"Raven, meet Sparrow. Sparrow, Raven. I'm sure my two best cadets will get along swimmingly. I've cleared next week of your schedule to facilitate this," he smiled, walking off. The two merely stared at each other for several minutes before Raven sighed, causing her to sneer at her.
"Would you like to go for a walk?"
"Can't be worse than what we're doing now," she shrugged, a wry smile one her lips. The two walked side by side in silence out of the compound, braving the distrustful glares of several other cadets as they entered the garden area, following the cobblestone path. Raven sighed. "Must you keep doing that?"
"You're not going to make this easy, are you, Sparrow?" he asked in bemusement. She shrugged.
"Did you expect me to just be your friend because you're White's pet?" she snorted. "Think again, lover boy."
"Have you read my mission profile?"
"And why would I bother? It's not like I'm given the same level of clearance you do, you know? You don't have to rub it-"
"Your records are most impressive," he complimented, causing her to stop short, her mouth opened and closed for several moments, yet no sound came out. "Sofia in particular, that shot was quite difficult."
"Thank you," she replied uneasily, clearly off kilter. The conversation lulled into a silence, neither uncomfortable nor uncomfortable as her face contorted, as though trying to squeeze out a more satisfactory response. None came.
"Your dance, it was also well articulated."
"Dance?"
"The Bolshoi Ballet. I was in attendance. Truly, you were the star of the show."
"Now I'm sure you're joking," she laughed lightly, before stopping at his slight frown.
"I'm perfectly serious. While the other dancers restrained themselves, you did not. Your movements were more free flowing and genuine. I believe the General was quite moved by your performance." At this, a pink hue coloured her cheeks, and she couldn't help a slight grin.
"Thank you, I appreciate it. Perhaps you would tell me more about yourself? I would hate to presume anything based on rumours."
"What would you like to know?"
"Well...everything," Sparrow blurted out before giggling at herself. "That sounds so silly, but...well...no one knows much about you, who just randomly shows up and becomes the most powerful cadet...well...where to even begin?"
"I...suppose General White. He found me during a trip to London, and I was inducted to the program. After passing the test, I undergone training, followed by the modification rituals at a double dose."
"A double dose!" she exclaimed in shock.
"Yes. I felt my body could handle it. I nearly didn't...but the results speak for themselves. For the second maturation, I took quadruple the standard dose, and for my third, I'm hoping for eight," Raven explained. Sparrow listened in unadulterated awe. "I suspect the only reason I survived was my induction, which caused a fracture in my magic and allowed it to absorb more. Think of it like a diffuser, absorbing excess magic and pumping it back into my body when needed."
"That's...insane. What on Earth did you go through in your maturation?"
"Kolyma," he answered in a tone that brokered no room for elaboration. She paled, nodded and quickly changed the subject.
"I suppose my time in Chechnya couldn't compare, and I thought that was tough." He looked at her curiously, as she shrugged. "I infiltrated a terrorist cell and gathered information. Wasn't difficult, a cute smile here, an innocent question there, I looked young enough even though they didn't think to try anything unsavoury."
"I hear the mountains are beautiful though."
"They are," she sighed wistfully. "I would stare out at them for hours."
"Perhaps you can take me there one day," Raven mused. Sparrow looked at him strangely, but didn't comment. "So much of the world to see, so many wonders to explore...I used to want to be an explorer. To conquer the seven seas, to travel to outer space, to go where no one has gone before…"
"You could still do that." Sparrow mused, looking equally entranced by the idea. "We must grow old together, see the world for all its, wonders, no?"
"That sounds lovely," Raven admitted softly. "Just you and me, without a care for the world."
He chuckled. "Is it not amusing? That so many lust for power, fame, wealth, when we would rather remain unknown, living in our own bubble?"
"I suppose so," Sparrow hummed. "What's it like? Being the best agent of White?"
