The Glint In Your Eyes Matches The Glint Of Your Steel

[Kavala]

Timestamp: Early Winter 511
Location: Sanctuary
Purpose: Dagger Training
Status: Closed

The horses were fed. The cows had been turned out to graze. All the animals in the clinic had been cared for. The chickens had been thrown their feed, and her client list looked empty of appointments unless some emergency cropped up. She'd already went for her morning run on the beach, taking Tasi and Shayru with her in their backpack. It was a luxury she'd not be able to keep doing for long. The little boy was sitting up, crawling, and growing like a weed. He was almost a year and she expected him to be walking soon. That meant he was soon going to be far too heavy for her to pack around like he was extra gear. Kavala still had guests, and though it was early, she was determined to wake one guest up in particular because he needed some sort of physical break from the mental strain he'd been under while at Sanctuary.

Ronan was a new friend, but since he'd been here, Kavala had treated him like family, giving him and Leto chores to do and letting them take turns at preparing meals (with her guidence) and mostly letting them rest while not letting them freeload too much. She wouldn't have minded letting Sama'el and his crew just lounge around gathering strength for the trip north, but that wasn't how the Drykas operated. They needed things to do, reasons to exist, tasks to perform to feel important and more importantly needed. And Kavala felt extra hands were always welcome, especially trustworthy ones.

But Ronan had been put through extra amounts of strain while here. For some reason she hadn't let him rest and had even went so far as to drag him into Nysel's realm so her Dreamlord could get a good look at him. Nysel was particularly heavy on the mental stuff, which meant Ronan would have been feeling the strain and needed a mental break. That meant physical training.

And so it was that Kavala woke him early by utterly invading his privacy like the sister she claimed to be, and tossing a bundled package onto his bed. "Rise and shine, Ronan. I'll give you five minutes to take care of the necessity, dress, and be munching on that bread. I'll meet you in the courtyard arena. Save that bandana your bread is wrapped in. You'll need it as a blindfold. Bring your weapons." She said, lighthearted amusement coloring her tone. "Time starts now." She said to the slumbering form. She turned, Tasivall still in her arms, and exited.

[Ronan]

"What?" Ronan croaked, bleary eyed. He turned, brushing off the sheets, and sat up rubbing his eyes and face, still half asleep. Kavala stood there, clearly fnding this whole thing funny, as she passed him bread for breakfast. He looked at her, hair wild, bare chested, and a little confused. And then got up to go and wash his face.

Bring your weapons? What the Ukalas was she referring to? He pulled on a shirt and smalls, then some loose fitting trousers. He collected his dagger, and sheathed it on his belt.

It had been a strange few days. The journey into Nysel's realm had left him shattered mentally, the trials had worn through his very soul. He knew it would take him a while to fully recover.

Unwrapping the bread, he chewed on it gratefully. He also felt awfully hungry all the time. And this was the bread they had baked the other day. It made it taste all the better know his own hands had worked the dough.

Sighing, he shook the crumbs off the bandana, and held it in his hand, leaving his room to head down to the courtyard arena. Weapons. Arena. Kavala wanted to fight? He almost laughed at the thought, and then remembered her as Crescent. She had certainly looked ready for combat in that form.

He was finding it harder and harder to think about leaving. When Sama'el returned he'd be gone, and he wouldn't be able to come back to Riverfall for nearly two seasons at the least. But he wanted to spend more time with Kavala, he really did.

But that conflict was difficult to think on too. Why did he always feel for those he had to close his heart for? Why, he thought miserably. Because it's the story of your life. Always wanting what you can't have.

He arrived at the arena, and saw Kavala sat to one side. No doubt he had missed her deadline, but he smiled at her all the same. Her smile back was intense. It spoke of understanding, not questioning. There were very few who he could make that claim of.

[Kavala]

The Konti met the Drykas in the courtyard arena. She was waiting patiently, actually surprised he showed faster than she expected even if he was still a little groggy. She studied him a few moments, not unkindly, and wondered if she shouldn't have waited until it was later in the morning to wake him. They'd had a very extraordinary two days and in that time had recognized something in themselves that the Konti thought of as the beginnings of a deep friendship. Kavala had no history with him, no previous knowledge of who he was and what his life had been like, but there was something there anyhow. They both knew it.

Kavala pulled the cloth from Ronan's hand with a gentle tug as she approached. Smiling, like a child about to pull a prank, she reached up and wrapped it around his head blindfolding him neatly. She leaned close to secure the knot behind his head, her hair brushed his face and she quietly whispered. "I'm taking you somewhere no one outside the staff here has ever seen. You'll need to keep the secret." She said softly, her lips almost against his ear. Then she pulled away and he felt a webbed and lightly scaled hand link in his own. She tugged and they started walking.

