A/N: Here's another chapter, rejoice! Ahem, thanks again to my wonderful betas and to everyone who reads this thing. This is the chapter before everything blows up, so enjoy the peace while you can.
Hours later, Ket felt like she had traveled to the ends of the earth and back again. They walked through hundreds of passageways, up staircase after staircase, and into a million rooms. She saw libraries full of thousands of books that took up the entire length of the walls, rooms full of busy scribes writing millions of letters ranging from new law proposals to invitations to the Midsummer ball coming up.
Her head swam from all the new stimuli and she wanted desperately to stop and rest. Lycass had other ideas. The old man showed no signs of tiring and kept pointing off the castle sites in a clipped tone, rushing past them before she had a chance to really see what he described.
Ket began to wonder if she should hit the guy over the head to stop him when a palace servant did the job for her. They were passing through the entrance into the Great Hall, watching servants decorate the walls with tapestries and lights in preparation for the upcoming gala.
A muffled curse gave them an instant's warning and both she and Lycass glanced up to find a large tool hurtling in their direction from above. Ket nimbly stepped out of the way. Lycass was slower and he could only stare up at the oncoming missile as it neared. With a loud CLUNK! the tool made contact with Lycass' bald head and he fell over backwards without a sound.
Ket and the tool owner, who had been hammering up a hanging above the doorway, leaned over the still man. "Is he dead?" asked Ket, glancing at the worried man.
"I don' think so," he said nervously. He waved his hand in front of Lycass' face, hoping for a response. "Great Goddesses, I can' believe I hit 'em o'er the head," the servant said, his face lined in fear.
"Actually, I thought it was a rather good shot," remarked Ket dryly.
The servant turned to her in surprise, his hazel eyes wide. The he smiled slightly and said, "I don' think Lycass here'd appreciate that."
"Neither do I," Ket said. She returned the man's smile, saying, "But I don't plan on telling him anytime soon."
"Aye, nor do I," said the servant, turning to face Lycass again.
"Why don't you go back to work," offered Ket. "I'll go look for a healer, or something, and bring them here."
"All right," said the servant. With a last glance at the prone figure on the ground, he gathered his scattered tools and left for the opposite end of the Hall, as far from Lycass' still body as possible.
Ket exited, intent on finding a place to sit before she went haring off for any healer. Lycass could wait; he was not bleeding and Ket did not feel inclined to be all that concerned over the cross old man right now.
She scanned the stone hall and spotted an empty room just off the Great Hall's entrance to the left. She entered and headed for one of the many plush, upholstered chairs that decorated the room. Their bright cheery colors added warmth and light to the gray stone and she sank into the soft cushions with a sigh of relief.
Stretching her legs out, she let her head fall onto the chair back and closed her eyes. Her head still swam from all that had happened today, and from all that had happened in the past few months since she first met Impa in Bevry's. Great Nayru, that seemed so long ago. Then she was a nobody, living without a purpose and having nothing to look forward to for the rest of her life. Granted, she was still a nobody, but at least now she had a chance to become something. And she did know how to ride now. At least she learned something from this twisted adventure, she thought with a slight grin.
She continued to digress when she felt a shadow fall over her face, blocking the sunlight pouring through the only window in the room. She cracked open a baleful eye and found herself face to face with a boy near her age. His violet eyes glared into hers and his red-gold hair, backlit from the sun, shone like gold tainted with blood. Great Goddesses, he's handsome, Ket thought wildly. Looks, however, are not to judge a person by, as Ket quickly found out.
"What are you doing here?" the boy asked rudely, his hands resting on her chair's armrests, leaning over and thrusting his face near hers.
"I was trying to rest," replied Ket caustically. "And if you would kindly move, I plan to continue to do so."
The boy's indigo eyes widened in shock. A deep scowl marred his features and he said hotly, "How dare you speak to me like that!"
"It's easy," Ket replied. "I open my mouth and the words come out."
"You uncouth wench!" he cried, leaning back from her at her words.
"Watch your own mouth, boy," growled Ket, sitting forward and drawing her legs back under her.
"How were you ever allowed inside the palace?" he marveled, an expression of pure disbelief on his face.
"By charm alone," retorted Ket, feeling her temper begin to rise.
"Obviously," he said with a snide smile. "You don't have anything else to offer."
