The Last Dance (17)

Hey guys, thanks for the votes and becoming fans =)

Hope you like this chapter! I'm still trying to make it sound right, but I thought I'd get it out there anyway. And it has another blast from the past that hopefully will give you some insight on Celia... that's all I'm saying... ;D

PS. This chapter has a short flashback, which starts and ends with a set of three stars *** for those of you who can't see italics on your phones

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Cheers,

xo.

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Chapter 17 - Changing Perspectives

I whirled around to see Lyle and Ranya in a furious battle. Their swords were clanging against each other with reckless abandon. I started getting nervous as they flailed their swords at each other, all structure forgotten. An experienced swordfighter could handle an inexperienced opponent but this was way different. They could get seriously hurt here. What had happened?

The girls were red in the face and shouting incoherently at each other. I didn't understand, they had been getting along perfectly all morning.

I looked at John in panic to see he had a grim look on his face.

"So, should we pull them apart? Or throw a buck of water over them?" He asked calmly.

My concern changed suddenly to anger and I narrowed my eyes. "No, just get me a stick."

He cocked an eyebrow but quickly found one and handed it to me.

I strode forward and stuck my 'weapon' between theirs to block their strikes. Then, in two quick movements I disarmed them, sending their swords pitching off to the sides.

They stood gaping in shock at me and I fixed them both with an angry glare.

"To be a knight requires chivalry, it takes honour and virtue, not just swinging a weapon around carelessly. You both would do well to remember that" I said icily.

I threw my stick down and stomped off to my tent furiously.

I felt shaken from their display and the confrontation. Fighting wasn't a game, it took proper training! Mostly I had been scared, terrified that they might really get hurt. They had been using proper weapons and everything.

I picked up my sword and started into a complex pattern dance to burn off my anger. I felt tears welling up in my eyes from being so overwhelmed.

"Celia, stop, you should be taking it easy" I heard John say quietly from behind me. I only sped up my movements, keeping my back carefully turned away from him while I blinked to clear my eyes.

Suddenly I felt a hand on my shoulder. I whirled around furiously and had my sword pointing at his throat before he could even register the action.

"Don't touch me."

He didn't look surprised, or even afraid, though his brows came together in frustration.

We glared at each other, neither moving, neither willing to concede. Without taking his eyes off mine he lifted a hand and closed it over my fist clutching the sword hilt. He firmly pulled my hand down and away from him.

"I thought we were past this."

He looked angry and a little hurt and I looked away, immediately feeling bad. I shouldn't have been taking my fear and anger out on him.

When I looked up again he was walking towards the tent flap, his body hunched over as if to shield himself from being vulnerable.

"John wait... I-I'm sorry..."

I looked away again feeling guilty and ashamed. Why couldn't things ever stay easy between us? They always came back to this.

We stood there awkwardly before John finally broke the silence.

"I have to admit to being a bit jealous outside, I thought that tone of voice was reserved specially for me," He said playfully, lightening the mood.

I felt my lips tugging up into a smile despite my swirling emotions.

"You're not mad?" I asked hesitantly.

"I suppose I should be... I must be going soft" He muttered while shaking his head.

"I don't know what happened out there, I just... snapped," I said feeling bad again.

"Don't feel bad, you were scared, no one blames you, not even the girls. I talked to them by the way, it's all sorted out."

I nodded glumly. That was all well and good but it didn't make me feel any better.

His hand came to rest on my shoulder tentatively and when I didn't slap it off he squeezed reassuringly.

"I'm going to tell everyone we'll be off soon." He said before leaving the tent.

I sighed feeling restless and still conflicted.

I picked my sword up from the ground, not even remembering having dropped it and went through another pattern, this one slower. I kept at it for awhile before switching to my left arm.

As I was going into a complex swing pain lanced up my arm and I dropped the sword with a gasp. I rubbed my sore wrist and noticed the faint burn marks snaking around it. I grimaced and picked up the weapon again.

I started with the same move and again felt the pain course through me and the accompanying clatter of metal on the ground.

I bend to lift the sword off the ground yet again when a shadow fell over me.

"Even when you're hurt you refuse to give up" Said an amused voice from behind me.

I turned to see him leaning casually in the opening. The sun shone from behind, casting a halo of light around him. It caught his hair turning it the color of molten gold. The moment sparked a glimmer of recognition within me, I felt as if I'd lived this moment before... only much differently...

***

I held my left hand behind my back to keep it out of the way. In my right I clumsily held onto the sword that was far too heavy for me. I glared at my hand willing it to stop wobbling under the weight. I could feel tears of frustration build up in my eyes and furiously blinked them back.

I wouldn't be defeated by this, but it was just so hard.

I swung my arm forward but the weight of the weapon dragged my high thrust far too low. I swung wide and gasped as pain shot up my arm.

The sword fell out of my hands to clatter on the ground and I rubbed my wrist tenderly hoping I hadn't pulled something yet again.

"When will you just give up and realize fighting's not for girls?"

I whipped around angrily at the sound of the Prince John's jeering voice.

He was leaning against the doorframe with a look of contempt etched across his features. The light from the setting sun bathed him in a red tinted light, making him glow ominously.

Even his hair, turned ashy from the oncoming dusk, seemed to glitter dangerously, matching the look in his eyes.

"I'll NEVER give up!" I answered with more confidence than I felt.

He scoffed "You might as well, you can't even lift that thing, much less swing it, and if you go and get scarred no proper man will have you" He said with all the superiority of a 15 year old.

"Well if proper men are anything like you then I don't want any," I answered hotly.

I could feel the tears building up and blinked rapidly to clear them. Whatever humiliation I might suffer in front of the Prince, it wouldn't include letting him see me cry.

