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When Lightning wakes up from her catnap—it's about all the sleep she ever seems to want, these days, a quick nap here and there to give her the energy to keep moving—she finds Hope standing at the edge of the clearing, facing away from the camp, her Gladius in his hands. Lightning sits up, shading her eyes from the bright sun over Pulse so she can look around. The others aren't visible anywhere, but she can hear Vanille's laughter, so they can't be far.
Hope unfolds the gunblade carefully, with both hands, the same way he did with her knife. It looks like it still makes him a little nervous, which isn't all bad. A healthy respect for the weapon is a better place to start than unearned confidence. "Trying to teach yourself?" Lightning asks.
He jumps, almost dropping the blade. "Light!" he says. "I, um—sorry, I know you said I wasn't strong enough, but I just—well...."
Lightning gets her feet under her and rises smoothly. "Don't apologize," she says. "I didn't mean you'd never be able to handle a gunblade, you know. It just takes time to develop the strength and the skills." And maybe their time is limited, with their brands turning—no. She won't think like that. "We could get started, if you want to."
"Really?" Hope says. His face lights up with a brilliant smile, and Lightning thinks, I made him feel like that. Me. It's a strange thought—but it makes her feel warm, makes her feel like smiling too.
"Sure," she says, pushing the strangeness away. "But let's not start with that particular model." She goes through their cache of spare equipment, pulling out her Axis Blade. "Here. This one might be a little easier to use."
Hope sets the Gladius down carefully and takes the Axis Blade from her hands. "Feels a lot lighter," he says, taking an experimental swing.
Lightning nods. "It sacrifices a little power compared to a heavier model, but it's quicker to swing. And easier for someone who hasn't practiced much yet."
"Right," Hope says. "I can work up to a heavier one." He can hold out the Axis Blade one-handed, though his arm trembles a little. They won't want to overdo it on the first day. "Like this?"
"Close," Lightning says. "Here, adjust your grip a little—like this." She moves his hand, sliding it up the gunblade's grip to balance the weapon better. "Feel the difference?"
Hope nods. "Yeah," he says. "Got it."
Lightning steps back, reaching for the Razor Carbine she's been using lately. She snaps it open with an easy flick of the wrist, and has to smile at the admiring, wistful look that Hope gives her. "I can show you how to do that, too," she says. "First, though, let's work on your stance and a few basic moves."
Becoming l'Cie made all of them faster, stronger, more resilient. It might have been impossible to teach Hope to wield a full combat-weight gunblade otherwise, even one at the lighter end of the range. Now, between their l'Cie advantages and his stubborn determination, he just might manage. Lightning demonstrates the basic gunblade stance and then leads Hope through a few slow, controlled strokes with the blade. She thinks back to her own days at academy, training with her own first gunblade: it was important, her instructors said, to learn to use each part of the weapon separately before trying to combine the skills.
Hope pays close attention, and he's doing a pretty good job of picking up the important parts. Probably training for tournaments with the boomerang taught him to watch the nuances of position. Still, sometimes there are little details you can't pick up just by watching.
"Here," Lightning says. She sheathes her own blade and comes to stand behind Hope, left hand on his hip to guide him, right hand closing over his on the gunblade's hilt. "Like this."
His breath stutters, and he shivers in her arms. He's tense all of a sudden, where before he had pretty decent form.
"Hope?" Lightning says. She finds herself noticing the difference between the heat of the sun on her back and the heat of his body in her arms.
"Light," he says, turning to look at her. His eyes meet hers for a second and then flicker down. He licks his lips. The air seems heavier than it did a minute ago, charged—
Snow's voice carries from down the valley. "Come on," he's saying. "If that wasn't heroic—"
"Please," Fang interrupts him, nearly as loud, equally playful. "You want to be called a hero for catching us dinner?"
Lightning steps away from Hope before they can come into view. "We'll...continue this later," she says, and she doesn't think she means the gunblade lessons. "I promise."
"Okay," Hope says. He swallows hard, and his smile looks nervous but it's wonderful. "Good."