A/N: I actually started this chapter a few weeks ago, but never got back to it. I meant to finish and post it before the current list of pairings. Anyway, I finally got it finished tonight, so here it is!
Alinta's sleep in the Unseelie was often short and fitful. She couldn't afford to sleep for long, or she would risk being caught off guard. It didn't help when all that awaited her in her nightmares was the image of her village burning to the ground, the screams echoing eerily loud in her ears.
Her light sleep that night was interrupted by some subtle sounds disturbing the peace of the night. Quiet whispers and carefully placed footsteps. She reached under her pillow for a knife, clutching the hilt of it. They couldn't catch her by surprise or unprepared in any way – not when she was always on alert. As they got closer, she sprung to her feet before they could grab her, turning to face them and backing away to keep some distance between them. The knife glinted in her hand, and she kept it held out in front of her. She quickly recognised two of Saxon's group, before he appeared himself, behind them, looking amused.
"Did we wake you?" he said, in a mock apology. "Whoops, how unfortunate."
Her gaze flickered to the bed near hers, but the boy there didn't move. He was keeping still and silent so that he wouldn't be made a target. She hadn't expected anything else.
"There's no need to be so defensive – Darius just wanted to have a little fun with you. It won't take long. Then you can… go back to sleep." Saxon watched her reaction, as if he enjoyed wondering what it might be.
She was careful to keep her expression still, not wanting to give him the satisfaction. "No," she said firmly. Her voice felt strange from disuse, as if it had forgotten how to produce sound. "That won't be happening. Don't come near me," she said, brandishing the knife in a way that it would be visible.
Saxon merely laughed at the knife, shaking his head. "That doesn't scare us. Don't struggle and we'll make this easier for you. You're sorely outnumbered."
He gave a flick of his hand, and the other two faeries started forwards, moving around the bed to fetch her. She was light on her feet, ducking away from one of their arms as he reached for her, and slicing out with her knife until she felt it meet flesh. He hissed, although the other faerie was quick to go for her instead, thrusting out with his own knife. It only grazed her arm as she ducked away quickly enough to avoid anything worse. She was about to reach out with her knife again, before one of them kicked out at her knees, unbalancing her, while the other managed to grab her wrist. She struggled, trying to get her wrist free, but his grip was like iron as he pried the knife away with his other hand. The other faerie was quick to grab a hold of her as well, and they forced her to her knees at Saxon's urging.
Saxon walked over to stand in front of her, looking down at her. "Why do you make things so hard for yourself?" he asked, raising an eyebrow. "When you could just cooperate?"
"Why are you such a coward?" she retorted, the words flying out of her mouth before she could stop them. There was venom practically dripping from them, as she stared daggers at him. "Always having your friends do the dirty work. I challenge you to a duel, in the arena. Unless you're too scared to fight me?"
She could see his annoyance at her words at the set of his jaw, but after a moment, he laughed. "You want to fight me?" he asked, incredulously. "You haven't even finished your training, so of course you'll lose. That's a death sentence, and you're asking for it."
Dismissing his words, she raised her chin. She wouldn't let him take all of her pride away. While she had yet to finish all of her formal training, she had passed most things with flying colours. She'd been called a natural, even, and recruited for further espionage training. "I'm asking for it all the same. So, what will it be?"
There was silence in the air as they awaited Saxon's response. He could hardly turn down such a challenge, and she knew that. Finally, he spoke. "Right, I'll fight you in the morning, then. Enjoy what little sleep you have left."
Her fingers had been clutched tight against a second hidden knife at her side, but they relaxed when she was released. Her gaze followed him as she rose to her feet, her heart hammering in her chest. "I'll see you then," was all she replied, and she didn't move from her spot for a long time, until she was sure that they'd left.
Tucking her knives away, she sat back on her bed, although she didn't try to lay down again. The boy on the bed beside finally rolled over to look at her. "What're you doing, Ali?" Flynn asked in the common tongue in case anyone overheard, sounding hesitant. "He's older and stronger than you. You know it's a stupid idea."
She swallowed, carefully avoiding looking at him. "I can't stand bullies. I need to make him think twice, in the future."
It was easy to hear the doubt in his voice. Such fights were often to the death. "That's if there is a future for you, after this."
She was silent, turning away. Even if everyone underestimated her, she didn't underestimate herself. She'd picked up plenty of skills in the Unseelie and she'd learnt from the best. She'd spent nearly every hour learning how to win a fight and how to play dirty, if needed.
He would not have such an easy fight on his hands.
ooOoo
Alinta was silent as she made her way to the Unseelie fighting arena. She liked to prepare herself mentally before a fight. Such fights were not always about physical strength after all – if one was smart, then they could go in with a plan. It helped to think that she could beat many Unseelie if she outsmarted them.
