Chapter 20: Willows are Weak

"Honestly, I can't leave you alone for a second!" Leppria hissed, arms crossed and foot tapping irritably as she stood over Lion-O, the bump on his head still throbbing. "What kind of idiot loses the Sword of Omens?!"

"I didn't lose it!" the other cat barked, standing up and meeting the leopard's fierce scowl with his own. "I know exactly where it is, I just need to win it back!"

"Oh yeah? How?"

Lion-O paused, having to look away from the small she-cat's glare as he tried to think of an answer. His original plan of forging a sword himself had fallen through, evident by the hunk of bent metal on the floor, already too cool to work with anymore, but lucky for Lion-O, another solution was currently murdering him in her mind.

"About that, you were the blacksmith's apprentice in Thundera…" he said, looking at her expectantly.

Leppria sighed through her nose, uncrossing her arms and squinting at her king's empty scabbard. "I can't just pull a sword out of thin air… one to beat the Sword of Omens would take three straight days at least."

It wasn't a no, which made Lion-O smile. He grabbed her arms, lifting her slightly and catching her by surprise, verdant eyes blinking owlishly.

"I know you can do it," he said, turning and setting her back on her feet beside the furnace, the coals inside still hot.

The attention made her blush, Leppria quickly turning away from him to avoid eye contact, but she was interrupted before she could reply to his ridiculous request that she was absolutely about to agree to.

"You don't give up easily, do you?" The Drifter hummed, both cats having forgotten he was there. He sighed and walked over to stand beside Leppria, giving her back an encouraging pat. "You can't make a sword to beat the Duelist alone, let me help."

Leppria didn't know what the long-eared man could possibly do to help, but the confident look Lion-O gave her was hard to argue with. He obviously trusted the Drifter, so she had to as well. She still pointed her finger at the taller cat, slightly prideful at his small flinch.

"You'd better know what you're doing, Lion-O." she growled.

The Drifter didn't give him the opportunity to reply, quickly pushing him out of the forge, Snarf following with concerned little chortles. "Well then," he said, donning a pair of leather gloves. "Let's get started, shall we?"

Having started an hour after midday, Leppria scratched her nose as shadows from the setting sun stretched across the floor of the forge, the hot coals and embers from the strike of the hammer becoming the only light until the sun rose again, her fingers stained with soot as she accidently smeared a black mark on her nose.

The Drifter had been hammering at the hot iron for hours, every so often stopping so the leopard could stick it back in the hot coals until the cooled metal glowed again. When she placed it back on the anvil, the hammer fell and the process repeated again. It was a familiar process that wasn't nearly as complex or satisfying as working with tech, but the discipline of the hammering and passage of time was actually rather relaxing. Or rather, as relaxing as things could be when the relic of the entire Thundercat race was being gambled.

With a single nod, the Drifter stopped hammering and Leppria leaned over to dip the stretched iron into the water. Steam and the smell of metal flooded the forge, Leppria's welding goggles fogging up in the process.

Bringing the newly forged blade out of the water, she laid it more gently on the anvil, the Drifter inspecting it and nodding approvingly.

"You know what you're doing, I'll give you that." He said, turning towards the sharpening wheel.

The leopard leaned close to the blade, running a single claw over it and checking to make sure it was evenly balanced throughout, not noticing Lion-O swagger his way into the forge, his head almost nestled into her shoulder as he tried to figure out what she was doing.

She flipped her goggles up, an outline of soot beneath her eyes, and measured the blade with a strip of tape.

"You must be working hard," the lion mused.

Leppria almost ignored him, but knew he'd just stand there until she answered. "Been up all night."

The Drifter took the blade from her, instructing the cat to keep the wheel turning as he began to sharpen it into a point.

"Is it done yet?" he asked, watching the sparks from the wheel scatter on the ground.

The long-eared man sighed, "No."

Another day passed, and Lion-O coughed as he woke to Snarf sleeping curled up on his face. Moving the kittypet, he perked his ears to the forge behind him, hearing no more hammering or the grind of the sharpening wheel and deciding to take another look.

