I keep coming up with new things to write about with these two, help! Here’s an uncomfortably honest one. Any resemblance to actual people is unintentional; this is not autobiographical, although I did draw heavily on personal experiences. I hesitated to post this because it does seem a bit awkward and of a different tone than the other chapters, possibly even out of character. But it’s an experiment, and hey, you didn’t expect they had a universally perfect relationship, did you?

 

Fight With Me

It was a stupid fight. It was incredibly stupid and it shouldn’t have ended how it did. Something about who was supposed to have washed the pots from dinner last night? Ceniro was actually kind of lazy, and I was sure it was his turn, but he denied it. “I did them the night before, remember?”

“You’re imagining things,” I said. “I did them last night. Just do them, they won’t take that long.” If he suggested that I ought to do them because cleaning was women’s work – a thought I’d heard far too often in Caelin – I would hit him. But he hadn’t ever said that yet.

“No, I’m sure I did them. I do them a lot.”

“Because I do most of the cooking,” I snapped. “Get off your lazy Lycian butt and be useful.” I had enough to deal with actually making the food.

He flushed. “Lycian butts can be just as useful as any other butts.”

“Well, apparently yours isn’t for anything besides tactics.”

“I told you that when we met,” he said, folding his arms and frowning. He wasn’t going to wash those pots, was he!? I couldn’t start until he did!

“And you think that’s a good excuse to be lazy under my roof?”

“I thought it was our roof.”

“Then do the damn dishes!”

He threw his arms in the air and went to get the first pot. “Why is it such a big deal!?”

“By the Spirits, you think I want to do extra work? I’ve done them for you before and I’m not doing them this time.”

“Why don’t you get the Spirits to do them?” he muttered.

I paused in the middle of getting down the choy and jerky. “Excuse me!?” I was so not in the mood for this. “This is how it’s done in Sacae. You want to keep being an emaciated ragged vagabond!? Go ahead! Apparently that’s all you can do when not pulling impossible victories out of thin air!”

He didn’t yell. He never yelled. But I could hear the frustration in his voice as plain as day as he tried to claw the argument back towards safer ground. “That’s another thing. Lyn… I’m trying, all right? But you’re not making it easy for me! I know you love it here, but ever since you got back it’s been ‘Sacae this’ and ‘Sacae that’ and I need a break.”

Oh. That… was a good point. But my temper was still running hot and his complaint didn’t address my complaint. “Apparently you need a break from working like a normal person, too.”

He put the pot back down and folded his arms again huffily. “Maybe I do!”

“Is that why you’ve been a clam the last week? You don’t feel like being affectionate like a normal person? Too much Sacae here in Sacae for you?” My hands were on my hips and I knew there was lightning in my eyes.

“Oh, then is that why you’ve been all up in my face smothering me? If you’d just let me have two minutes alone, maybe I could- but you just keep pushing me and pulling me like an attention-seeking child!”

That did it! “Argh!” I whirled and began to stomp away. His face melted into an expression of consternation, and he took two quick steps after me and grabbed at my wrist.

“Lyn, pl-”

I reflexively broke free and spun, punching him square in the chest. He grunted and fell heavily on his backside.

“And another thing!” I yelled. “Learn to fight! My boyfriend shouldn’t be so much weaker than me that I can just knock you down with one blow!”

He flinched as he sat up. “I… Lyn…”

I ran, fury and guilt fueling every step. I whistled for my horse, swung astride, and galloped out across the plains.

 

I didn’t stop riding for an hour. Ceniro might try talking to me through the farseer and I needed time to think first.

To think things over, now that I’d already done the damage. Now that I’d already hurt him, maybe destroyed our ever-fragile relationship. Why could I never think things through first?

I dismounted by the stream and let out a long, frustrated yell. “Aaaauuuuuugh!” And slumped on my bum beside my horse. “What… just happened?” My hands were shaking, but no longer with anger. How could I have said that to him? He was doing his best. But then he did that, and he said that, and suddenly I just wanted to make him angry, to affect him like he was affecting me, to show him the pain I was in. He was right. I was being a child.