It did not help however, being faced with Flynn's obvious doubt beside her. "He's bigger and stronger than you, so you'll have to be careful," he said, a little dejectedly. "You don't want to get too close to him."
She could hear the sound of faeries gathered in the distance, the chatter easy to pick up with her faerie hearing. "Maybe," he continued. "If you surrender then he might spare you," he mused aloud, before blanching as he reconsidered. "I mean, it's a possibility, right?"
"Flynn," she said finally, with a deep breath. "Just be quiet for a bit, please. I need to focus."
"Sorry," he said, giving her a guilty look. "I just don't want to lose my roommate." It was an almost amusing thought – as if they had a proper room.
"You won't," she said, keeping her tone purposely confident, for him. He was the closest thing she had to a friend in the Unseelie. He had often been bullied as well, because of his meekness and the fact that he would roll over when asked to. But some had soon grown tired of going after him, considering his lacklustre response, and how easy he was. Besides, she looked out for him, so they had to go through her first. It was the closest thing that she would get to having a sibling, she imagined. "You can't get rid of me that easily."
He gave a quick tentative smile, which she returned quickly – albeit more confidently - before she turned away, leaving him with the spectators as she headed down to make her way to the battle ground. Some of Saxon's group booed her as she pushed through the entrance, but she ignored it, instead repeating a mantra in her head. I will not die today.
Seeing Saxon at the other end, her heart sank. He'd already drawn his sword, which glinted in the light. She didn't have a sword herself, only having some half-decent knives that she managed to procure over her time there. One needed to either steal or win them to earn them, and she'd done a bit of both. Still, while she could use a sword, it was heavy for her to hold for long periods, and neither did she own one anyway. He'd have a much longer reach than she would, but she supposed that she shouldn't have expected it to be a fair fight, anyway.
Inhaling quickly, she gave a nod when a fight overseer asked if she was ready.
Saxon flashed her a grin. "Hope you made the most of the time you had left," he taunted, watching her as he readied himself.
She ignored the taunt, getting herself into a fighting stance and drawing two of her knives. One was a shorter throwing knife, while the other was a bit longer, which at least gave her some reach.
I will not die today.
Despite the fast beating of her heart, she raised her voice to call out to him. "Good thing all your friends are here to see you lose," she said, keeping her expression undaunted. "I don't mind an audience witnessing such a thing."
She'd wanted to work him up, and it was easily done, watching his expression twist in anger. The more emotional an opponent was, she'd found, the more likely they'd stuff up. "In your dreams," he spat. "There's no way someone like you would beat someone like me."
As the fight began, she took some quick steps backwards as he started to charge at her with his sword. She'd been expecting his quick movement, after the insult she'd thrown at him. While him getting closer wasn't ideal in a lot of ways, she hoped that he would be sloppier when he was seeing red.
Adjusting her grip on her knife, she sent a quick prayer to the angels, before she aimed and let the knife loose, watching as it spun towards him. It hit him right where she'd been aiming, in the sword arm. The sword fell from his hand as he cried out in pain, clutching his shoulder. Good, she'd hit the joint right where she'd been aiming to. Disarming him early was her only hope.
As she reached for another throwing knife, he bent down to pick the sword up, this time holding the hilt in his left hand. Many Unseelie were ambidextrous thanks to their rigorous training, but she was counting on him to be weaker in his left hand. One could only hope. She could tell he was in agony, as he didn't dare to move his right shoulder.
Still, he was still closer than before and she didn't have much more room to back up, when he charged again. She had only a moment to throw the second knife, but he battered it away this time with his blade, before thrusting out at her with his sword. She only narrowly avoided his blade, ducking to the side and feeling the end of the arena not far behind her. She couldn't allow herself to get trapped, quickly continuing to the side. He advanced after her with a quick laugh, even if his expression still looked pained. "I've got you now. There's no point in running."
He swung for her neck, but she ducked, grateful that she had speed on her side, and that he couldn't use his dominant hand. With her own blade, she slashed out, at his ribs and he made a quick grunt, but it seemed that whatever armour he was wearing at his chest helped to protect him. Of course he would have something of the sort, she thought, sighing inwardly. It wasn't like she'd been able to get anything decent herself, besides some lighter, old leather to wear.
She'd stalled for too long when her attack didn't work, trying to figure out his armour, and he followed up with a cut to her arm. She cried out as his sword cut into her upper right arm, along the direction of the bone, hearing the crowd yell out in excitement.
She pulled herself away from the blade, blood dripping from her arm from the cut at an alarming rate. But she didn't have time to wrap it, as he aimed again. She hadn't been expecting it when he didn't hit her with the blade this time, feigning a slice, before instead knocking the pommel of the sword against her head. She saw stars for a moment, trying to hold onto her consciousness as she fell to the ground. Falling unconscious would guarantee her death.