That last remark snapped the already wire thin hold she had on her temper. After having to deal with first Ifrim, then Lycass, and now this rude jerk, her naturally short temper was incredibly combustible.
Exploding with incredible force, Ket sprang up, catching the boy off guard, and launched herself at him. With a cry, the boy fell under her furious assault. Using the skills she learned off the street, she quickly pinned the squirming boy under her, holding him down with her weight while resting her forearms over his throat. "Care to repeat that?" Ket said with a savage grin.
"I ought to have you hanged for this offense," spluttered the boy, his face turning red from the pressure of her arms on his neck.
"You and what army?"
"The Hylian Army," said a voice from behind her.
Startled, Ket glanced behind her and saw both Impa and Regius watching her. Behind them stood a group of noblemen, their expressions ranging from amusement to outright horror.
King Regius' face was unreadable, but Impa, that was a face Ket hoped to never see again. Her jaw was tight, her eyes full of disappointment. Ket quickly scrambled off the suddenly still figure of the boy. "Impa, I'm-," Ket began, but Impa cut her off with a quick jerk of her head.
Ket shut her mouth and glowered at the boy who slowly picked himself from the ground. When he stood on his feet, Regius said, "You two follow me."
He turned on his heel and left, Impa close behind, leaving the nobles to linger and gossip. Ket trailed after them, wondering what type of punishment she would receive for brawling in the castle. She could hear the boy behind her, his footsteps padding on the stone floor, but she ignored his presence and continued to worry about her fate.
Did they throw people in jail for fighting in the castle? She had been in fights before, but then it was in town with kids her own rank, not some highborn snot. Ket clenched her fists in remembrance of the boy and his attitude. Too bad they showed up when they did, she thought angrily. I shoulda' socked him when I had the chance.
Before she could go into further detail of how she planned repaying the boy, Regius and Impa left the hall and turned into a room. Ket followed them in, clasping her hands nervously behind her back. The boy stepped inside and Impa shut the door sharply behind them. She placed herself next to the exit, as if guarding against their leaving.
Ket gulped, then faced Regius, who had set himself in a chair. He perched on the furniture as if the chair was a golden throne and not a beaten piece of wood. The boy stood beside her, giving her a dark look before focusing on the King. Silence pervaded the room while they waited for one of the adults to move or speak.
Ket squeezed her hands tighter, fighting the urge to wipe her sweaty palms on her travel worn, tan tunic. If only someone would speak! Then this horrible tension would be broken and Ket could breathe without feeling like her chest was being squeezed by tight, iron bands.
Finally the King relented. "It seems the two of you need to be watched over with nurses," he commented dryly, his expression still unreadable. "I expect to be able to leave council meetings with the noblemen of the kingdom and not be disgraced by teenagers who cannot control themselves. I am very disappointed in both of you."
Ket winced at those words. She would rather the King yell, throw things, or strike at her. She could handle that, she was used to those displays of emotions. But this quiet regret the King showed hurt Ket more deeply then she imagined. He had treated her with courtesy and respect, much more than she deserved. In return she disgraced him in front of his entire Council. Ket wished desperately for the floor to open up and swallow her whole, anything to get her away from his disappointed gaze.
"Ket, I may not know you very well," began the King, focusing on her. "But from what Impa has told me, I expected better. Whatever brought on this quarrel, I am positive there are better ways of resolving the dispute without resorting to fighting."
Ket stared at the floor, unable to look the King in the eye. "I beg your pardon, majesty," Ket said, forcing her voice to work.
Regius nodded, then turned to the petulant boy beside her. "And as for you, young man. I know you were not raised by wolfos. Elias, what did you think you were doing?"
The boy, Elias, bowed his head and said, "I am sorry, father."
Ket choked and nearly fell over in astonishment. Father? This boy was King Regius' son? Of all the people in the palace, she had to pick a fight with a Prince. You sure are a brilliant one, she told herself bitterly. No wonder the Council looked so shocked and Impa so pissed. She tackled a member of the Royal Family.
Looking at the two, she felt like an idiot for not realizing it in the first place. The Prince matched his father's coloring exactly. Both had violet eyes and red-gold hair, though the Prince's face was more oval then his father's, and less refined by age.