I began to sniffle, tears gathering painfully in the corners of my eyes. That was also childish! I was the daughter of Hassar, chieftain of the Lorca, I didn’t cry over a fight with a man. …But I was so confused, and guilty, and still a little angry, but I wanted to stab myself for saying the things I’d said. Crying was better than suicide. Probably.

We’d been living together a month, and things had been going so well… mostly… hadn’t they? It had been perfect at first. We’d walk together on the fields every day, and it was fortunate that neither of us minded the heat and the sunlight or walking long distances. He wasn’t that good at cooking so I made most of the food, and he did seem to like what I made. I’d practice my sword forms every day for several hours – couldn’t get out of shape or lose my edge just because I was being domestic. He watched, or studied his farseer or read one of the two books he had, or wrote in his journal.

The days had gotten longer and longer as time went on, though, and I couldn’t tell why. My chatter couldn’t fill up his silences enough. He withdrew more from me. The hand holding and kisses became less frequent, and not just because we were being careful not to go too far.

I still loved him, right?

Yes, I did. He was still him, even if everything had gone strange and wrong. I wasn’t imagining it. I still wanted to kiss his boyish face. I still wanted to be with him, to see his smile, to show him everything, to be shown the things he loved, to be near that quiet brilliance as much as I could. Even if there wasn’t much chance here for him to show that brilliance, the intensity that I adored that only came out under pressure. We worked so well together on the march, on the battlefield, but there were no battlefields here, and that was what we wanted, wasn’t it? Of course it was what we wanted, that everyone could have peace. But I was too impatient. I wanted him to assimilate into my life now. I’d given no thought to what he wanted, assuming he would go along with it as he always had.

And now my impatience had exploded in his face like a Shine spell. In both our faces. His words kept echoing in my ears until they rang. “But you just keep pushing me and pulling me like an attention-seeking child!” I covered my ears with my hands and yelled to keep his voice out.

If I went back to the ger, would he be there? It was all too easy to imagine him packing up his few possessions and leaving. He could be long gone by the time I got back, and I’d never find him again.

And all because of a stupid argument.

I finally put my head down and cried.

 

I’d been sitting there for at least two hours, crying and thinking and crying some more, when my horse’s ears swiveled around and I felt hoofbeats through the ground. The horse who was making them was coming towards me at a steady walk, an unthreatening sound.

I scrambled to my feet anyway, my hand on my sword – you never knew who could be out here.

But it was Ceniro, his face solemn, and I froze up on seeing him.

He dismounted while still a ways away and came closer on foot.

I turned away, sat down again, and looked at the ground. I didn’t want him to see my red-eyed tear-stained face.

He was a few metres away now, watching me quietly. I could feel it.

“So… you still think I’m too good for you?” I tried to joke, but a big sniffle spoiled it.

He looked sad as he sat. “Why do you say that?”

“I was just the most horrible person I’ve ever been!” I burst out. “I’m sorry – I’m so, so sorry. I’m sorry for yelling at you, I’m sorry for hitting you, I’m sorry for calling you lazy, I’m sorry for-”

He opened his mouth to say something and I shut up. “I’m not blameless either. I checked, and you were right. It was my turn. And I shouldn’t have said that about the spirits, and I shouldn’t have tried to stop you, and I know I’m lazy all the time…”

“I’m still the one who messed up!” I said. Father had always said that if you made a mistake, you had to take responsibility for it. “I’ll never do any of it again, I promise. I… I just don’t know what’s wrong with me! Why have I been so terrible to you the last couple weeks?”

He was silent for a few minutes. “What are you afraid of?” he asked finally, so quietly I almost missed it.

I snapped my head around to stare at him, wide-eyed and confused. “Afraid?”