"Boring," Raven shrugged. "It is no different, merely White sends me on far more missions. We eat the same food, train in the same facilities...do much of the same."
"I'm sensing a question."
"I'd like for you to teach me how to fight." She eyed him suspiciously.
"I've seen your scores. They're already impressive."
"But not exemplary, not like you. Battle flows through you, even now, I can sense it. I must condition myself constantly to be ready, to be alert, and yet for you it's so instinctual. I wish to learn to be like that."
"Well, let's spar then."
"Here?"
"Why not?" she challenged. He merely chuckled, getting into a ready stance. At her wag of the finger, he advanced forward, a bounce in his step as he committed several punches before adding a kick for good measure. She remained elusively out of a close enough range for him to do anything but land grazing shots, but straight after his kick pounced forward, hoisting his leg up with one arm and nearly knocking him off balance, before she twirled herself until her shoulder was next to his knees.
"If this were a real fight, you'd have lost the knee," she replied smugly, no doubt expecting a retort. Instead, he merely nodded thoughtfully.
"What did I do wrong?"
"Nothing per say," Sparrow assured as she released his leg. "Fights are a combination of many factors, some outside your control. Any victory is merely a combination of probabilities of a variety of factors at any given moment. You might have used a different set of movements, and I would equally have to adapt my own strategy."
"How did you know?" Raven queried, eyeing her with clear deference.
"Your feet were spread in a standard pose, and your first two attacks were in different planes, suggesting your attacks were meant to probe. After several punches, I expected a kick. The most logical one would be one targeting my upper body, given you wouldn't want to risk a sweep so early," she deduced. He found himself enthralled by the analysis, staring at her with such intensity she ducked her head, blushing. Shaking himself out of his stupor, he nodded.
"What would you have done in my position?"
"Honestly? Nothing different. Your moves were the most optimised for most general situations."
"So against specialists you'd need to vary it, I suppose," Raven proffered. She brightened, nodding excitedly.
"Precisely. You knew I was a corner case, which means that you should never open with a traditional attack. You need to get your mentality out of 'survive' to one of 'disable'. When you attack, you psychologically feel stronger, and you take more risk. Counterintuitively, when you defend, you feel weak, you panic, you make mistakes."
"And given our nature to be risk averse, the optimal would be what most consider risky," Raven mused. She merely stared at him confusedly and he explained, "Just some readings on statistics, forgive my rambling."
"No, go on. Your deductions make even the General impressed, I want to hear what you have to say," she insisted.
"The greater the skill disparity, the quicker you want to end a fight. As a fight progresses, the trend equalises such that a stronger opponent is more statistically likely to win. This is because both familiarise with each others' styles, have warmed up, environmental advantages are generally already used, and less external factors are likely to intervene," Raven postulated. "Thus against a weaker opponent, unless an external factor such as arriving enemy reinforcements or a mission deadline existed, it would make sense to attempt to make more conservative motions. Conversely, against a superior opponent, one would wish to act as erratic and take as many bold moves to end the conflict immediately as possible, the Trakata move for instance."
"You know of such an...exotic move?" Sparrow asked in mild surprise, and no small amount of respect. He nodded. "You realise that it's nearly impossible even with a specially designed weapon."
"Which makes any application of it all the more deadly," Raven countered. She considered the point before nodding in agreement. "Let us try again."
He raised his fists in preparation, a move she echoed. Charging forward for a tackle, he diverted last minute, instead leaping into the air and planting a kick onto her face. Following that up, he vaulted off the floor, slamming onto her as she tried to regain her footing, causing her to roll across the grass completely out of control. Not stopping, he closed the distance, throwing several kicks that she barely rolled out of the way of, though managed to clip his foot with a well timed jab, causing him to retreat slightly.
"Was that better?"
"Yes," she admitted. "You've been holding back on me."
"Just as you have. After the second kick, I know you could have recovered," Raven retorted, helping her up. "But admittedly I'm far more interested in learning how to shoot. I try to optimise all my movements, watch clips and save every movement, yet consistently fail to match your speed and grace."
