm intensifying, the world going white around him. Blindly, he groped for the T-sword and found it.
Wracked with agony, the swordsman stood again, holding his weapon cross-wise in front of him. Darkfire pulled his hands away from the angry wound on his temple and glared at Brand, green eyes glowing with rage. "You should have just given up," the Tamaranean said.
"That would make it really easy for you, wouldn't it?" Brand responded, panting for breath. "If I just rolled over and let you beat me? Well too bad." He took one step forward, left arm still hanging limp, then another. "You're going to have put in the work, kid. You may win. You may kill me, but I'll make you fight for every centimeter." His voice had lowered to a hiss as he continued to advance.
There was something else other than rage in Darkfire's face now. Something like fear. Brand smirked, then darted forward, T-sword drawn over his shoulder.
Darkfire pulled back one fist and punched the Weapon before he could complete his attack, knuckles cracking against the swordsman's jaw. Brand went cartwheeling across the length of the courtyard, crashing into another stone wall, which crumbled on either side of him. The Tamaranean lifted off and extended both glowing hands to the center of the dust cloud. A massive starbolt fired from those limbs, blasting a crater into the courtyard.
Silence reigned. Even the watching Citadel troops had gone quiet.
The pale Tamaranean dropped to the ground and stepped to the lip of the crater, waiting for the smoke to clear. Something stirred in the ragged hole, and Darkfire recoiled. "Impossible!" Brand was still alive, twitching feebly, his one good arm reaching out to drag himself free from the rubble.
Teeth grinding in disbelief and superstitious fear, Darkfire extended his arm again, hand glowing crimson.
A/N: Commentary - I don't really have much to say about this chapter except that it's at this point I now realize one can't necessarily handle chapters the same way for fanfiction as one would in a novel. There's a big difference in a story where you can keep flipping to the next page, the next chapter, and one where you have to wait days or weeks before the next entry. Smaller, more limited chapters work in a book, but I'm not sure they work so well in fanfic. I seriously considered combining "Duel" with the next chapter, but this temporary accelerated posting schedule is the compromise.