He was looking at the stream, plucking aimlessly at a strand of grass in his hands. “Fear is usually why people get angry. For me… I’m afraid you’re getting bored of me. I don’t have enough to say. I’m not interesting enough. You’ll realize I’m just as useless as you said and ditch me.”

My mouth was hanging open. “I- that’s-”

“I’m not completely wrong, right?” His grey eyes were fixed on me pleadingly.

“No, you’re wrong!” I said right away. “I’m the one in the wrong about all of those things. I’ve been trying to make you talk. I’ve been trying to drag you into everything, because I’m impatient and selfish.” I shook my head. “What I’m afraid of…”

I hadn’t thought of it that way before, but now that I did… It took me a couple minutes, but it was much easier to find words to describe my feelings than it had been before. “I’m afraid you’ll get bored of life here. There’s not much here compared to what you normally see when you travel, and we’re not traveling as fast as you normally do, and we don’t have the kinds of work or responsibilities we’d have as part of a tribe. And you’re right, I keep trying to shove my culture down your throat.” I glanced at him. “I was terrified you would be using this time to leave forever.”

I wondered what I’d do if I was afraid he would leave me for another woman. Probably become an even bigger monster, and the thought frightened me even worse than the thought of him leaving. But that was one thing that he’d never do to me, even I, wallowing in insecurity as I was, knew that.

He shook his head with a wince. “I wouldn’t do that. I’m a coward, but not that much of a coward.” That was true, he did come out here in person to talk to me. “I think… we’re both trying too hard, aren’t we? Now that we’ve recovered from our journey, we’re trying to live life as if every day has to be the most special day of our lives.”

“But we’re together at last,” I said. “Doesn’t it?”

He smiled a tiny smile, still looking into my eyes. “Does it really? When I’m traveling by myself, do you really think every day is full of excitement and grand vistas and running away from bandits?”

I hadn’t thought about it that much. “I don’t know.”

“Well, it isn’t. And that’s okay. And when you were living on your own, just before I met you, you weren’t worried about impressing anyone. And maybe you were recovering from something awful, but you weren’t bored either, right?”

“Well…” I was, but… “It was…” It was overshadowed by the loneliness.

He looked down at his hands again. “We shouldn’t be worried about keeping each other entertained constantly. I think there’s still something between us, something good. Don’t you?”

“Yes,” I said slowly. “Having the stupidest of fights doesn’t change that. We need to reset things, though.”

He nodded, looking up at me again. “You’re still Lyn, daughter of Sacae, proud and beautiful and strong, and I’m still Ceniro, the quiet person with one very specific skill who supports you.”

“You’re Ceniro, the quiet, clever, intelligent person who loves the Earth and Sky,” I told him. “We are both good people, but we’re not used to being alone together. Even though I like it.”

“I like it too,” he said, with another little smile. “I have nothing to distract me from what’s important in life.”

“Mm.”

“By which I mean the world around me, and you.”

“I’d think you’d have enough of me for a little while.”

His face was hopeful. “You don’t know how much I love watching you, when you’re practicing your forms, or showing me things, or just moving around the ger doing stuff. And I was thinking, you’re right, maybe I should learn how to fight, even a little. I know how to defend myself with a staff, but knowing how to fight with a sword…”

“Are you sure?” I asked. “I didn’t mean it, I don’t actually mind that you can’t fight, I was just saying angry things…”

“I think it would be good,” he said. “You’ve shown me your training as part of your cultural overview, now teach me so that I almost die less often.”

I finally smiled back at him. “That’s a very persuasive argument. I’ll do that.”

“So… we try again? Without trying so very hard to impress each other?”

I nodded. “When I was learning to fight, I made many mistakes. Including ones from trying too hard. But my father just told me to pick up my sword and try again, no matter how many times it took, and I could feel in my bones it was worth the time, sweat, and tears to become an expert swordsman.”

“I have to agree,” Ceniro said. “Do you feel like that about us?”

