Octavia blurts out suddenly.
"I want you to train me."
Lincoln turns to her, not at all surprised by her outburst. He had actually been expecting it after all that had happened that day. The camp had only just returned to full volume a while ago after they had all observed their moments of silence for their fallen comrades. Octavia sits looking into the fire, knees drawn to her chest. Her brother had trained her in swords a little bit as they were growing up but as he grew older and older and got busier and busier, he started to train her less and less.
"I need to learn how to fight."
Lincoln already knows what brought this on, but he asks anyways. He pushes her to be her best and he will always do so.
"Why do you want to fight?"
"Because I don't want to be weak anymore. I can't be weak anymore. Not after—all of this. Most of my childhood I was locked up by my father, weak and powerless and scared and I don't want to be scared anymore. Not of anyone or anything."
Lincoln bites into his piece of deer, hiding his smile. This was the Octavia he knew. A fighter, in heart and soul. And it was about time she realized it. He shrugs at her.
"Why not?"
"Again!"
Octavia groans aloud.
"Haven't we done this enough today?"
Lincoln twirls his sword in his hands and smiles at her.
"I thought you wanted me to train you?"
She murmurs under her breath what sounds like a curse and he smiles.
"Now do it again."
Octavia picks up her sword and crouches. They circle each other, each waiting for the right moment to strike. Octavia lets out a roar and charges at him. He lets out his arm at the last minute and knocks her to the ground. Octavia struggles to get up, but after having done this all day, her arms have turned to jelly. She collapses face first into the dirt. She can hear Lincoln twirling his sword in his hands when he says the dreaded words.
"Again."
Octavia wakes up with large bruises spotting on her skin. The dark, purple welts hurt as she pokes and prods at them, determining how serious they are. Her joints ache as she stretches, her shirt riding up, exposing her midriff. Lincoln is not in the tent and his bed spot is cold.
Lincoln is shouting commands at his warriors as they train against each other. They face off, swords clashing against each other. Finally the fight ends as the larger warrior barrels into the smaller one with a roar and Lincoln shouts for the fight to end. As the warriors disperse, Lincoln walks over to her.
"Good morning."
She smiles at his greeting and they make their way to breakfast. They are just sitting down to eat when a scout comes running into the camp. He stops where Lincoln and Octavia are sitting and Lincoln quickly stands.
"Report."
"Sir, troops are approaching the camp fast."
Lincoln shouts to the warriors and everyone all starts moving at once.
People are grabbing their weapons and running to their positions in the trees.
Octavia rushes away to grab her weapon and is just about to leave the camp when Lincoln stops her.
"Where do you think you are going?"
She scowls and attempts to move around him. He grabs her shoulder firmly, halting her.
"Octavia, you are not ready yet, you will be someday but today is not that day. You have only just begun your training. Patience, ok? Pack up as much of the camp as you can, we are leaving as soon as this is done."
Octavia folds her arms and glares at him as he lets her go and leaves the camp. She sulk for about an hour before she decides she might as well do something useful and starts to pack up the camp per Lincolns orders.
It is only as the sun is starting to set that they return. Bruised, bleeding, and battered, they stumble into camp, and as each person returns and there is still no sign of Lincoln, Octavia starts to panic. She has just started frantically running from person to person when she sees him. He is just as bruised and battered as the rest of them, but fortunately he is only bleeding a little bit from a scratch on his cheek. Octavia runs to him and when he sees her, he opens his arms wide and lifts her into the air in a desperate hug. She's crying she realizes numbly and she starts to babble to him.
"You didn't come back and I thought—I thought you were injured or dead and I—"
He shushes her.
"Shhh… hey, hey, it's fine, I'm fine, I just had to finish making a deal with their commander."
And as Octavia rests in his arms, clutching to him, she realizes something. That she can't live without him