First Spark
Summary: The infamous Scorpion, Crown Prince of the Lin Kuei, helplessly falling deeply in love during battle.
Warning: It's Mortal Kombat. There is Comat. A/N: This is a whole story of both brothers having a bad case of crush. If anyones interested I'll post the other bits as well. Part II Whole Story (Ao3)
The air was cold. A storm was brewing above. And the man, you had tracked for weeks on end, the man you were sent to kill, was so very close now.
Skillfully and silently you moved along the terrain. Unseen and unheard, trained on your victim, so close to striking. Muscles tense, eyes unblinking, drawing your weapon as-
You saw the fight erupt before you.
A fight that, with how it proceeded, would change your path and bring with it so much more than you had ever bargained for.
Your prey, your contract, the man you had carefully stalked, now clumsily and hastily attacked by…a boy. A boy wearing a grey garment, young, too young to fight, to be in a situation such as this. Yet he was fast. And skilled and quick. Quick as yourself now nearing them, whispering: “No…No, no, no.” to yourself as you debated fiercely with yourself if to intervene and end their fight. If to quickly kill the man you were supposed to, or to stop the boy, or to kill them both, or-
Your mind was racing. Your heart as well. You watched on, still hidden, as the boy began to struggle. He was much smaller, much frailer in frame and with the progression of their fight it was clear who would stand victorious in this encounter.
He cried out, shouting. “I Found him! Over here!”, before getting hit by yet another strike of his opponent.
Your head shot to the side. It meant that the boy was not alone. Yet you did not see any aid coming, now heard any answer.
Another strike. The man’s fist had collided with the poor boys head and you could both see and hear the miserable state he was in when he hit the ground after that blow.
And slowly but surely the question in your head moved from fear of the intruding boy, to fear for his life. He was getting mercilessly beaten. Trying desperately to move away, to hold his position yet suffered great hits. He stumbled back, catching his breath for but a second, not seeing as the silver of the man’s blade glistened in the light. You heard someone Shout from afar. The shocked voice of a father, maybe a brother. Someone who saw that with the sheathing of this weapon the boy's life would be forfeit, yet could not reach him in time. Then, despite your better judgment, with your jaw pressed shut and your muscles tense, you rushed in.
The element of surprise was strongly on your side that day. Your blade met his in the last possible second. You had positioned yourself so quickly between the two opponents, that neither had even noticed you for the split second in which you had intervened. Facing your prey, your stare turned cold. You could not see the boy that you had protected so fiercely, stare at you with wide, surprised eyes. Saw only the man you were supposed to kill before you, shocked by your appearance.
So taken aback, that before he had a chance to react any further, you moved beneath his arm, drawing back your weapon and burying it deep into his guts, up into his heart. Out of the corner of your eye then, having angled you body towards him in your movements, you could see the boy behind you sink to his knees. Failing to stay upright. Quickly you pushed your victim off. Turning in a fluent motion and grasping for the young boy, catching him in his fall. His head fell back, revealing his unconscious features to you, beaten and bloodied face laying still. He was warm and soft in your arms and you worried if he was alright. This was not how this should have went. Not how it was planned.
“Tomas!”
The same voice again, this time the man was in view. And then, more than that, shock ran through you, ice cold and damaging. It was impossible not to recognize the man that was sprinting towards you. Even from stories and legends alone, it made your blood freeze and the fear in you arise. With that fear you looked down upon the boy in your arms, noticing he was Lin Kuei as well. One could not miss it in their beautiful ornate Robes and masks. And the man before you none other than…
“You, step back.” His voice was deep. Menacing. And yet it called to you so attractively. As if you had heard it a thousand times before. His infamous speer was held out, directed straight at you as he came to a halt, not bothered or out of breath by the impressive sprint.
He stood oh so tall. Broad as well. Shoulders strong and upright. A fire in his eyes that seemed unyielding. You would not dare to provoke him. Not the second son of the Lin Kuei.
As slowly as you could, you lowered the boy down. Running your hand over his forehead, through his gray hair, then at his throat, checking his pulse. He was alright. Even slower then, you rose from your crouched position. Careful with each step. You thought about raising your hands, to show submission. Yet decided against it. The best way to get out was to neither give up nor confront.
The tense silence hung in the air as you stepped back from the boy, your blade still in hand, but your attention now divided between him and the menacing man who had just arrived. Noone else, but Scorpion. The younger brother, of the sons of the grandmaster of the Lin Kuei. The man's piercing, intense gaze locked onto you, and you felt an electrifying connection between your eyes. Although his face was covered, just as yours, by mask, in that instant, amidst the chaos, you recognized a strange attraction and admiration that welled up within you.
His speer remained pointed at you, unwavering, a clear indication of his readiness for confrontation. His reputation as a formidable warrior was well-deserved, and the stories you'd heard about him had not done justice to the aura of power that emanated from him. Like heat, it seemed to wash over you, filling you with strange exhilaration.
