Chapter Text
Okay, today was the day. Sparring day. Because Siffrin was nice enough to actually agree to fight you, even though he could totally destroy you in seconds. You’d picked up some good quality training weapons in the last big city you were in – two rapiers and two daggers. Having them paired like that had also given you the idea to try and teach each other your respective weapons, but you hadn’t brought the idea up yet since you didn’t want to push your luck.
The location wasn’t the best – just a patch of nearby forest that was a bit more spacious – but it would have to do. Not much prep work had been done since this was very spur of the moment, with you approaching Siffrin an hour after lunch having finally mustered enough of your courage to ask them out here to spar, but you’d at least had the foresight to grab a first-aid kit for any possible injuries not suited to Craft healing, and hash out a basic points system.
Siffrin stood opposite you, looking smaller than usual without his cloak, and drew his sparring dagger, spinning it around fast enough that you were sure he’d get cut despite its bluntness. Not to be outdone, you drew your own rapier with a comparable level of flourish, your blade blurring through the air. Siffrin smiled at you as you both settled into similar fighting stances, blades held in front of you, legs bent, off-hand brought up to—
“Oh, wait,” you said, tucking your right arm behind your back, “we should be careful to not use Craft, since we don’t have any protections.”
Siffrin looked almost panicked for a moment, so brief you couldn’t be sure you weren’t making it up, and tucked his own arm behind his back. Mirroring you with their dagger in their left hand. You forgot, sometimes, that he was ambidextrous. You took a deep breath in through your nose, and slowly out through your mouth. Then you locked eyes with Siffrin, and nodded.
They wasted no time, practically flying across the space between you, feet barely touching the ground. Muscle memory took over even as your mind reeled, and you extended your blade to let him run himself into it, but he spun at the last second, avoiding it and ending up on your side. You whipped your blade at them. It whistled and blurred, and somehow missed Siffrin entirely.
The ground met your back before you’d even realised you were falling, and Siffrin’s dagger was placed gently on your chest.
“I didn’t hurt you, did I?” Siffrin asked as he helped you back to your feet.
“Not at all,” you grinned, “I’ve been thrown harder than that in classes before.” Though, the floor had been padded mats in class, not hard dirt.
You squared off again, and this time you struck first, throwing yourself into a deep lunge to cover as much distance as possible. Siffrin narrowly avoided the thrust, stumbling over their own feet a little in surprise. A smile found its way to your face. You could feel it there, unsummoned, but not unwelcome. It had been ages since you’d had proper fun like this, just messing around with a friend without having to worry about anything. Sure, this was training, but it was fun as well. You were messing around, goofing off hitting each other with sticks in the woods, you were playing!
Siffrin was smiling now as well, even as he swayed away from your attacks. When was the last time they’d done something like this? Could he even remember? Right then and there you swore that you would make sure Siffrin had as much fun as you, that you would make this worth their while.
You know, for someone with no depth perception he was really good at dodging, but he was making a rookie mistake. You’d made it yourself once upon a time: tunnel vision. Every time your blade got a bit too close, they’d turn their head to track it better, and you could tell their focus was on the blade even when you disengaged. You could slowly sway your blade back and forth and watch him track it. There was no way to know if they were tricking you without trying, and fortune favours the bold.
Your back foot slowly slid forwards, until it was almost touching your front foot. No reaction from Siffrin, not even a flick of his eye. You lunged, covering as much ground as possible and striking the padded tip of your rapier into the meaty part of their shoulder. The force of the blow spun him about slightly. Before you could even think to check they were okay, they shifted the momentum into a full spin and hopped backwards.
“Is my shoulder a body shot or a limb shot?” he asked, probing the area with his fingers, wincing.
“I… don’t know. What does it feel like?”
“It feels like a body shot. I can definitely feel it in my chest more than my arm.”
“Two to two, then.”
You were starting to get a handle on each other, and the fight quickly fell into a steady rhythm, becoming harder and harder to score points. Slowly and steadily, you managed to gain the lead. Four to three in your favour, though any one blow could still have either of you win. Siffrin kept ramping up the pace, running around and weaving throughout the trees as you chased them. You became fully focused on the chase, too focused. Barrelling around a tree, you lost sight of him for only a second, and then, much like the start of the fight, you were on the ground before you knew you’d been tripped, and a dagger was pressed into your side.
Breathing heavily – much more so than Siffrin was – you picked yourself up, tried to get your breathing under control.
“That was fun,” you eventually panted, still smiling in spite of your dirty clothes and scuffed hands.
“Yeah, I can see why you asked to do it. I don’t really know what I was expecting, but this is awesome,” said Siffrin, who had already got his breathing back to almost normal.
“Want a rematch?” you asked. It was a long shot, but you were having too much fun to care.
Siffrin didn’t answer, just tossed their dagger to their other hand and settled back into their stance, a toothy grin on their face.
And so you rematched, and again, and again, and again, until the sky started to dim, and hunger commanded you to seek food. The score settled at five to three, in Siffrin’s favour. He really had you early on, but you started doing better and better as it went on, really finding your stride. It especially helped when you stopped chasing him so much, conserved your energy, and made him come to you.
Now though, you were both exhausted, and sore, and covered in bruises and dirt.
“Oh, stars,” Siffrin groaned, stretching their arms above their head.
“Come here,” you said, after sheathing your sword. You held your arms out and beckoned Siffrin over for a hug.
Siffrin dragged himself over with stiff movements and fell into your arms without complaint. Immediately, you sent Healing Craft flowing through them, feeling them melt into you as the bruises and small cuts all washed away. Then you had to stop.
“Hmmm? Why’d you stop?”
“If I heal your muscles, you won’t actually get any stronger.”
“Really?”
“Really.”
“That sucks.”
“I know, but I also know some great massages that I learned at the House. You’ll feel brand new.”
Siffrin went quiet, squeezed you a bit tighter, and applied his own Healing Craft. It tingled, like it was fizzy, which was a weird comparison but also the best one you had. It was like how a fizzy drink felt, but all over your body. It also perked you up a bit, like a small shot of energy. Their healing took longer to work than yours, and whilst it was doing its thing, Siffrin spoke again.
“I think that would feel too weird for me,” he said, “but if you show me how to do it, I’ll do it for you.”
“Are you sure? You’ll going to be so sore tomorrow after this.”
They stepped back and smiled at you. “Eh, I’m sure I’ll be fine.”
“Good morning, Siffrin!” you said as you sat for breakfast. You grunted as you sat; your back was still sore from all those falls. Siffrin had his head in his arms on the table. “How are you feeling?”
Siffrin moaned wordlessly.
“Would you like to try that massage?”
A single, weakly raised thumb answered you.