He sensed more than saw them pass through some sort of doorway and begin to head down. There were echos of footfalls and so he knew they were in a space that was not unlike a hallway though larger and seemingly empty. It angled downward, like a ramp with ridges that stretched across the smooth stone every stride or so. It did not take him long to realize a horse could get a grip on stone with such a feature, and that was probably why the ridges existed. It was a good design for animals and the slope gentle enough they could traverse it easily enough. Stone echoed under his boot heels as they went deeper and deeper down.

They turned, moving through passages and into what he could only say sounded like rooms. Rugs muffled his footsteps now and then the quality of the stone changed under his feet. Squeaks of marble could be heard that then changed to soft muffled padding. Walls expanded then came closer until Kavala finally paused, released his hand, and reached up and removed the blindfold.

They stood together in a large room with a vaulted ceiling that made Ronan immediately think of a cave due to its roughness. But the walls were made of Drykas knotwork, topaz interwoven with moonstone and lapis that swirled around. The floor was black marble but covered with a thin pad that seemed to indicate the place was definitely for training. Weapons racks lined the walls, housing even places for armor and padding. Circles were placed in the floor and reflected in the padding so that two, maybe three sets of people could train at the same time. There were weights in the room as well and artifical people who were set up as targets. A makeshift archery range was also denoted by other lines in the stone and pad upon the floor. Targets designed to absorb bolts and arrows without breaking them were hung from the fall wall.

Kavala smiled.

"Be welcome. This is where we train, Ronan. I thought you and I... daggers... here and now." And with that she shifted her stance, set his bandana aside and drew a dagger bowing to him in a sort of cheeky challenge. He noted she held her knife reversed, so the blade laid along her arm rather than pointed at him. She looked comfortable with it, a gleam of excitement and anticipation shining in her eye.

[Ronan]

Kavala looked at him mischievously, and gently tugged the bandana from his hand, wrapping it over his head to obscure his sight.

He was taken aback when her hand clasped his own. He felt the webbing between her fingers, and the delicate scales that speckled her skin. He gripped it tightly, and allowed her to take him wherever she willed. Though he was blind to their direction, he was happy to put his trust into her hands.

The whisper shook him from his reverie, soft hair brushing his cheek. The voice was soothing, honey and crystal. Ecstasy in audio. He had never heard her whisper before, and he wondered if he'd hear it again.

Soon they were descending, or so far as he could tell. They travelled through some sort of hallway, the walk surprisingly longer than he expected. His shoes suddenly squeaked against a smoother surface, before spongey padding met his footfalls.

They stopped suddenly, and Kavala released his hand, her touch fading from his skin. She removed the blindfold from him, and he gazed around at the room with awe and a twinkling smile.

The ceiling was higher than he would have imagined, the floor and arms at the edges hinted that this was a room for training and personal betterment. Especially where weapons were involved.

"Be welcome. This is where we train, Ronan. I thought you and I... daggers... here and now."

He turned to find her in a battle stance, dagger held in a competent position. He tilted his head, measuring her, and then parted his legs to create his own centre of balance. He grinned at her, unsheathing his own dagger.

"Don't expect me to go easy on you," he said with a cheeky undertone. It was funny how many emotions she could bring out in him. Warm compassion, understanding, but a slant of mischief too. "I've heard Konti bleed easily."

[Kavala]

Kavala grinned. "We do, bleed easily that is, and its just as crimson as your own." She added, then backed up in a dance as old as time. Her body position invited him into the circle with her and as she crossed one foot over the next, keeping her stance clean, she urged him to follow with her body.

They were going to fight, to test each other's meddle, and judge the worth. In a way it was a flirtation as old as time. A female had selected a partner in life and now it was time to see if he was up to the task. All creatures did this, preformed this testing, but it was something more as well. It was a chance for them to be innocently alone. It was a chance for them to dance and come together, whirl apart, and test each other while being with each other in a way that was innocent. Blue eyes gone blindingly pale with excitement captured his own, circling him, enjoying the way he moved with his weapons while at the same time judging those movements.

Kavala was liquid water as she took to the master's circle and faced him. Her motions were silk smooth and deliberate as if there was no fear in her at all that he'd cut her or hurt her. And while she wore no armor, the majority of knife fights didn't require them. If you were good at your work, then you were good at controlling the opponent's knife as well and that control kept you from being cut.

The Konti danced forward suddenly, engaging him, her motions slow at first, testing the waters, taking an upward cut at this heart, giving him plenty of room to test the waters as well and causally block. They were warriors that were new to each other. The learning curve would be slow and deliberate before they learned each other well enough to increase the speed, take chances on the accuracy, and challenge each other.

And as she watched, testing him carefully, Kavala couldn't help but admire the way he moved. Solid yet flexible, Ronan was a man who'd spent most of his life active and on horseback. His balance looked incredible, and even the way he collected his muscles and pulled them in to work exactly the way he wanted them too impressed her.