Poking his head in, and spotting Leppria using a bow-like saw to carve the shape of the pommel and guard.

"I can't believe you're still at it," he mused, "Must be almost ready."

"Almost." She replied dismissively, brow twitching in building annoyance.

The lion's hopeful smile falling into an impatient frown, leaving the forge again and trying to pass the grating stretch of time by doing push-ups and teasing Snarf with a willow reed. It was fun to watch his eyes dart back and forth before pouncing and failing to catch it for a while, but even that became boring as he waited.

On the third day, his boredom got the best of him as he entered the forge, not saying anything at first as he went straight for Leppria.

She was bringing the blade towards her and pushing it away from her back and forth on a sharpening stone, every so often slicking the stone with oil before starting again. Across the room, the Drifter was cutting leather to wrap the pommel with.

Lion-O watched her practiced movements, leaning over her shoulder to get a better look. He wanted to see the exact sharpness of the blade though, so he tried to lean closer, failing to notice her ears flicking wildly.

"How much longer?" he asked.

Leppria, suddenly breaking under the pressure of his constant hovering, slammed the blade onto the desk.

She grabbed Lion-O by the back of his tunic and shoved him out of the forge.

"Get out!" she hissed, slamming the door in his face.

Once the sun rose over the swordsmith town a fourth time, Lion-O awoke to the forge door opening and Leppria coming out with a sword in her hands. There were bags under her eyes and she was glaring, but she held the blade delicately like it was an irreplaceable treasure.

In a way, it was. It was the sword that would win him back the Sword of Omens.

"It is done." The Drifter said. "That is, if you still want it."

Lion-O took the blade from his companion, watching the sun trickle down the curved blade like water, the balance of it perfectly shaped to his arm down to the tips of his fingers.

"It's perfect." He replied, purring as he gave it a test swing. "He doesn't stand a chance."

Meeting his own gaze in the reflection of the blade, Lion-O was pulled away when the Drifter chimed in. "Lion-O," he said, "A strong sword doesn't make you strong, remember, willows are weak…"

"Yet they bind other wood," the lion interrupted, dismissing his advice as he sheathed the sword on his belt. "I know, I know."

He gave them both a nod, Leppria crossing her arms and giving him a nasty exhausted scowl. "Just make sure you don't lose the Sword of Omens again after you get it back."

"Oh yee of little faith." Lion-O smirked, but the leopardess wasn't so amused.

Her glare seemed to burn harder, the redhead's smirk slipping into a nervous smile as he gulped. While he was confident in the sword the Drifter and the blacksmith made, it still itched the back of his neck thinking about possibly failing and having Leppria's full wrath set upon him.

The tired she-cat seemed to notice this and sighed, "I do have faith in you… so go get your sword back so I can get back to my tech already!" she hissed, too tired to pretend to be venomous.

Lion-O smiled, silently promising to make the last couple of days up to her somehow, maybe tell her about Leo's memory of the Armor of Omens to thank her for staying awake for two days straight and then another three just to help him fix his mistake.

Setting off to find the Duelist, with a new sense of restored pride, Lion-O would bring back the Sword of Omens.

Whatever it took.

The Duelist was clearly riding the high of his latest conquest, sitting in a tavern drinking his fill as an entourage formed to watch him slice lemons with the flick of his wrist. Lion-O found him as he used one of his stolen swords to throw a lemon half into someone's drink, the other half barely leaving the tip of the blade before the cat sliced it into fourths.

Lion-O smirked, "You might recognize the craftsmanship." He said, holding the golden katana up for the Duelist to see.

His eyes narrowed, "Impossible, it's a fake." Though he laughed, his blood red gaze was still undressing the blade, like he wasn't entirely sure of his own confident declaration yet. "He hasn't made a sword in years."

"I came out of retirement." The Drifter proclaimed, the tavern folk all turning to the long-eared man as he and Leppria stood at the entrance. "Although I admit it's not an original, I had some help from an apprentice."

The leopard smirked, pride buzzing through her.