"Well, at least you know each other," Regius said, leaning back in his chair. "We do not need to bother with formal introductions."
"Is there anything else you need to say?" asked Elias, a carefully neutral expression on his face.
"As a matter of fact, yes," Regius said with a slight scowl.
Here's where I'm punished, thought Ket with resignation. I wonder where I'll be banished to?
"In light of this recent incident, I have a wonderful idea on solving a few problems that have arisen." The King looked at Impa and said, "The solution to the problem you spoke of before is easily remedied."
"How so, your Majesty?" queried Impa from her post at the door.
"If you wish to educate Ket," he began, nodding in the puzzled blonde girl's direction, "Then I suggest she study with Elias' tutor."
Huh? Educate her? What was Impa talking to the King about? And why hadn't she bothered to ask if Ket wanted any of this? If it meant being around the brat prince, Impa could count her out.
Ket opened her mouth to protest when she caught a glimpse of Impa's face and quickly shut it again. Maybe once the woman had a chance to calm down, then she could broach the subject again, and inform Impa politely that she'd rather kiss a pig then put up with Elias.
"What other problems are you referring to?" asked Elias, a suspicious expression clouding his features.
"The one of your martial training," said Regius. "Impa and I both agree that besides book learning, you should strengthen your fighting skills."
"I already know how to use a bow and sword," protested Elias.
"But not very well," interjected Impa. "At least not with the sword. And the King is not only the people's leader, he is also the commander of his army. He should know how to devise tactics and utilize them correctly."
Elias began to protest again, when the King said, "The matter is decided. You will study with Impa on how to fight. She is the best teacher in the land and you would do well to heed her advice."
"Yes father," Elias muttered darkly, glaring fiercely at the ground.
Impa walked from her spot and faced both of them. Pointing at Ket, she said, "You will also train with Elias and myself."
Ket knew better than to disagree and mutely nodded her head. Joy, she thought sourly. Another opportunity to see His Royal Pain-In-The-Butt.
"I think that covers everything," Regius said, rising gracefully from his seat. He gripped Elias' shoulder and led him to the door saying, "Once we have everything set up with your tutors, we will begin your new schedule."
Impa looked down at Ket while the two left the room. Once they were gone she said, "So, what do you have to say for yourself?"
"I'm sorry for embarrassing you," Ket mumbled, staring at an enthralling tile between Impa's boots.
"What in all the Sacred Realm possessed you to attack the Crown Prince?" Impa asked incredulously. "Did you take leave of your senses?"
"I wouldn't have done anything if he wasn't such a pompous, arrogant, rude, jerk," burst Ket, glaring up at Impa.
"Indeed," asked Impa archly. "You'll have to learn to control your temper because you'll be seeing a lot more of the 'rude jerk' in the future."
"Unfortunately," grumbled Ket. Remembering a question she wanted to ask, Ket said, "Impa, why are you going to teach me?"
"Because mental and physical education are precious tools that everyone needs."
"But that's assuming I'm staying," Ket said.
"And are you?"
"Not if I have to put up with Prince Snot Head, I'm not."
Impa sighed in exasperation. "I'm sure once you get to know him, you'll get along great. He really is a sweet boy."
Ket stared at her in disbelief. "Right, and I'm going to touch the Triforce someday."
"Do you really wish to leave?"
Heaving a great sigh, Ket muttered, "No. I'll stay. 'Snot like I've got anything better to do. At least in physical training I can legally pound his thick skull in the ground."
"That's the spirit," Impa said jovially. "Now let's find you a room. By the way, whatever happened to Lycass?"
"Um, he said he was feeling tired and needed to take a nap. I'm sure he'll be up and about, hopefully..."
Over the next few weeks, Ket began her training under Cadveal, Elias' tutor. She studied hard under his kind tutelage and even enjoyed the work, so long as Elias kept his rude comments to himself.
Besides her learning duties, she also helped the servants' with their tasks around the palace, which in Ket's opinion, was a very fair trade. She could roam most of the castle on her own and ate three meals a day.
For once in her life she did not have to worry constantly about the next meal or where she her next bed would be. She could get used to this very quickly, she thought one day, heaping another helping of mashed potatoes on her plate. She had just finished her morning scholarly classes and would begin her martial training for the first time today.