The boy you had saved, lay at your feet, his shallow breaths and steady pulse reassuring you of his safety. He was battered and bloodied, sure, but his life was not in immediate danger.
The man before you squinted his eyes at you, then they shifted briefly to the fallen boy. "You saved him," he said, his voice a complex blend of stern authority and intrigue. "But that won't absolve you of your intrusion."
Intrusion. Yes. You were in Lin Kuei territory. You had hunted your contract here. Knowing he would escape had you not. There had been no other choice in your mind.
You knew you had to be cautious, and you kept your blade at the ready, prepared for a fight you had not initially bargained for. "I did not mean to stumble upon anyone" you replied, your voice steady, though your heart raced. "I have my reasons for being in your territory."
Scorpion raised an eyebrow, and a flicker of curiosity danced across his eyes. "Reasons," he echoed, as if trying to decipher your intentions.
As you stood there, the tension in the air grew more palpable with each passing moment. Both of you were Assassins, bound by duty and honor, but now standing at an unexpected and unwanted crossroads. You knew there was little chance you had against him, if it came to a fight. Somehow you would have to evade this, his moves, his speer, long enough to get away.
The boy, Tomas,still did not regain consciousness. You glanced down at him and then back at the man. "He is alive and well. I do not ask for thankfullness, only for letting me go, as if unseen" you proposed, a hint of desperation in your voice. "Let's not make this any bloodier than it needs to be."
The man's gaze remained fixed on you, his expression unyielding, but a hint of something deeper tugged at the corners of his lips. “I don’t think so.”
The tension between you was a strange one. There was an undeniable connection that had sparked in the midst of this chaos that you found yourself in. Was it his eyes? His voice? You had heard it before. You knew that. Were so sure of it. And he. The way he looked at you. Moved his eyes up and down your form, puzzled expression, intrigue in his eyes. It was strange but he seemed to feel just as you did. He continued watching you with curious eyes, the short blade dancing in his hands. The world around you seemed to hold its breath, awaiting the next move in this unexpected dance of nearing Combat.
“You said it yourself, Woman. You are in Lin Kuei territory. I’ll have to take you in.”
Your eyes were trained on him. Heart began racing once more. The air tense, just as your piercing gaze. “I won’t go voluntarily.” His answer was calmer, nearly glad about this decision of yours. “I thought so.”
With the tension between you reaching its peak, the clash of steel became inevitable. Still wielding his infamous speer, he made the first move, lunging forward with deadly precision. You moved, feeling the hot air of the metal just inches next to your face, then, slicing through soft skin, leaving a bloody but rather shallow gash on your cheek. He pulled it back just as quickly and you moved again, evading it’s sting, before he drew his blade and it met yours in a beautiful sound of clinging metal. Another attack followed, then another. His strikes were swift and merciless, yet you moved with a grace and agility that seemed almost choreographed.
You parried his attacks with fluid movements, your blade meeting his with a melodious ring that echoed through the air. The dance of combat began, and it was unlike any you had experienced before. Each swing, each thrust, and every step felt like a part of a beautifully orchestrated performance.
He was relentless, his speer and blade a blur as it sliced through the air. You evaded his strikes with a dancer's finesse, your body swaying like a reed in the wind. Your movements were swift, his direct and forceful, a mesmerizing display of skill and precision. The air around him was hot. His skin, whenever you brushed against it, steeming, scorching.
Despite the intensity of the battle, there was a strange, unspoken understanding between you and him. A mutual respect for each other's abilities emerged as the fight continued. Admiration gleamed in his eyes as he saw your agility and prowess.
He stepped back as you had dodged another swing, landing in a crouched position. A moment of peace. A moment to breathe. A moment to watch each other closely. Seconds had past. A minute maybe. And yet you felt like you had spent hours brushed against him, lost in dance.
You could see his chest rising and falling with his rapid breathing. See his muscles tense. His shape pristine. You could see his eyes doing the same. Watching you oh so tenderly as you slowly rose to your feet. He was clearly impressed. Impressed or rather, entertained, maybe.
"Who are you?" he asked, acknowledging your theory of admiration, his voice low and tinged with a hint of appreciation.
You began to move. Slowly, pacing like a wild cat. He joined your movements, just like in battle. Synchronised in a beautiful dance. The two of you circled each other, a magnetic connection pulling you closer with each step. The man's breath was measured. The adrenaline coursed through your veins, and you couldn't deny the exhilaration of the fight.
As the clouds above cast eerie shadows on the battleground, the man lunged once more, and you twirled away gracefully, your blade grazing his arm as you did so. He winced, but once more there was a glint of admiration in his eyes. The pain seemed to fuel his determination. He grasped it then, his wound. Looking at the blood that ran beneath his fingers and then up to you again. Knowing, you would not attack him. Knowing as surely as you did, that there had formed a respect between the two of you so quickly, that neither had actively witnessed it happening. It was simply understood.