"Ah, that would be due to my specialist training," she smirked before wincing slightly, causing him to rush to her side concernedly. She waved him off. "I'm fine, you just...kicked harder than I thought. Perhaps we can save that training for another time?"
"Of course, allow me." He placed a hand over her chest, causing her to pink slightly, though he concerned himself with channeling his magic, pumping into her. She gasped at the sensation, slightly painful, but too enthralled by the slight glow and his visage of concentration to stop him.
After several moments, Raven stopped, pulling back. "How does it feel now?"
"Th...the pain's gone," she mused impressed. "I didn't know you were well versed in healing magics."
"A very crude form," he admitted. "I basically pumped magic into you to speed up the healing process."
"You can do that?" she asked, fascinated.
"Magic is...think of it like electricity. Your body can produce so much at a time, and if you are experienced enough charge yourself from the ambience. When you exhaust your magic, such as using it to heal yourself, then your body slows its usage, and eventually shuts down. The general tenant of healing is to reduce the energy taken to do this, by slowing the injury or creating alternate channeling pathways for magic to enter."
"So you brute forced the process by simply pumping more magic?" Sparrow asked, quickly latching on to the idea. He nodded, pleased at this.
"Exactly. Alas, I am not proficient in much beyond combat magic," Raven sighed lamentfully. Sparrow eyed him speculatively, before prompting.
"So…"
"I hear a question," he returned, causing her to giggle.
"What would it take for you to teach me legilimency?"
"How about now?" he returned once again, causing her to sputter in disbelief.
"Just...just like that?"
"Of course," he smiled reassuringly, taking a seat on the grass and patting the spot in front of him. Eagerly, she took a seat cross legged, facing him. "Tell me what you know so far."
"Only the basics. I'm supposed to latch onto emotions and trace them back to the source."
"A crude but acceptable definition, one I disagree with," Raven admitted, causing Sparrow to frown. "If you'll forgive me, I have quite a...different view on legilimency and occlumency than most. If I'm to teach you this method, you will need to unlearn everything you've learnt. Otherwise, I can try the traditional method with you."
"No risk, no reward," she shrugged. "I respect you enough to trust your judgement."
"Then listen closely. Legilimency does not require one to latch onto emotions, but it is a shortcut. The mind is an abstract concept, and many are unable to reconcile abstraction with its finite and defined nature. Emotions lead to memories, which lead to thought, which lead to the mind."
"Thought and mind?"
"Later stages that most neglect. When you commit a legilimency strike, you need to know where to target. While emotions are an excellent guideway, it isn't always possible. There will be those able to control their emotions, and those who set false emotional blocks."
"You do it backwards?" she postulated. He nodded, pleased at her deduction. "How does that work?"
"That...is the difficult part. It isn't so much a list of things, but rather reconciling one's own abilities. Remember our discussion on brute force with magic? Potions and salves, think of them like emotions in this case, providing an alternate pathway and making it easier."
"Whereas to target the mind requires brute force? In the form of what?"
"Will. Are you aware of the ambience principle?"
"That magicals have a natural aura that unconsciously protects them."
"Sufficient for our purposes today. To perform a legilimency strike, one must possess a will to breach the mind in greater potency than the ambience of the target."
"Potency? Not power?" she queried after absorbing the statement. He nodded, pleased once again.
"Correct. Ambiences are by their nature very diluted. With sufficient precision exhibited by a seasoned legilimencer, a weaker attacker may overcome a stronger target's ambience," Raven lectured. "It is how General White is able to breach your minds despite not having undergone augmentation. By all accounts he is weaker in raw power than you, but through concentration and will he is able to breach your minds."
"Is this what you do? Target the mind then work backwards through thought, memory and emotion?" He nodded, causing her to let out an 'ah'. "Are there any disadvantages?"
