She ran her fingers along the arm that spanned her chest as she opened her eyes, following the line of his arm up to his shoulder, then back down while her vision adjusted to the darkness. She could barely make out his handsome features, his slow breaths whispering across the top of her shoulder as she looked at him, close enough she could kiss his fine lips if she moved just a little.
Instead, she pried his arm away and swung her legs over the bed, her hand blindly searching for a flint on the nightstand out of habit before she remembered he didn't have one.
"Teldryn," she said gently, reaching back to pat his upper arm. He groaned noncommittally. "Give me a light."
He pressed his face into his pillow as he tossed a ball of light into the air. She got up, valiantly ignoring the haphazardly tucked edges of the sheets, and made for her clothing to change from her nightgown. Over the last couple of weeks, she'd given up trying to get the stubborn man to tuck the sheets the proper way since his only response was to tell her she was quite welcome to do it herself. Her hope that his technique would improve through repetition did not seem to be panning out. Yet.
Once dressed, she picked up her copy of the room key- Teldryn had Glover make one after a few days of having to get up and lock the door after her- and made her way to the bed. She let herself fall heavily onto her hands so that she was hovering over him, grinning as he scowled at the way the bed shook when she landed.
"See you in a bit," she said before pressing a kiss to his cheek then pushing off the bed with more force than necessary, noticing the slight twitch at the corner of his mouth before she turned away. Before she made it to the door the room went dark as he extinguished the light.
She tutted as she felt for the door handle. "Rude," she scolded before letting herself out.
The tide was low on the beach, the dull drone of the rolling waves interrupted by the occasional clang of steel on steel as he mimicked attacks for Vanya to counter. He was not moving anywhere near full speed and being careful as she lacked any armor, his intention to leave openings for her to retaliate so he could instruct her further.
Teldryn jabbed the blunted steel sword toward her midsection and she dodged to the side as she parried with her own, bringing the dulled point of the dagger in her other hand up to his exposed side, though she put no force behind it.
"Good," he said. "That can work well for armor like mine but for someone in steel you will want to aim higher." He lifted her wrist, aiming the dagger at his neck. "You may want to do that anyway. Opening the throat is effective regardless of armor."
She tugged her hand down with a grimace. "Gross," she said as she stepped away, getting back into position. He ran his tongue over his teeth in frustration, unsure how to address this recurring problem. Learning proper technique came easily for her, but it was evident that it was no more than that in her mind. Hitting only a ward or a training dummy would not teach her the reality of fighting another person.
He readied himself to begin again, studying her closely, her eyes focused and wary. He struck out with a feint to her left, twirling the sword away from hers as she twisted her body to block leaving her open for him to sweep the blade up across her belly, a move with which he'd opened up many a reaver. His blade was met with her dagger as she hopped away from his reach, already assuming a defensive position. He swelled with pride as he inched closer. Though he had taught her much, she had an intuition that was all her own. She needed only to hone it, to refine her movements; she would be exceptional.
That is, if he could break this pattern she had developed. The closer he got, the further she backed away, always trying to avoid countering his attacks in favor of getting out of reach. That kind of hesitance made the difference between life and death, and he'd told her that many times. A creeping discomfort began to take hold in him as they continued. It would take more than words to get through to her.
He stepped forward and crossed, not waiting to strike back after her parry, spinning into a back-swing after she parried again. Her eyes widened as she tried to block, fortunately choosing to duck as her sword was knocked down easily, though she still kept her grip. Had it been anyone but Vanya and this a sparring match he would have kicked them to the ground, but he was not looking to win. She had barely recovered when he struck again and she dodged clumsily.
"Teldryn! Wha-" her voice cut off as she brought up her sword to fend him off.
"Fight back," he commanded, pressing her steadily, keeping her moving.
"I can't!" she cried, side-stepping another attack.
"Just try." He was leaving her plenty of opportunities, if she would only take them.
She blocked a downstroke, the force of it causing her to stumble backward, losing her footing. She fell on her back, dropping her sword though she kept hold of her dagger. This was her chance.
He dove toward her and she raised her arms to cover her face as he plunged his sword into the ash beside her. On his knees over her he grasped the hand that held the dagger, revealing her astonished expression as he pressed the tip under his chin.
"This," he said sharply. "Kick at me as I fall on you, kick the sword arm, roll away, do something."
She only laid there, breathing heavily, her grip on the dagger loosening as she stared up at him, not with the anger he'd been trying to stir, but something far worse. Fear. It made him want to drive the dagger under his chin up to the hilt.
He dropped her hand and rolled away to sit next to her, squeezing his eyes shut as he rubbed his face. "Gods damn it, this isn't going to work."
What is his problem? His attack had escalated out of nowhere, his expression so severe she'd forgotten what to do. He was too fast. It seemed she had only blinked and she was on the ground under him. She dropped the dagger from her shaking hand and sat up, frowning at the sword he'd stabbed into the ground.
"What's not going to work?" she asked, a bit breathless.
He sighed heavily, the fingers of one hand massaging his eyes. "Whatever it is I'm trying to do."
"And what exactly is that, if you don't mind letting me in on it?" she said acidly, not appreciating the defeat in his voice. "I'm doing everything you tell me to do. Why are you getting so pissed?"
"Not everything," he replied as he got to his feet, turning to offer his hand. She took and he pulled her up as he continued, "How many times have I told you to commit to your attacks, Vanya? Your blades are blunted, I'm armored. This is all for naught if you won't follow through when it counts."
She tried to ignore the prick at the back of her eyes at his harsh tone. She was trying her best. She wanted to do it, to be strong, but it was hard.
He stepped back, gesturing to himself. "Don't think of me as me when you do it. You're fending off someone who means to harm you, to take advantage of you."