They had been put off until now because of a rash of attacks that broke out on the Gerudo border. The King had sent Impa out to deal with the problem a week ago and the Hylian woman had just returned yesterday.
Ket felt a twinge of nervousness as she sat her plate down on the mess hall table and began to eat. Although she had a little bit of fighting experience, she knew she still had plenty to learn. She did not want to make an even greater fool of herself then she already had.
She still struggled to forget her first day of learning under Cadveal. The portly, earth colored man had an infinite amount of patience and understanding; he was not the problem. The trouble was Elias.
When he found out Ket could not read or write (she had never had anyone who could teach her) he called her ignorant for the rest of the day. Not only that, he talked to her like she was stupid and unable to comprehend his words. She came very close to decking him again. Only Cadveal's calming presence prevented her from screaming at the top of her lungs and causing the young prince bodily harm. Today would be her chance at redemption. If she showed-up Elias, she could die happy.
After finishing her lunch, she pelted to her room, anxious to finish the work she received for assignments by Cadveal. Once her lessons with Impa finished, she had to help with the last of the preparations for the approaching Mid-Summer Ball. She would not have any other time to work on her studies if she did not finish them now.
Following an empty corridor, she traveled its length until reaching a rickety spiral staircase. Instead of climbing up, she stepped under the fixture and pulled open a door that blended in seamlessly with the wall.
Behind the door wound another hallway lit with more candles than torches. An occasional window let in sunlight as she walked to her room. She glanced out one window, peering through cloudy glass.
A bright azure sky met her gaze. Looking down, she studied the ground. Most of the out buildings of the castle were surrounded by people gathering for the feast that was a month away. Ket watched the tops of their heads for another moment before setting off again.
Not far from the window, she turned left and entered her room. The small, sparsely furnished room had a bed tucked against the wall farthest from the door, a wardrobe that hulked in front of where she stood, and an opening in the wall to her right that led to a privy.
A brilliantly colored tapestry covered the floor and caught the sun's rays that shone through the window, lending warmth and cheer to the cold stone surroundings. A small piece of heaven on loan for Ket, who was used to straw for bedding and a leaky roof.
With a contented sigh, she flopped onto the soft mattress, relishing the feel of the cotton blankets against her skin. I could easily get used to this, Ket thought happily. She wanted to lounge there forever, relaxing on the warm coverlets, but her studies called. Reluctantly she rose from her sprawl and headed for the pile of books and papers she left stacked on the floor near her wardrobe. Picking a comfortable bit of rug, she sat down and spread her work out, beginning her struggles through Cadveal's assignments.
She was in the middle of deciphering the child's book about the joys of farm animals, when a knock on her door interrupted her. "Come in," she called from her spot on the floor, glaring at the impossible book. Try as she might, she could not put the blasted words into sentences that made sense.
Her door cracked open and a terse voice clipped out, "Impa says to get your butt out to the guard training grounds."
Ket scowled at the sound of the familiar voice. She ignored Elias' words and rose, leaving her work on the floor. She'd have to finish it later.
Throwing open her door in the vain hope that she would catch him in the face, she swept past him with all the dignity she could muster. "Don't expect me to inform you on where you're supposed to be," hissed Elias as he caught up with her. "I'm not your servant."
Ket focused on the end of the hall and tried to tune the boy's annoying voice out. Too much was at stake for her to get thrown out on account of murdering one obnoxious prince.
"I wonder if you'll be any better at sword play than writing," Elias said snidely. "I should hope so, you need something to provide a living for you. Heavens know you'll never get married. I mean what man would want you?"
"Why should I need a man?" asked Ket in a voice full of deadly calm, eyes still straight ahead. "If he's anything like you, I'd as soon as pitch him into the depths of Lake Hylia before I let him come near me."
"If you were able to find your way to Lake Hylia. You need to read signs to get there, and oh, what a shame, you can't."
"At least I don't act like an arrogant prig," shot Ket, her pretense of calm in tatters.
Elias' eyes narrowed at her words. "You still have no manners. Maybe I can beat some into you today."
Ket felt a feral grin stretch across her face. "I dare you to try," she challenged. "You won't have a chance, I'll be too busy chasing you around the ring."
"We'll see," said Elias as they exited the castle and entered the brilliant noon light.