She noted the way he held the knife, his head, and where his eyes were. And just by his movements and the way he seemed to feel out the situation as well, Kavala suspected they were fairly equally matched.

The Konti was ready, despite all the thoughts in her head, to block or counter whatever move he threw at her as well.

[Ronan]

"That is true," he said with a flirtatious smile.

She settled into her own stance, and he watched her keenly. When she moved into the circle, she was resonant of a dancer, legs moving like water and silk. She held the dagger comfortably, and he began to move in the circle as she came towards him.

Kavala jabbed a few times, testing the water, melding herself for this match. He blocked her each time, their speeds evenly matched. They almost danced together, feet working in combination to stay facing one another.

"Impressive," Ronan said slowly, nodding half to himself, "Who taught you to fight with the dagger?"

He breathed, casually moving from her glancing blows, before sweeping to the side and aiming to strike at her chest. It was a faster move than before, and would test her agility and quick thinking.

[Kavala]

She was more excited than she should be. Kavala had been trained to be a cold fighter, leaving emotion behind and becoming like the blade she held in her hand, cold and emotionless. But the man before her was such a warm presence to her. His infectious smile cause done to drift across her face. When he moved, she came together with him naturally, and she realized with her odd kontiness, that facing him was somehow wrong. What would be more right would be to put her back to his and defend what was behind him becoming an extension of his own actions.

He was her match, she decided, in all things and the realization hit her as she drew blades with him and began to move with him. It was little things she noticed. They breathed together as one. They shifted their daggers from one hand to the other unconsciously, mirroring each other. When he darted right, she spun left, holding that mirror, and when he automatically parried her thrusts just as she blocked his own.

They came together, had a silent conversation with metal, and broke apart again. And by the gods was it exciting. She was the center of his world for that moment in the master's circle and he was indeed her center as well. They were together and their bodies reflected it, moving as if they'd been training together for years.

He increased the pace and she matched him, blocking, then returning a thrust that he blocked just in time to parry a second. Back and forth they went, reversing grips, forwarding thrusts, and swinging. Kavala was breathing more intensely now and sweating, but somehow it was natural to do so in front of him. Soon enough her hair became slick with sweat, but she didn't call a halt. The dance was too important, too intimate, and felt too right.

Her dagger even bit into his flesh a time or two and with the flick of his wrist he removed more than one of her delicate shimmering scales still bloody at the scale root. But the pain felt good, it was a reminder of what she stood to loose if her training ever failed her. He asked questions and she answered them, but only slowly, as breath permitted. His first answer came later into the fight.

"Vanator.. my father, even one of my talvas' named Hatot." She was loath to mention the Akalak she'd been bound too. But she didn't want to hide anything from him. "I want to be better at dagger for they are small, deadly, and useful in almost any kind of fight - even thrown. They remind me of me..." She said, grinning slightly. "I'm not perhaps deadly, but one of these days with the help of these... maybe I could be." She said, advancing on him in a blur of footwork that brought her right up under his chin with a dagger threatening his more important parts of the continuation of his clan. Her eyes were fill of laughter but the dagger in her hand was completely and utterly serious.

[Ronan]

Ronan was impressed by Kavala. He had not underestimated her per se - she was a strong woman, and no one could miss that - but he had no expected a level of finesse that came only with practise.

They both moved with synchronicity. Their daggers clashed time and time again. Ronan would push against, but find Kavala breaking the block and going for him at a different angle. Then they would swap like dancers, and she would be on the offensive, Ronan parrying and breaking away again.

They span for a long while. Kavala's hair grew sodden with perspiration and Ronan could feel his own sweat sliding down his flesh. She had nicked him a few times, but he had returned the gesture. He grinned through the pain, adrenaline pumping through his body.

They clashed again, daggers arced upwards, both twisting so as to get the next hit in. But they clashed, blocking one another. The dance broke apart and then rejoined, and so the cycle repeated, hearts racing.

Vanator. He had been one of her mentors. He wondered what would have happened had their daggers clashed as their fists had that day.

"Oh I can well believe it, there is a deadliness inside of you, and it burns through. A desperation perhaps... but a desire to protect. A desire to live."

Then suddenly she was upon him, staring up at him with amused eyes, dagger held close to his crotch. He blinked, startled, then exhilaration filled him. There was something oddly lustful about the position. For that moment Kavala held power against him, domination from femininity.

He stayed still for a moment, then swung his arm low, hoping to catch the blade on her wrist and knock the dagger away. Then he moved it back up in a circle, pointing the tip at her throat.

"Clever," he whispered, sweating even more now. "I agree with you. The dagger is one of the most deadly weapons if in the right hands."

