Fae Hunt Chapter 10
Another short one I think, but worth it
Jon Quillian belongs to @marginmaster87
Bard's Note: Thank you to @theshapeshifter100!!
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Jon was already outside in the training field. It was dark now, the moon shining through the gaps in the trees and torches dotted around. It was warm and humid, which wasn’t ideal, but still, those would be the conditions inside the forest.
“You good to go, Jon?!” she called across to him. She should probably stretch a little if she was honest.
“As I’ll ever be!” he called back.
“Alright!” Ivy walked over to the training field, rolling her neck and shaking off her arms.
She took position on one side of the field, tossing the spear from one hand to the other before going into a ready stance.
Jon attempted his own stance, but it was a little loose. Ivy couldn’t help but notice.
“Sort your feet out, you’re too close.”
“Oh,” he spread them out a little. “Like this?”
“That’s it, if your feet are too close together you can be more easily unbalanced.”
“Ah, alright. Thanks. So how do we start?”
“How about…?” Ivy shot forward with a jab from her spear. She found that she quite liked the range on it. She half expected her magic to poke out, but it still seemed to recognise a sparring match.
“Holy-” Jon leapt back in surprise, barely blocking the strike with his sword.
“On your toes, soldier!” Ivy admonished, but only to tease - especially as she missed with the next strike.
“On your toes yourself!” Jon couldn’t come up with a retort quickly enough, but swung at Ivy’s legs. She danced away and lightly poked Jon in the side.
“How familiar are you with a sword?” she asked.
“I’m better at wrestling,” he admitted. “I almost beat Gus when I met him,” his next strike missed, and Ivy’s retaliation grazed his ribs before moving away.
“Then why did you make one?” she’d at least had some experience with a spear! And it was easy to make.
“I had some informal training three years after the attack. I was like, ten, though. I thought I would remember more of it.”
Jon’s eyes focused and he managed to swing in a nice arc close to Ivy’s shoulder. Her block missed, and she mentally cursed, partially because she hadn’t needed to waste energy blocking in the first place.
“And you didn’t think to ask for practice to make sure, in the five days it took to get here?”
Jon paused in place, considering. “Well, when you put it like that…”
His next jab had him stumbling over his feet, nearly falling over as Ivy narrowly dodged.
“What are we going to do with you?” she shook her head in that kind of adult way that was really annoying to any student. She then reached up behind Jon and bopped him on the head with the blunt end of the spear while he was recovering.
“What you’re going to do is put up with me. Otherwise I’m sending Beck after you,” his next jab was much better, using the momentum from standing to his full height and turned to face her from an odd angle.
Ivy blocked with the length of the spear and got out of range.
“I suppose I’ll have to, but know that I might not always be able to come to the rescue. Green’s okay with a sword and I have no idea what Morgana’s like, but those Fae found me easy.”
That made Jon pause, and he began to circle Ivy cautiously, looking for an opening.
“I mean, what else am I going to do?” he asked. “I have to get her back.”
Jon spotted his opening and jabbed at Ivy’s side. Her block half succeeded, deflecting most of the force but still getting tapped on the ribs.
“I know. I get it, I do. It’s my damn fault in the first place. I just, want to trust you to look after yourselves so no one else gets stuck there.”
“I will. I’ll fight with my bare hands if I have to,” Jon appeared deadly serious, and his seriousness led to a better strike against Ivy’s head. She didn’t get a block up in time as she staggered back, missing her next strike. There was a brief bloom of pain in her head, but Jon hadn’t hit hard.
“I believe you. It doesn’t make me worry any less though.”
“Don’t. Worry distracts you. It makes you vulnerable,” his next strike was weaker and bounced off Ivy’s spear as she blocked, but she missed her next strike anyway.
“How can I not? I’ve seen Green fight, and you seem to know what you’re doing, and Morgana… I’m sorry I know you’re both adults, but only just!” Morgana was seventeen and Jon was younger than that!
“I know. But you have to trust us. Otherwise, you’ll have too much to think about,” his next swing was almost perfect, seeming to flow around her spear to land with the point on her chest. “Please, trust me.”
Ivy held her spear vertically and used it to gently push the sword point to the side. “I want to, and you’re right. There’s too much to think about already. I just, I don’t want anyone else getting hurt,” that line was so cliché it was painful. “Last time I came in here I was supposed to protect your sister, that’s what she hired me for. And, well, that clearly fell down the well.”
“You did protect her. Think about it: she would have gotten kidnapped regardless. You being there is what’s going to save her, because without you, she would have been gone without a trace. But with you, we know what happened. We can find her.”
Ivy just… stared. She had not thought about it like that, and hadn’t realised how much she needed to hear it.
To her great embarrassment she felt the back of her throat burn. She screwed up her face and got into a ready stance, determined to just get lost in the sparring. Her stance broke down pretty quickly, her spear point dipping into the dirt.
“I needed to hear that,” she admitted quietly, trying and failing to keep her voice level.
Jon dropped his sword and put a hand on her shoulder. “You can cry,” he said quietly.
A million swear words flashed through Ivy’s mind. It wasn’t supposed to be happening, she was supposed to be in control of herself, this wasn’t…
A few tears did drop, but she scrubbed them away. “We’re supposed to be training.”
“Can’t train if you can’t see through tears.”
“Wouldn’t be the first time,” she muttered without realising, and instantly regretted it. Damn the Guard. Damn the Coalition to obscurity and oblivion!
Jon’s brows knitted together in concern. “…What was the first time?”
“The Guard. The fucking Guard,” she growled. “Fuck, why now?! Why do I think about this shit now?!”
She backed away and flung her spear at one of the targets. It missed and landed in the ground, causing a surge of anger that made her roar into the night. It faded as quickly as it arrived, leaving Ivy breathing heavily.
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You thought it would be a sparring match, surprise! It's emotions!
We were using dice I think for this, it's been a while, can't remember
Bard's Note: AHHHHH THIS MIGHT BE MY FAVORITE ONE SO FAR