Once in the castle courtyard, they left the crowded area and crossed the drawbridge. Turning left, they followed a beaten path over a hill and entered the guards' barracks and training grounds. The low-slung buildings surrounded a large bare patch of earth bordered by low white fences. Benches sat around the ring and guards of all ranks and ages practiced combat on the dusty ground.
Ket spotted Impa's shining, silver hair and headed to where she stood in a far corner of the ring. Men peppered greetings to the prince as they walked past, who returned them with a smile and a wave. Ket wondered if these men, who were willing to give their lives for this boy, knew what a brat he was. Would they still be eager to defend him if they knew? Ket highly doubted it.
Impa smiled warmly when they approached her. "My prize pupils," she said, her arms spread open wide. "Ready to begin studying the art of fighting?"
"So long as I can knock him upside the head," said Ket, jerking a thumb at Elias, "Then I'm all for it."
Impa and Elias scowled at her at the same time. "We are not here because of personal vendettas," snapped Impa. "That had better be clear."
"Yes ma'am," they chorused in unison, glaring at each other.
"All right. Today I'm going to show you a wide variety of skills to see which one you're more suited to. That doesn't mean you have to be wonderful at each task I ask you to do, I just want to see which style is more natural for you. Always play to your strengths."
Motioning to a stand of targets that stood behind her, Impa said, "We'll start with the bow and go from there. Elias, you first."
Elias complied, taking the already strung longbow in his hands. A set of arrows, embedded point down in the dirt, waited by the line he was to fire from. Grasping one of the missiles, he nocked it and drew the string back. Aiming, he let go of the sturdy cord and the arrow flew to the target, embedding itself in the dead center of the red circle that blazed from the middle.
"Very good," said Impa. "Continue with the rest of them, then Ket it'll be your turn."
A flash of nervousness gripped her. I better not make a fool of myself, please Goddesses, she pleaded silently.
Elias calmly finished off his set of arrows, all of which now resided in the bull's-eye, and handed the bow to Ket with a smug smile. "Good luck," he said. "You'll need it."
Ket only frowned at him, refusing to return his jibe. Following Impa's instructions, she pulled out the arrows from the target and returned to the line in the ground.
Embedding the arrows in the dirt again, she left one free and copied Elias. Nocking the arrow, she stood with her left shoulder to the target and drew the string to her chin.
Letting out a shuddering breath, she sited along the arrow, trying to line the point of the metal tip with the red bulls-eye. Releasing the string, she watched in dismay as the feathered shaft of wood flew high over the target and into the copse of trees beyond. Silently cursing her poor aim, she prepared to shot again. Nine more times she shot and of those nine attempts, only one actually hit the target. The rest now resided in the woods beyond, food to some ravenous beaver or squirrel.
Sighing, Ket handed Impa the bow and left to retrieve her lone arrow. When she returned, Impa patted the girl heartily on the back, almost knocking her over, and said, "You just need to practice, you can't be perfect at something you've never tried before."
"Better start now," Elias remarked. "You'll need to practice for a loooong time."
Ket glowered at him and prepared to fire off a scathing reply when Impa broke in saying, "Now let's try something else."
They continued like that, trying everything from quarterstaffs, to daggers, to hand-to-hand combat. The only thing Ket succeeded in accomplishing during the brief scuffles was ripping her tunic from Elias' over zealousness with a dagger.
"Well, we've one last thing to try," Impa said.
Thank the Goddesses, the humiliation's almost over, Ket rejoiced silently.
Stepping to the side of the ring, she picked up two objects from their resting place on the bench. On closer inspection, Ket realized with dread that Impa held a pair of broadswords. How in great Din's name am I going to use that? I'm going to skewer myself with my great skill, she thought in exasperation.
"Elias, you should already know most of the basics in fencing so I'll spar with you," Impa said, tossing the boy one of the gleaming steel weapons.
Ket stood off to the side and watched the pair square off. From the beginning it was obvious Impa greatly outclassed the boy. She used the sword like an extension of her arm, letting her movements flow together like running water.
Elias chopped at her, his technique tense and sorely lacking. No wonder they wanted to continue his training, Ket thought with scorn. A baby could get past his defense in a heartbeat.