She shook her head, horrified. "I- I can't."
"You won't, you mean."
"Don't tell me what I mean," she spat.
"Fine," he said dismissively, raising a finger between them. "but I won't always be here and you must understand that you can look to no one but yourself for your safety. What are you willing to do to keep your life?"
She inhaled sharply, blinking back tears. Don't cry
"Don't you ever question what I would do to keep my life, Teldryn," she hissed shakily. Don't cry. "You don't know..." Her voice faltered as shameful tears slipped down her cheeks. "anything about what I've had to do."
"Vanya..." His anger was torn apart at the sight of her quivering lips, the tears that quickly ran over them prompting him to reach for her as she wiped her eyes with her sleeve. She came easily into his arms, folding against his chest. His guilt for making her cry overwhelmed him and he selfishly sought to comfort himself for his own stupidity as he held her. "Forgive me," he said into her hair.
She said nothing, not moving except for the occasional shuddering breath and he chided himself for being so thoughtless. He had wanted to provoke her, to make her want to hurt him but he knew she didn't work that way. There was a rage in her, he had seen it before, raw and primal; but to tap into it pained her such that she held it back. Whatever it would take to release it, he didn't want to do with his own hand. He couldn't.
He raised her chin up in his fingers and the plaintive look on her face was unacceptable to him. "I misspoke before," he said, wiping a stray tear from her cheek. "Think not what you would do to merely keep your life, that is beneath you." She knit her brow, the way her eyes searched his face rekindling his frustration. "You can stand above those who wish you harm," he pressed. "Defend your life, take theirs for daring to even look at you as though they deserve any privilege."
She pulled her chin from his hand, turning her head and he fought the urge to force her to face him again. Why did she not understand? He took a deep breath and pulled her tighter to himself, looking out over the discarded weapons. He would do it all for her if he could- gods, he would- but it was foolish to think he would always be near enough to do so. He had to make sure she could stand on her own.
"Khes'yi," he said, his foreign tongue causing her to look up at him again. "Don't give up. I am the one who is failing you." She started to shake her head but he insisted, "Don't deny it. I am the teacher here, if we're having a problem that is on me."
She swallowed and nodded, seeming to accept his statement and his relief turned to surprise when she proceeded to wipe her face with his cowl. He laughed, tilting his head back. "Do help yourself," he said as he looked down at her sheepish grin. "I only ask that you don't blow your nose."
She laughed then, the sound lightening his heart and he couldn't stop himself from planting kisses along the side of her face toward her ear, heading for the place he knew would draw a satisfying squeal.
"Ah!" she cried, flinching away as his lips tickled under her ear. "Quit that!" She wriggled from his grasp, stepping back and doing her best to glare at his smug face. A smug face that moments ago was so sincere, saying things to her that he knew nothing about. She turned away, heading for the weapons she'd dropped, the panic she'd felt at the time nearly forgotten, replaced with a slight dread over a word she did not recognize. A name, an endearment spoken with a tenderness she had known once before.
"What did that mean?" she asked as she slid the blunted dagger into the sheath on her waist. "What you called me?"
He yanked his sword from the ash, giving it a twirl as he smirked. "Khes'yi," he said, stepping toward her, reaching the point of the blade around her waist to nudge her closer, the flat of it sliding up her back until she was again pressed to him. "It means you are precious to me." Her breaths were shallow as he leaned in. "My jewel."
His kiss was soft and chaste, a contrast to the chitin plate against her chest and the steel against her back. She let her sword fall back to the ground, reaching up to clasp her arms around his neck and the blade that pinned her to him was replaced with his hands. It was a perilous path that she'd set them on, one which she could not see the end but each second in his embrace pushed the inevitable further from her mind. She didn't know where they were going, or what she was doing but she knew one thing for certain; she wanted to be what he saw, she wanted to be everything he wanted, she wanted to please him.
She dropped her arms and began searching for the straps of his waist plate. He caught her hands, breaking their kiss.
"Vanya, here?" he asked, sounding more surprised than hesitant and she licked her lips, freeing her hands to continue tugging at his armor.
"Afraid to be caught with your pants down?" She quirked her brow up at him as he stood still for a moment, beginning to understand her intention.
"Mephala," he swore as he grabbed her shoulders, pulling her over to a large boulder that shielded them from the path. He leaned his back against the rock, batting her hands away to make quick work of throwing off his waist plate. She laughed as she dropped to her knees, looking up at him as she waited for him to undo his breeches and he thought the breeze might be enough to make him come as he was revealed to her.
He had to close his eyes as her gentle fingers slid over his shaft, the sight of her parted lips nearing his head liable to make this a mournfully short encounter. He twitched as the warmth of her mouth enclosed him, sliding down until she had wetted his entire length and he wound a hand into her hair, calling upon a great amount of willpower to resist the urge to fuck her throat. She drew her lips back up, her hand following with a firm grip and she worked the two together, her explorative tongue drawing a groan from him. His head tipped back against the rock losing himself in the bliss of her wicked mouth, he felt her free hand hanging onto his armor, heard her breathing through her nose and when he dared to look down, she flicked her gaze up through her lashes pushing him over the edge as their eyes met. His hand tightened in her hair as he released a labored breath and she moaned, taking him in further as he thrust his seed into her mouth.
Still leaning against the boulder, he watched with near reverence as she got to her feet, wiping her mouth with her sleeve. When she looked at him with that peculiarly mischievous coy expression that only she could manage, he chuckled hoarsely, finally gaining the wherewithal to right his breeches and armor.
"I can honestly say I never know what to expect from you."
Her pink cheeks turned a shade darker as she turned to head back to the swords once again, saying, "Sometimes I feel the same way."