You parried his next strike, locking your gaze with his, and for a brief, electrifying moment, the world around you disappeared. It was just the two of you, locked in a dance of blades, a fight where admiration mingled with the thrill of combat.
And it continued, a harmonious clash of steel, a duel that neither of you seemed willing to end. As the seconds turned into minutes, it became clear that this battle was no longer about territory or a contract. It was a display of skill and a testament to the undeniable connection you seemed to share. More and more you noticed yourself not wanting to harm him. And neither seemed he to want to. Seemingly pulling back his punches, missing you on purpose, wanting to see your skill, feel your heat within his rather than being out for blood. He had you once, twice at a damaging position, yet did not strike, but glanced at you wondrously. You as well had your blade against his throat, only to redraw, deciding to back off before he lunged again.
The sun found its way through the thick clouds above, a silent witness to the dance of blades and the unspoken bond that had formed between you. This battle was far from over, and the admiration you held for each other would continued to grow.
It took you by surprise then, as he lunged forward. In a sudden burst of speed and strength, the man managed to close the distance between you, his speer aiming to immobilize you. With a swift, unexpected maneuver, he had gotten hold of you with his infamous weapon. Rope that felt as hot as him suddenly tangled around you, squeezing you tightly, taking your breath away. Before you knew it he pulled you close and his powerful grip held you firmly.
You found yourself pressed against him. Pulled with your back into his chest, strong arms around you, holding you in place. You could feel his heat up close now. Feel the rising and falling of his chest. For a moment, you were defenseless, your chest heaving, and your heart pounding. You turned your head, struggling, seeing him watching you from over your shoulder. The man's intense gaze bore into you, and his eyes seemed to contain a mix of regret and resolve. It was the strangest move then, that he did not finish you right then and there, but to grasp your mask, carefully and tenderly, pulling it down, revealing his face to you.
Frozen, shocked and taken aback by this move, you held completely still. Lips slightly parted, eyes wide. It was this that he had chosen as the prize for his victory. To see his opponent. You looked at him all surprised, yet unmoving in his arms, as the soft fabric brushed past your lips and beneath your chin. Not as surprised as himself however, the great Scorpion looking admiringly, dumbfounded even at your features, still for just a moment. The moment passed. Then another. Neither spoke nor moved. Both out of breath. Both exhausted and yet so intensely concentrated. On each other - in a different way this time around.
Sensibility only slowly returned to you. But when it did you remembered what was truly happening. That the man, no matter how close now, was a killer who would take you hostage if you did not change something about your situation fast. And so another moment passed.
A moment you had to use in your favor. You were swift and determined. With a deft twist of your body, you managed to break free from his grip, turning the tables on him. You landed a series of powerful blows, using the momentum you'd gained from your evasion to kick at the back of his knee, then at his chest.
The man grunted, his composure momentarily shattered. His speer clattered to the ground, and he staggered backward. There was an undeniable sense of satisfaction that surged through you as you overcame him, a fire in your eyes that matched the sparks of attraction that had flared between you. You had grasped his own blade, moved so quickly, and then -
Pointed it at his throat. Silence fell. Time stood still, for but a moment, just as it had before. The great scorpion, beat by his own blade, hieving, staring you down. Admiring the fire in your eyes.
Just as you were about to speak to him, something unexpected happened. The heat of the air disappeared. Replaced by cold. Then a swishing noise.
You heard Scorpions hiss, felt him lunge at you, grasping you, turning you around in his arms, trying desperately to protect you. It was because of him that instead of your heart, itr was your shoulder that was pierced by ice. Then a searing pain rushed through your shoulder, and you cried out in agony, collapsing into the man that was no longer fighting, but holding you. Blood stained your clothing, and the world spun around you as you sank to the ground.
The man, who had been your adversary just moments ago, now knelt by your side, a mixture of shock and concern in his eyes. "No," he muttered, his voice tinged with regret. He hadn't wanted this outcome.
His accomplice approached, the icey air still prevalent around him, his face pale as he noticed his brothers scattered around you. One laying, one holding you.
Scorpions gaze shifted between you and his accomplice, a protective instinct rising within him. "We need to save her," he declared, the urgency in his voice clear. "She's not our enemy, and you just gravely wounded her."
“She’s in our territory, brother. What has gotten into you.” “She saved Tomas!” “She’s a threat, and i won’t let you-”
Voices faded around you. You felt strength leaving you. Heard your own heart beating. And felt warmth, above all, lull you in.
The encounter had taken an unexpected turn, and what had once been a battle of wills had transformed into a complex mixture of attraction, duty, and the shared desire to keep you alive.