Once Elias began to tire, his already sloppy technique becoming steadily worse, Impa halted the training. Motioning for Ket to step forward, the girl complied. Elias passed her and handed the sword over with a grin. "Let's see how you do," he said, his grin growing wider.
Ket only returned the smile and said, "Anything I do has got to be better than what I saw."
Elias smile never wavered. "We'll see."
"Are we starting or not?" called Impa, ready to begin.
Ket broke her stare down with Elias and strode over to the waiting warrior. "This is your first time with a sword right?" Impa asked.
"Yes," answered Ket, trying to ignore the growing touch of fear.
Impa sensed her apprehension and said, "Don't worry, we're not attempting anything complicated. I just want to see how you handle the sword."
"Can't be any worse then how I handle the other weapons,' Ket muttered bringing a smile to Impa's face.
"You just need practice," consoled the older woman. "I spent most of my life learning the blade. Hellfires, I'm still learning. Now why don't you swing the sword around a bit; get used to the weight."
Ket sighed deeply but complied. Grasping the cracked leather hilt in her hand, she twirled the weapon idly. For some strange reason holding the sword felt right, not like when she had grasped the hefty, awkward quarterstaff or the feather-light daggers. The sword seemed to belong there, as if her hand had waited all her life for this moment. On a whim she brought the sword through a complex series of swings, cutting low, thrusting forward, then spinning around to slash through her imagined opponent. She ended up in a guard position with her blade ready to lash out again.
A grin broke over her face. Something woke deep within her and filled her with the desire to learn more. Is this what Impa meant about feeling one with her weapon? When the warrior told her that while on their way to the Castle from Lexandri, she had thought her a bit touched in the head. Now she fully understood what she had meant. The blade was not a weapon, separate from her body. It was an extension, a part of her arm that had been missing all her life.
She practiced a few more moves before facing Impa, ready to begin. The woman's chestnut eyes watched her closely, a shuttered expression on her face. Elias, from his position on the bench, looked like he refused to believe what he saw.
Puzzled, Ket held the sword at her side and waited for Impa to speak. An eternity stretched out as Impa continued to study her. Ket's nerves screamed from the sudden rise of tension in her body. Had she done something wrong? Why was Impa acting like this? At last Impa moved, bringing her sword up to guard. "I thought you said you never used a sword before," Impa said, her face still unreadable.
"I haven't."
"I see," replied Impa, sounding as if she did not fully believe her.
A surge of frustration shot through her. Why didn't she trust her word? She had never even touched a sword before this moment. Weapons like this didn't fall into the hands of the poor.
"Let's see how you fare against me," said Impa, breaking Ket from her thoughts.
"What?" Ket squeaked. Impa was going to attack her? She thought that Impa planned to teach her a drill or something, not come at her to spar. This is nuts! How am I supposed to defend myself against her?
She better think of something fast because Impa rushed at her, blade held high and ready to strike. A wave of fear broke over Ket, leaving a metallic taste in her mouth, and she clumsily ducked out of the way as Impa swung the sword in a downward arc. Continuing to duck Impa's blows, she forced her mind to begin working. Her anxiety began to leave her as she studied Impa's movements, trying to discern a pattern. It was not long before she found it. Attack, slash, back up to regroup; Impa continued the same pattern repeatedly.
Ket wondered if the fighter did it on purpose to get a response from Ket other than to scramble out of the way. Inhaling deeply during one of Impa's regroup periods, Ket made up her mind. She was going to stop running around like a coward and fight. When Impa came at her again this time she held her ground. Gripping the sword's hilt in both hands, she spread her feet out, deepening her stance to allow herself freedom for quick movement. Seeing Impa bring her sword down in another downward strike, she raised her blade above her head, blocking the blow and feeling her arms shudder in response. Disengaging, Ket stepped to the right and allowed Impa's weight to carry her forward, opening her up to a horizontal swipe from Ket's sword.
Impa quickly deciphered her plan and brought her sword down to block, the ring of clashing steel echoing across the dusty arena. Ket jumped back, preparing for Impa's next attack. Impa refused to be baited. Instead she waited patiently, her weight balanced evenly on the balls of her feet, sword held lightly in front of her.
Anxious to renew the fight, Ket rushed forward. At the last second, she swerved to Impa's left and spun around, bringing the glittering sword in a deadly arc to Impa's exposed side. With an expert flip, Impa skirted the danger, and returned the attack, feinting right and then thrusting to the left.