Pointing the tip of the blade at the Duelist, using it to force him to turn his head up towards Lion-O, almost identical to the move he'd used against the cat when he took the Sword of Omens. "I challenge you to a rematch, this time for all your swords!"

"That's quite a request from someone who only has a single blade to offer in return," the Duelist pushed the blade away with his fingers, refusing to flinch as the blade nicked his fingertips. Rubbing the droplet of blood between his forefinger and thumb, he licked the drop away, smirking as the taste of iron danced across his tongue. "In addition to your blade, you must also put up your life."

Lion-O's eyes narrowed, a storm brewing in those Thunderan blue depths.

"Deal."

Leppria visibly winced, biting her tongue to stop herself from declaring her king a fool. She didn't want to believe he was falling for the Duelist's goading again and playing into his hands, despite it looking that way, but she had to have faith in him. She had to believe he knew what he was doing.

Even if he'd just agreed to plunge a blade into his belly if he lost to the Duelist a second time.

The Duelist apparently didn't get challenged to rematches often, as everyone in town seemed to flock towards the promise of a repetition of Lion-O's humiliation. The addition of the legendary sword maker Hatanzou in the cat's corner definitely got the public's attention as well, everyone wanting to see how the fight would play out.

Would the Duelist defend his title and take another sword? Or would his reign finally come to an end?

The two fighters drew their blades,

Lion-O once again making the first move as he lunged for the Duelist. His crimson eyes narrowed with amusement as he side-stepped the lion, the Sword of Hatanzou meeting Leppria's blade with a clang. The blades remained connected as each side pushed against the other, until the Duelist stepped back and swiped across Lion-O's neck, attempting to cut him down.

The Thundercat barely managed to dodge, ducking and kicking his leg out, sweeping his opponent's stance but failing and rolling away just in time to jump to his feet and lift his sword to meet the Duelist's kiss of steel.

He was grinning, but sweat speckled his brow and his hand shook with strain as Lion-O's strength pushed against him.

"You can't beat me!" he said.

Lion-O smirked, "Then why do you look so scared?"

With a snarl, the Duelist began jabbing at breakneck speed, Lion-O whipping his head back and forth just to avoid being cut. Sweeping his two blades into an x-shaped slash, he smirked as the cat walked right into his trap, using his katana to block but finding himself locked in place by the Duelist's X.

He pushed against him, trying to force the lion to his knees, but Lion-O tried to pull free, only for the Duelist to grin madly as he undid the X, the sudden force enough to snap the blade in two.

The severed edge fell uselessly into the dirt, the crowd roaring as Lion-O stared silently at his broken sword.

"The sword is lost, and victory is still mine." The Duelist grinned, stalking towards the cat.

Fear built in his stomach as his back touched the wall, the remains of Leppria's blade still gripped tight in his hand.

"Willows are weak, Lion-O!" the Drifter called out.

Lion-O's eyes widened, staring down at the broken sword in his hand, how white his knuckles had turned as he tensely held his stance. He'd been trying to hard to force himself to be stronger than the Duelist, trying harder and meeting force with more force when he'd been defeated.

But he couldn't defeat a hammer with another hammer, maybe he just needed to make him miss the nail.

When the Duelist finally lunged for him again, he moved, the Sword of Hatanzou missing by inches. No longer having to worry about striking against him, Lion-O calmly evaded each of the Duelist's jabs and swipes, his feet moving against the sand and his body weaving between the blades like a dance.

"I understand now," he said, having moved behind the Duelist. The red-eyed swordsman growled, beginning to swing his swords wildly and without elegance as he had done before. Lion-O breathed out, "Power alone is rigid, but if you can bend with the wind, you'll never break!"

His easy movements and the Duelist's flailing provided him with the perfect opening, jamming the broken edge of his sword against his opponent's hand and ripping it from his grip. He also used the remaining sharp point to cut his scabbard of stolen swords free, clattering against the ground as their captor lost his source of strength and prestige.

The Duelist stared, dumbstruck, as he finally knew defeat from a broken sword.