"It takes...a lot of practice and a lot of will. To put it in context, the General himself failed to develop this technique." Sparrow's jaw dropped, causing him to shrug. "In his case, it can be attributed to his overuse of the traditional method, having acclimated his mind to using less concentration and will, but the point stands."
"Do you think I'm capable of learning this?"
"The honest answer or the one you wish to hear?" he smirked.
"If I wanted you to lie?"
"Then I would tell you that learning this technique will not be a challenge given your prodigious nature, and that you will reach heights I could never dream of," he deadpanned. She let out a snort.
"The honest one, then.."
"Given sufficient motivation, I believe it is possible over time to hone your development in this field. You are unlikely to reach the prowess I have, but given some of your natural talent and your track record, it would not be unthinkable," he answered.
"How did you learn it?"
"General White had me crucified out in the winter for three days for each attempt I failed. Needless to say I had ample motivation, combined with my natural talent. It still took over six weeks," he answered. She blanched at that, before chuckling uneasily.
"Let's...try the traditional method then," she laughed uneasily. He had a brief flash of disappointment before resigning himself to accept this. Recalling a memory of himself watching Sergei cannibalised alive, he removed his natural suppression and amplified the projection of this emotion.
"Feel, what emotion am I projecting?" he encouraged. She furrowed her brow in concentration for several minutes, before shrugging. He sighed, perhaps he had grown too used to suppressing his emotional projections. "It is fear...try and look...closer this time."
Taking her hand, he clasped it in his, willing his emotions to project outwards towards her rather than merely project in ambience. She let out a triumphant hum. "Good, Sparrow, good. You struggle for the next part, right. I'm going to tug you, just allow it to happen okay?"
She nodded, and he concentrated, slowly dragging her probe deeper into his mind, leading her on to the memory of Sergei. Sparrow was sucked into the body of Raven, underneath the bedframe, watching in horror as prisoners piled atop the man, the sound of pained screams and flesh being torn overshadowed only by the feelings of fear and disgust.
"W-w-wha…" she sputtered. He let out a sigh.
"My most...emotional memory," he admitted. "From my time in Kolyma."
"I'm...I'm so sorry," she flinched slightly at his sigh. Instead of an angry rebuke, he merely nodded, accepting the sentiment for what it was.
"Did you feel that? The flow of you almost drifting?" he inquired instead, wishing to move on.
"Was that a pathway?" she asked excitedly.
"Indeed. Normally, you would use the emotion to trace a pathway. Emotions are usually associated with memories, which are associated with thoughts. Following up the chain is more natural, making it easier. I'm going to push you out of my mind. I want you to try and follow the pathway back, okay?"
She nodded eagerly, and he ejected her probe from his mindscape, but not from his emotional projection, allowing her to reorient herself. She tugged at the strand experimentally, slowly struggling her way towards his mindscape, until she was once again next to him.
"I did it!" she exclaimed happily. He nodded, a proud smile. "Why is it so hard normally?"
"Because I amplified the strand to make it easier," he admitted, causing her to frown. "It is like teaching a toddler to walk before they run."
"Then why isn't this done in the normal training program?"
"Even amongst the proficient most aren't able to augment their mind and thoughts like that," Raven answered dryly. "For those that are, most focus on the potential it has on luring in enemies and trapping them rather than for training purposes. Try again, this time I'll amplify it less."
She nodded, allowing him to eject her from his mindscape. He observed as she tugged the strand, trying to trace it. Slowly but surely, she made her way back, and he gave her a pleased nod.
"That was good, Sparrow." They repeated it several hundred more times, until she was finally able to accomplish it without him amplifying the pathway. "That's enough for today, I think. Your mind is already nearing its limits, you need some rest."
"Yeah," she nodded reluctantly, feeling an impending headache beginning to form. "I...thanks for this...it means a lot."