As my eyes cleared I saw that the doorway was now empty. I scanned the darkness suspiciously, knowing he wouldn't leave so easily, not when I'd had the last word.

I warily looked down to pick up my sword, not wanting to be disarmed when I realized it was no longer there.

I gasped as my arm was wrenched roughly behind my back. I bit my tongue hard to keep from crying out in pain as the grip around my sore wrist tightened.

My eyes narrowed to focus on the edge of the blade that rested directly above my collarbone.

The flat of the blade rested against my skin and I suppressed the shiver from the chill, afraid it would be taken as fear.

I heard familiar soft mocking laughter from behind me, but of course, I hadn't thought my captor would be anyone else.

"Go on, free yourself if you can" He challenged.

As much as I didn't want to give him the satisfaction of being unable to escape, I knew doing nothing would be far worse. I struggle futilely against his hold knowing it was useless; he was stronger, more experienced than me.

But the worst part by far, was having my own weapon used against me; of being powerless and weak. I hated it, and I hated him for it.

I heard the satisfied smile in his voice when he next spoke. "I knew it, too weak. Did no one even teach you to never take your eyes off the enemy?"

The blade was swiftly removed, allowing me a deep breath that I sorely needed. My hand was released abruptly and I felt to my knees from the force.

I kept my head up glaring at his retreating back for whatever shred of dignity was left to me.

'Never take your eyes off the enemy', it was a lesson I swore I'd never forget.

As the door slammed shut and I was plunged in near darkness I finally let the tears, of hurt, anger, and humiliation, spill down my cheeks.

***

I shook my head to clear the painful memories. That was years ago, and things had changed shortly after. Sure, John had continued to taunt me, but I wasn't weak anymore, I learned how to fight, with both the sword and other weapons.

I also learned how to take on bigger opponents, more experienced, less experienced, and men who had much more skill.

Thinking back on it now, without his harassment I might actually have given up. In my desire to prove him wrong I had worked harder than ever, determined to master any tool placed in my hand.

It was ironic, that the one thing he'd tried to keep me from only made me want it more. So while it was a painful memory, I wouldn't be where I was today without it. I shuddered, thinking how my skills had already saved both our lives at least once.

Things had been changing rapidly ever since my birthday, which now seemed a world away. Yes, we still fought, but it wasn't the same as before.

I absentmindedly fiddled with the bracelet that still adorned my wrist, glad that it had somehow managed to stay with me during the fire.

Silly of me to think that nothing had changed when clearly so much had.

His eyes back then, so filled with contempt now held a warmth and sparkle I'd never seen before.

The lips that had once always curled up into a sneer were now quick to smile.

And the anger, so easily ignited, had been replaced with a roll of the eyes, and even laughter.

It was like he was a whole new person. Or perhaps he was now just the person he never let me see before.

I couldn't know for sure, and yet his sudden kindness seemed so sincere, seemed to come so naturally it could only be genuine.

Maybe it was time to admit it was his true colors that now shone through. And after all, didn't I owe him the chance after he'd done the same for me so many nights ago?

Old habits must die hard, because whenever things seemed to be getting too comfortable I felt the inexorable need to push him away again.

Still, I hadn't forgotten how much I owed him, and I found I really did trust him, more than I was ready to admit.

The person I'd seen of late was no illusion, of that I was sure. And yet, I couldn't help but look up to reassure myself that his new demeanour was no trick of the light.

He wasn't there, and no wonder with how long I'd been staring into space, yet the old feelings, so fresh in my mind, nagged traitorously.

I instinctively reached for my sword, cursing my suspicious thoughts. Not feeling it in my scabbard, I recalled its earlier clatter to the ground and shifted my gaze downward.

Not there.

I heard a rustling behind me and turned to see my sword in Johns' hand, but it was no threat to me this time.

He was going through the same pattern of moves I'd been attempting before. I watched in silence as he finished the last move and began turning the blade over in his hand thoughtfully. When he caught my gaze he smiled ruefully and handed it back to me by the hilt.

I took it wearily though I had no reason to be. As I'd thought, his eyes held not a trace of the old contempt, but were rather filled with an intensity I could not describe.

I turned away feeling self conscious under his gaze and tried the move again with the same result as before.

As the sword clattered to the floor I glared at it accusingly and heard John chuckling once more. When I shifted my glare to him he tried unsuccessfully to turn his laugh into a cough and I let out a sigh of annoyance.

He bent down to pick the sword up and put it in my hand again. I frowned down at my wrist willing it not to let me down.

I felt John behind me, suddenly much closer than before, just as his hand came around and covered my own. He gently turned my wrist up and held it in place.

"There, try it now"

I looked at my arm dubiously, how would changing my holding position help? He sighed heavily and I felt his warm breath against my cheek, causing me to color slightly.

With his hand still over mine, he guided me through the move in slow motion.

"Try it" He repeated, letting go. The sword felt heavier without his support, but that was ridiculous wasn't it? I decided not to over think it and let my hand go through the motion unconsciously.

It then hit me that the sword was still in my hand, and not on the ground. Moreover, there had been no lance of pain. I turned to him in shock to see a satisfied smile playing across his lips.

"How...?"

He grinned at my sudden loss of words. "Something I learned from the villagers. Do you know they can fight even with a broken wrist? The way I just showed you eliminates the need for you to twist your wrist at all when swinging"

"Impressive, what other useful things did you learn?"

"You'll have to wait until we have another duel to find out" He said mischievously.

"I suppose that's fine, you'll need all the advantage you can get" I teased.

"You're forgetting..." He leaned in close to whisper "...I had a good teacher."

He winked and walked out humming to himself.

I felt my face deepen in color and shook my head in annoyance but a smile won out despite my efforts to hold it back. He was still as much of a royal pain as ever, it was just different now. Much different.