[Kavala]

He made her feel powerful and she craved it. Kavala would have liked to blame it on the Crescent in her, but she knew that wasn't it. Each time he drew her blood her body hummed and she reacted in kind, drawing his own with small shallow wounds and insignificant slices she could heal with a thought. But it was doing something to her, something she knew she had to get a control over or else it'd ruin her life. But she also knew there were secrets she could not keep from Ronan, not and continue fighting like this. They spun together once more, whirled apart, and moved as one mirroring each other around the circle. Her leathers protected her moreso than his clothing did and Kavala decided in the middle of the dance she was going to get Ronan some Akalak style leathers because they'd suit him and the warrior he'd need to be to survive in the world.

But her breath came faster as they picked up the pace, the sparring became more deadly as thrusts were made full force and blocked at the last minute and countered with blades that were not dull for practice.

She was blooded and he was blooded and they came together in the center for another moment when both could talk. Her wrist locked in his with a block and his locked within hers in a similar move, their arms were aloft and their torso's touching. She bled freely now as did he and both of them drank in big lungfuls of air as they froze in position, bodies pressed together at their chests, their hips, and their thighs.

He'd agreed with her moments earlier... and called her deadly. "You're wrong, Ronan. I am deadly, but the desire you feel from me is something else... something broken." She whispered, leaning close to nuzzle his neck. They were alone buried in the ground beneath Sanctuary were no eyes could see them. Her teeth caught his flesh, nipped, and openly invited intimacy and even sex. Her whole body shook with it as she relaxed her hold on her dagger and let it fall carelessly to the ground, releasing his wrist as well.

With each nick and cut, with each barely parried slice, he'd driven her more and more to the edge of madness. It wasn't a madness she could control either, though it was one she hated afterwards. Her arms came around him, wanting him, wanting this, the battle having dragged her to it. She'd have to talk fast, to explain to him all of it, one of her darkest secrets, because if she didn't, he wouldn't understand and that she knew was wrong.

She spoke low, quickly, her words shocking as she wrapped herself around him intimately. She held him close breathing deeply until the shaking slowly abated. Then, as if reining herself under control, she pulled back and walked a few steps away leaving the dagger lay. "I never talk about this, not to my Talvis', not to anyone. No one knows...." She said softly, almost desperately as her body kept wanting her to walk back to Ronan and to do things to Ronan. Her voice seemed disconnected from the whole thing, as if it manifested from someplace differere. This was not the Kavala he knew, not the one he would have suspected to know as well. "There was a man when I was captured, Ronan..." She said, her whole body shaking... her whole body almost worked up to a fever pitch. "He wasn't like the rest. He didn't just force the women and leave once the act was done... in fact he never did anything but take his time with them. He had magic... I could feel it. I don't know what sort though... and he had daggers. He'd cut people. He used to cut them until they bled... and then he'd keep going." She said softly, looking thoughtful, turning around to face him. "He'd cut them until they liked it, until they craved it, because it was the only way to survive him carving them up. Pain gets confused with pleasure as a defense... then you start needing it... wanting it... and instead of making you back off, it makes you come at it faster, and you know you've lost a piece of yourself to the situation..." she said suddenly softly. She reached up and brushed at her shoulder where a tiny shallow slice graced her shoulder.

[Ronan]

When he nicked Kavala's flesh, she always seemed to return the attack in kind. Small cuts. Droplets of blood. They were simply the fuel of battle, adding urgency and adrenaline.

He was hot. And both of them were sweating, yet the dance continued all the same. There was something so intense about it. Unfathomable, and yet Ronan enjoyed the feeling.

There came a moment where she held him, shaking, and whispered to him. Her words provoked a reaction from within him. Inner fire, burning brightly. She said she was broken, but... "Aren't we all?"

Her mouth touched his neck and he shivered, electricity running down his body. She promised to speak of her secret. Her dark secret. He watched the blade as it fell from her hand. Something had consumed her, beyond that wild heart she carried round so naturally.

He took her into his arms when she came close, sheathing his dagger for the moment. His breath was quick and ragged, but she still smelt sweet, and felt so perfect beside him. When she walked away, he gave a start. What had that feeling been? So powerful...

As she began talking, she was hardly recognisable. That fierceness had melted into madness. Something hysterical worked within her. As she spoke, he listened deeply, trying to understand.

It was a dark path indeed, and one Ronan had never walked. He had never learnt to substitute pain for pleasure. Instead, he had piled on more pain, until the load was so heavy, like a dark thunderous cloud chasing him, and overshadowing his every step.

"I.... I don't think I can fully grasp that, Kavala. And why... why must there be such cruel people in our world? But in my own way, I understand. We all put up defence mechanisms. We all find a way to live. To survive. To get through each bleeding, grey day."

He looked up, into those eyes. Those craving eyes. She was not truly broken though. It was her own thoughts that perpetuated that myth. She only had to see the good.

"It is just different from my own."