"It was a pleasure. I find I do quite like teaching," he admitted, helping her up off the grass. The moon was already up, causing her to startle and him to chuckle at her reaction. "Time does fly, doesn't it."
"We'll see if you're so cheerful tomorrow," she smirked tiredly. "I'll be drilling you in combat techniques until you match and surpass me in ability. Mark my words, Raven."
"I look forward to it."
-Break-
A bang echoed in the gallery, followed by an alarmed shriek.
"What in Stalin's name are you doing?" Sparrow exclaimed, stomping her foot when Raven brushed off her hands from the blood pooling out of his abdomen. He fired another bullet into his knee, causing it to shatter. This one caused him to wince, and he quickly shifted his weight to his other leg, hobbling forward and raising his arm. There was a slight tremor to his aiming, and he furrowed, willing himself to still, concentrating, before firing a shot. It hit just a hair's breath away from the dead centre of the target. He fired another shot, and this one managed to hit it dead on.
Placing the pistol on the table and ignoring the blood dripping down, he grabbed a rifle on the rack. "Let's do the exercise again."
Reluctantly, she leaned down beside him, wrapping her arms around his, though she tried to suspend herself to prevent pressing down on him and exacerbating his wound.
"Breathe in," she whispered into his ear, holding him from behind. He obeyed, sucking in a breath as he raised the rifle. "Breathe out."
He exhaled. "Breathe in."
"And shoot."
He squeezed the trigger, causing a flash to erupt from the muzzle of the sniper as a single shot penetrated through the air, hitting the target dead center in the head. She loosened her grip on him, beckoning for Raven to stand. "That was good."
"What is the purpose of the exercise? We do it every time."
"To feel. Each weapon, much like an animal, has its quirks. Did you feel the weight?"
"Slightly heavier on the left."
"How much?" she challenged. He shrugged, causing her to frown. "Guess."
"Thirty grams?"
"Twenty eight," she corrected absentmindedly, taking the gun from his hands and placing it on the rack. "You have guts, I'll give you that."
"A beautiful woman pressed up against my back, who am I to say no?" he groused. She giggled, smacking him on the chest.
"You'd wish you were facing me, wouldn't you, perv," she bit back without heat. He leaned forward, as though about to kiss her, causing her breath to hitch, only to brush slightly on her lips before pulling back with a teasing smile. Her cheeks flushed, and she didn't meet his teasing gaze as she grabbed another rifle and handed it to him.
"Feel this one," she instructed. Taking the rifle in his hands, he frowned at the surprising lightness, lifting it up and aiming it down the shooting gallery. "Describe it."
"Airy, almost weightless for its size," he answered. She nodded.
"Carbon Fiber. Stolen tech from the British's labs. Lightweight but durable," she lectured. He nodded, assimilating the information.
"Undetectable by scanners?"
"Yes, but very expensive." She took the rifle from his hands, placing it delicately back into a cabinet before locking it. "That's enough for today, you've improved vastly."
"Still doesn't come to me as naturally as you," he mused, a hint of envy. She nodded amused, basking in it.
"I doubt it ever will. Similar to how I don't grasp the mind arts as instinctually as you. But the difference between a millimeter and five isn't worth investing far more time into."
"You're curious why I insist we continue on weapons training?" She nodded, and he pondered briefly, composing an answer. "When with an unfamiliar weapon, I want to be able to call on experience. To do that optimally, I need to know every last detail, every last scrap of information that might be the difference between superfluous and life saving. Here when I pick up a weapon, I have hours to determine its quirks. In a firefight? I might have a second or two before I must make a shot. I might be injured, distracted, or a bevy of other things. If I cannot perform to standard in these conditions, how can I do so in combat?"
"You shot yourself in the abdomen," she retorted, pointing towards the blood pooling slowly on his bodysuit. He shrugged, causing her to throw her hands up exasperatedly, pulling out a salve and applying it to his body. "You know, I used to be jealous of your abilities, but seeing what you put yourself...I think I'm good."