She curled up into a ball as he kicked her, the leather doing little to stop the blunt force and she felt the air knocked from her. He kicked her again and again and she fought to stay conscious. The pain in her arm was pure agony, but she was used to pain by now, having a high tolerance after all of her mistreatment. That was one thing the Unseelie had taught her early on – how to manage pain. She was good at compartmentalising things, pushing it to the side as she tried to concentrate.
Finally, she let herself relax, no longer curled up as she tried to keep her breaths as subtle as possible. Her eyes were closed, but she listened carefully, in case of the sound of a blade. If he thought her dead, would he stop? She needed to try for any advantage she could get, and she was willing to play dead if she had to.
I will not die today.
"So pathetic," Saxon spat, kicking her once more for good measure, and she resisted the urge to recoil. "Didn't even put up much of a fight."
She could almost hear him grinning as he looked back at the crowd, riling them up as they called for her blood.
Slowly but surely, she reached for another hidden blade, although this one was a little smaller. Still, it would be big enough for what she needed. He may have armour that protected some parts of him, but there was one part that was never well protected, and was rather vulnerable.
As she heard him bend down to reach for her, she rolled to the side, sitting up as quickly as she could manage. He let out a sound of surprise as she grabbed one of his wings in one hand, before plunging the blade of the knife into it. As she pulled the knife downwards, he screamed, and she didn't stop, even as she watched the blade cut through the translucent membrane, and through golden veins, blood starting to colour her blade.
He elbowed her hard in her side, but she ignored it, concentrating on his wings. She'd heard that for some it was the worst pain imaginable, having your wings injured, because of how sensitive they could be. It seemed like a rather large target to her, if that was the case, which it seemed it was. How silly they were to not protect them better.
"Do you yield?" she hissed, keeping the pressure there. She didn't enjoy killing, and even if he'd gone there with the intention of killing her, she didn't plan on doing the same. She only hoped it would pay off – that he would see her as a bigger threat and leave her alone.
"You-…" He cursed at her in the Unseelie tongue, using a word that she knew to be rather derogatory as he grabbed at her injured arm with his left hand, pressing into it and drawing out another staggered cry from her. "We might both be hurting," she said, from between gritted teeth, "But I'm used to the pain. Are you?"
She dragged the knife down further. "Do you yield?" she urged again. She would make a mess of his wing if he didn't, despite how sick the sight of it made her feel.
"Saxon," someone from the side called out urgently. "If you stop now, the healers should be able to mend your wing. It's not worth it."
"Fine," he spat out finally after seemingly debating his options for a moment longer, releasing her arm. She kept the knife where it was as she started to rise to her feet – in case he had any ideas - before finally drawing it back and quickly taking steps backwards to keep her distance from him.
"You'll pay for this," he promised her, murder in his gaze as he rose to his own feet. The cut in his wing was evident, as the blood dripped from it, and a healer was quick to come to his aid.
No one came to help her, not that she'd been expecting it. She tore off a strip of her sleeve, wrapping it around her arm to stem some of the bleeding. The ground was slick with their blood, and she stepped around it, as she walked out of the arena, feeling many gazes on her. She could use a little bit of healing magic on it soon, but she wanted to wait until she was in a safer place.
Flynn came to her side after a moment, glancing at her worriedly. "Ali… are you okay?"
She heaved a sigh of relief, as she gained distance from the arena and the sounds of the crowd. "I'll live," she said simply. Her ribs were bruised – in fact, she was sure she was covered in bruises from where she'd been kicked, and she had to work at staying conscious, starting to lean heavily against him to keep herself upright. Her arm would be left with a scar, but she felt some satisfaction at the fact that his wing would be left with a scar as well. Perhaps he would think twice about taking her on again.
She'd come to learn that violence was all the Unseelie understood, and it was a language that she was quickly becoming fluent in.
Dear Connor,
I'm sorry for leaving your place so abruptly the other day. I just needed some time to process things. I'm sorry if I made you uncomfortable as well - I have obviously misread things and sometimes I let my feelings get away with me. Just because I feel something, it doesn't mean the other person feels the same. It's embarrassing more than anything, and I'm sorry.
Your friendship is important to me, and I wouldn't want to lose that. You mean so much to me and I appreciate having someone I can talk with so easily. Someone who knows me better than anyone else. I certainly can't bear to lose that, so hopefully I haven't messed anything up. And if I have, then please tell me if there's something I can do to fix it.
I hope that we can catch up again soon in Alicante when you're free. I also hope that everything is going well with your work.
Anyway, you know how to contact me, and I really hope you reach out sometime.
I'll wait to hear from you,
Steff