The crowd was silent, seeming to comprehend what it was their eyes were seeing. When they finally realized that the Duelist had been dethroned, they erupted into thunderous cheers and applause, the villain lowering his head in shame.

Lion-O left him, finding the Drifter and Leppria with matching prideful grins. "You both knew that sword would break," he stated.

The Drifter simply shrugged, "It took years to make the Sword of Hatanzou, your friend here made that piece of junk in three measly days!" he nudged the cat's chest, "You already had what you needed to win, in here."

Lion-O smiled, unaware of the Duelist behind him growling as he pulled a knife from his boot, charging at the cats who had undone him.

The Drifter frowned, moving behind the two cats and using the reed he kept tucked between his lips to block the coward's strike. The willow reed wrapped around the blade, ripping it from his grip and knocking him to the ground in a humiliating cloud of dust.

"You've had your last battle, now get out of here!" he commanded, the former swordsman running off with his tail between his legs, leaving behind the swords he'd cultivated.

The lion and the leopardess smiled at each other, savoring their victory.

It was fitting they say goodbye to the Drifter where they'd met him, the wind billowing his long ears as they stood at the entrance of town.

"Thank you, for everything." Lion-O told him, the Sword of Omens now tucked safely in the gauntlet on his hip where it belonged.

"No, thank you." He replied, adjusting the straps to the scabbard containing all of the Duelist's swords, or rather, former swords. "I haven't felt this alive in years, I finally have a purpose again; returning these swords to their rightful owners."

"Best of luck, Drifter." Leppria said, body drooping with fatigue.

"I'll be sure to sniff you out, should I ever need an assistant again someday, piece of junk or not, that sword was mighty fine work."

They waved as he left the swordsman town behind, Snarf even meowing goodbye as he slipped into the horizon.

Leppria reached for their packs when she tripped, her head swimming with exhaustion as she struggled to get back to her feet.

"Whoa," Lion-O said, steadying her. "Guess staying awake for five days takes a toll… here, let me."

The freckled cat suddenly felt the ground disappear as her king picked her up from under her arms, placing her on his back with his hands beneath her legs, Leppria automatically wrapping her arms around his neck.

"What are you doing?" she asked, too tired to really fight him off.

"We won't get far with you passing out every few steps, it's easier this way." He explained, smiling as he picked up their packs and let Snarf walk freely beside them.

She didn't argue, but her cheeks burned with embarrassment as her eyes fell closed. "It's weird for the king to carry someone else around,"

"I feel fine." He shrugged.

Leppria's brow scrunched but she let him continue to carry her, sleepiness creeping up on her as she let her head fall into the crook between his shoulders. She'd almost fallen completely asleep when Lion-O chose to tease her one last time before she slipped away completely.

"I can't believe you gave me a fragile sword like that," he mused, no malice in his jab.

The freckled cat adjusted herself in his arms, not bothering to open her eyes. "Swords are only as good as those who wield them, I knew you'd beat the Duelist no matter what I gave you…"

He didn't get to continue to the conversation as soft snores began brushing against his neck, Leppria now completely unconscious. She'd probably sleep for the rest of their journey back, and honestly, Lion-O wouldn't be surprised if she slept longer.

Snarf meowed curiously, Lion-O giving the kittypet a smile as he continued on with the girl on his back.

The Thundertank came into view along with Panthro and Tygra, still absorbed in attaching the Book of Omens to the navigator by the looks of it.

"What in the name of Thundera took you two so blasted long?!" the General demanded, a line of grease smeared across his forehead.

Lion-O blinked, plenty of supplies to speak of but Leppria still asleep on his back. "We were just… uh…"

"Off enjoying the sunset while we do all the hard work!" his brother growled.

He ran his hand through his mane, laughing nervously, "Something like that."

All the while Leppria slept peacefully, finally taking that break everyone had insisted on.

This is the shipping fuel I've been dying to write! But still, I shouldn't get my hopes up, as Lion-O and Leppria are still just friends and will be for a while, but I'll still include cute scenes and chapters like this one! When I say slow, you say burn, slow...! Anyway... Ciao!