“Yes. I feel it… deeper than my bones, really. We can have a long life together, and we can’t ruin it in the first month. We have to keep trying, keep learning, even keep making mistakes.” I looked at him anxiously. “But if I teach you my swordplay, will you teach me your patience? I think it will help a lot.”

“My patience?” He looked surprised.

“I have no idea what I’m doing,” I said ruefully. “I’ve just been charging ahead, pretending I do, imagining I do. That plan was a disaster. But you’ve always been the most patient person I’ve ever known, and I… I need you to be patient, because I’m so impatient… Teach me to be like you!”

“I have no idea what I’m doing either,” he said. “I’ve always thought you’re just fine as you are. You’re beautiful when you’re angry, did you know that?”

I made an upset face. “That’s not going to fly in the long run. Don’t enable me.” I’d already blown up at him twice and each time caused so much trouble.

He thought that over. “I guess I could try. But you don’t think I’m an expert in dealing with energetic princess girlfriends, do you?”

“That would imply you have more than one,” I retorted. “Which you better not.”

He laughed at last, and I felt so much better. “I do not. And I’m hoping you don’t have any other boyfriends, shy or otherwise.”

I snorted. “Absolutely not.”

My stomach chose that moment to rumble and I blushed.

Ceniro smiled at me. “Come on. After I found out it was actually my turn, I did dishes and I made dinner. Or at least something edible.”

“How are you so perfect?” I mock-grumbled, accepting his hand up to return to my horse and then home. He chuckled awkwardly.

 

The next day, I took him outside to begin sword training. I touched the Mani Katti in my sash, still sheathed. “Since the blade will only come from the sheath at my touch, that will make it a reasonable training weapon until I can get something proper. You won’t hurt anyone with this.”

“O-okay,” he said. He seemed nervous at the prospect of actually beginning this, but I could see the determination in his face as well. That was good. He wanted to stick with this; he wasn’t just doing it to please me.

“It’s going to be too heavy. But your first proper sword will then seem much lighter and make things a little easier. First, though, we have a lot of things to cover: namely, footing. Footwork is one of the most important things in katana fighting, and I think in Lycian longsword fighting as well. But I can’t teach you that style. Here is your base position.” I showed him.

I taught him a few things that day, beginning with footwork exercises. I also showed him how to hold a katana and the most basic swing. “You have to do a hundred of those every day at least.”

“A hundred!? But it’s just the same thing, it’s a basic thing…”

“You have to make it second nature,” I told him, as if it was the most obvious thing in the world – wasn’t it? “If this isn’t perfect, a natural motion of the extension of the arm, then anything else you build on it won’t work. I’m not doing things by halves, not with you.”

He nodded and started counting.

“Tomorrow it’ll be a hundred and ten,” I told him.

Our relationship was still a bit wobbly, still a bit cooler than before. But with this new project, I could feel it healing. And I didn’t try to fill up the silences anymore. At first I felt uncomfortable with it, since there had been a long time where the world was silent on the plains, but unlike then, I wasn’t alone, and that knowledge gradually eased away the past associations. And we began to smile at each other more often, and he kissed me more eagerly now, like he had before we came to Sacae.

The next time we went to a town for supplies, I picked up an inexpensive Iron-class katana. He was surprisingly excited to receive it, and I think he himself was surprised at his excitement.

After another couple weeks of drills, I started sparring with him. At first it took all my concentration not to go all-out, or even just to let my slowly-adjusting feelings out. On the other hand, he really had no idea what he was doing, how to turn the drills into actually fighting, and at first I stopped it frequently to try to explain what I was doing – the way he would explain his orders to us on the field. Except he explained things much better than I did. But it was an important part of his progress, this sparring, and he was working hard and learning fast. I held high standards for him, but I tried very hard to keep my impatience in check. I would be the worst teacher if I expected him to do everything perfectly immediately.

 

Only a few weeks later, after I failed at demonstrating the Sacaean tea ceremony – I still had things to show Ceniro, never fear – the farseer went off, and I heard the voice of Lord Pent.