He merely chuckled. "You told me the exercise's purpose, did you not? Seems like I win the bet."
The curses she spewed could have made a sailor blush.
-Break-
The music played softly in the background as he twirled her before recapturing her with both arms, dipping down slightly.
Outside spin. Turning Lock. Hesitation Change. She looked up at him beaming.
Fallaway Reverse Turn. Double Reverse Spin. Contra Check. He leaned in close, as though about to kiss her, their breaths tickling each other's lips.
Chasse from Promenade. Natural Spin Turn. Weave from Promenade. She pressed tightly against him, squeezing her thighs together and generating friction between their crotches.
Turning Lock. Weave. Wing. Rather than face each other, their heads leaned on the other's shoulder, their chests pressed tightly against each other.
Progressive Chasse. Back lock. Contra Check. The music ended as they stared at each other, emotion thick in their eyes, both wishing the tune had continued playing, that the moment needn't have ended.
"That'll be enough for today, I think," instructor Tulard nodded at the two of them. Sensing the dismissal, the two quickly saluted the colonel before leaving the ballroom, their hands intertwined with each other. Continuing through the fortress' interior, they ignored the glares they received from the other cadets, instead heading towards the gardens, walking along the familiar cobblestone paths.
"That was…"
"Enjoyable," he proffered, causing her to look at him in shock before a grin split her face.
"The Raven admitting that he enjoyed something? Will the wonders ever cease?"
"You could always learn my method of the mind arts," he smiled benevolently, causing her to shudder, shaking her head 'no' vehemently. "A shame, well, if you ever change your mind, the offer is open. Many others would kill for such an opportunity."
"Considering that several guardians died trying to learn the technique from you...I'm good," she chuckled, resting her head on his shoulder, their hands wrapped around each other's waist. "Is it wrong that I wish this would never end?"
"I feel the same," he admitted with some hesitation, only relaxing at her bright smile, almost glowing once she heard that. "Is this what love is?"
"I...guess so?" she shrugged. "You're asking the wrong person."
"Well it can be our brand of love then," he mused, kissing her on the lips. She accepted it contently, letting out a squeal as he pulled her onto the grass, and they rolled around, playfully jostling to be on top.
Author Note:
So we finally meet the Sparrow herself! Will she win over the Raven beyond their current flirting and experimentation? To explain how their relationship developed: Raven starts off with a healthy respect for Sparrow; Sparrow knows of Raven and his exploits and is envious. When they first meet, she has an expectation of being looked down upon, yet is through off for a loop when he demonstrates respect for her abilities. That he is willing to train her in occlumency and show what she knows to be one of his most traumatic memories wins over her, you can tell that the first time she trains him in combat, she isn't giving it her best, which is why Raven becomes so aggressive an attacks her, to setup healing her with his magic. As is, the two have a healthy respect for each other and a tentative friendship that may blossom into something more. While they tease, they haven't magically fallen in love. The use of the term 'love' at the end by the two is very loose. Compared to the competitive, almost hostile relations between other cadets and guardians, theri relationship is misconstrued by both to equate to love, when this, in fact, is not the case yet. Next time on Harry Potter and the Raven:
A truck reversed out of the backstreet, causing a convoy of three vehicles to slam on the brakes, stopping. Raven launched a legilimency attack at the guards, lashing out and momentarily causing all six to clutch their heads in pain. Across the street, Sparrow yelled, "Go! Go! Go!"
Charging in with gun raised, she shot the first convoy guard who emerged from the car. Two of the team members following her carried a battering ram, rushing towards the car in the middle. Raven waited as several more guards emerged before yelling to his team, "Open fire."
His team, perched on one of the roofs across the street began raining down fire, dispatching most of the remaining guards. Sparrow's team pulled open the battered door of the car, grabbing a frightened man, knocking him unconscious with an elbow to the face, before dragging him off to a waiting escape vehicle.