By sheer luck and instinct, Ket brought her blade to the side, barely stopping the steel from biting into her ribs. Impa forced her weight on her blade, inching the steel closer to Ket's vulnerable skin.
Looking into Impa's eyes, Ket froze. The chestnut eyes that normally sparkled with humor and mischief stared fiercely into Ket's, resembling the eyes of a stranger. She had seen Impa like this only once, when she had first met her in Bevry's Tavern and Impa had faced down Jethren, the Dalitian guard, for her.
The thought that Impa now gazed at her with the same expression she used on her enemy filled Ket with a deep sadness. Proving her sword skills was not worth losing the first true friendship she ever had.
A shudder racked her body as Impa pressed harder on their interlocked swords. Now if Ket released her hold, Impa would not be able to stop the steel from tasting her soft skin. But if Ket continued to resist, Impa would still regard her as a foe, not a friend. Inhaling deeply, Ket let her arm go limp and drop to her side, the blade falling and coming to rest against her thigh. Letting out a yell, Impa stumbled forward, her sword rushing eagerly forward to touch Ket's unguarded rib cage.
By sheer agility and luck, Impa twisted to the side so that she missed striking her with the sword and dropped onto Ket, knocking both to the ground from the force of the impact. Her breath was forced from her lungs with a whoosh, and she lay there on the dusty ground, her chest heaving for oxygen that refused to flow in.
Finally, when she began to see spots before her eyes, her lungs tried once more and sweet air filled them. Gasping, Ket drew in more, grateful that she could breathe. Propping herself up on her elbows, she glanced up to find Impa standing above her, a displeased expression marring her features.
Ket struggled to her feet as Impa watched, not bothering to help her up. Aware that tan dirt now covered both of them from head to toe, she faced Impa, cringing inwardly. Great Din, she could melt iron with that face, Ket thought anxiously.
"Why did you give up?" Impa asked curtly, crossing her arms over her chest.
I'm going to sound like an idiot if I tell her truthfully. Well, when in doubt, lie. "I got tired," Ket fibbed, hoping to appease Impa's wrath. I don't understand, she thought in wonder. First she's mad that I can hold a sword, then she's angry that I can't.
"Don't lie to me," she spat. "You gave up like a coward and I want to know why."
Her words bit into Ket's heart deeper than any sword could. I'm a coward? Because I didn't want to fight? Anger welled up, tensing Ket's body and causing her to clench her fists. The sword's hilt left deep impressions in her hand. "I didn't want you to look at me like that," Ket said through clenched teeth. "If that makes me a coward, then so be it! I don't give a damn."
Whatever Impa expected as a reply, that wasn't it. "What do you mean, 'look at you like that'?"
"Your eyes, they were empty, like a stranger's. That was the look you gave the Dalitian soldiers." Ket felt her control waver as tears burned in her eyes. Ducking her head, she fiercely willed them away and said quietly, "I never want you to look at me like that again."
"That's why?"
Impa sounded incredulous. Ket kept her head down and nodded. When a pair of arms surged around her, she thought wildly for a moment that Impa wanted to strangle her.
She did, in a way. Caught in Impa's strong embrace, Ket flailed about, trying to breathe. "You idiot child," Impa said, hugging the girl close. "If you're going to stop every time someone looks at you cross-eyed, you're in trouble."
"Not everyone," Ket said defensively, her voice muffled as she spoke into Impa's chest. "Just you."
Impa finally relinquished her hold, and stepped back. Her eyes shimmered brightly in the sunlight. "You don't know how happy that makes me."
Now thoroughly confused, Ket said, "I thought you were mad at me."
"I was, until you said that."
Ket frowned. "Why?"
Setting her sword point first into the ground, Impa rested her weight on the cross-guard and said, "I thought you gave up because you were tired or too scared. I knew you had more backbone than that, so it angered me that you weren't using your full potential."
"My full potential?"
"Yes. You handle the sword better than some fully trained guards. You've got an immense amount of natural talent. We'll have to step up your training."
Step up her training? Oh, wonderful, Ket thought dryly. "On one condition," Ket said.
"What's that?"
"I spar someone else, anyone so long as it's not you."
A smile lit Impa's face. "It's a deal."