Work Text:
Despite the empty void in his chest from the loss of his Warlock magic there was a new strange warmth in his chest. Fjord had ripped out the evil thorn of Uk’otoa. Was he free now? Is this what he wanted?
His greatest fear was that the Mighty Nein would despise his weakness and his lies. He had expected them to abandon him. Now he sat contemplating his recent gifts. Jester’s magic axe and whip rested on his lap, Caleb’s fire glove on his fist, a dagger from Nott on his belt and a shield he did not really need from Caduceus at his side. They had all gathered around him offering their support.
He did not know what was going to happen next. Caduceus was putting all his faith in his broken sword and the Wildmother and Fjord wanted to share his hopes, but his constant doubts haunted him still. He was weak, he knew it. It was his weakness that brought him into Uk’otoa’s hands to begin with.
His contemplation was disturbed by the crunch of gravel behind him. He looked up alarmed, jumping to his feet, gripping his axe and holding out the glove of blasting. There was Beau, looking startled by his reaction, holding her arms up in apology.
“Dude… sorry… I just… um… I didn’t mean to startle you.”
“Beau.” said Fjord, slowly trying to regain his cool - as his first mate lost hers in her embarrassment. “What’s wrong?”
Beau took a breath. Her nose wrinkling slightly at the unfamiliarity of his real accent.
“I-I-I feel bad I had nothing to help and I was thinking…” She trailed off struggling to find her words.
“Beau?” Fjord prompted.
“Do you want to fight… spar… A sparring partner? I was thinking maybe… in case you are rusty. Now you don’t have magic I could maybe help with training… You fought before you ate the magic sword, right? As a sailor?”
“Sure.” said Fjord.
Beau took another breath, finally looking up to meet his eye. She looked a little relieved that her suggestion hadn’t been completely dismissed and her words came faster with more confidence.
“An axe isn’t the same as a sword and it can take some time to master. If you want practice I’m here. Us non – like – magic users have to stick together, right?”
“Right now?” Fjord asked.
Beau shrugged, her hard, constant scowl, softening slightly.
“Sure… I found a good beach just beyond the lava flow, looked a good spot for sparring.”
Fjord looked at the axe, an unfamiliar weight in his fist.
“I’d like that.”
…
They didn’t fight right away. Beau was surprisingly professional marking out a training circle on the gravel beach and then she had him work through his hold and stance. It took him back to his days as a sailor, running sword drills on the deck with his crewmates.
Once she seemed satisfied, they squared up.
“Try to hit me, if you can.” she said plainly. “We won’t be trying to hurt each other, just knock the opponent from the ring.
Fjord looked down at his friend. The young awkward human woman who struggled to express herself but has always had his back… Had clutched him away from certain death at the risk of her own life.
“Beau.” said Fjord. “thanks for this.”
“No problem Captain.” She said.
Fjord paused, filled with seriousness.
“You’re not mad that I lied?”
“No dude. I totally get that. You’ve got to protect yourself. A liar doesn’t judge another liar.”
“But I know you value honesty, Beau.”
Beau scrunched up her face as she fought for the right words.
“But you didn’t lie about helping me to, like, talk to people… You didn’t lie about being my captain… You didn’t lie as we fought side by side… You didn’t lie about the good stuff. Just how you talk and… like… that’s it right?” There was a pause. “Man, faking an accent for so long that must have been exhausting… That is dedication to a lie and I can admire that, man.”
“Thanks,” said Fjord crisply. “And thanks, Beau I appreciate this.”
As a grin widened on her usually stoic face Beau took a martial stance that looked vaguely familiar.
He gripped the axe, and he held Caduceus’ shield against his side.
“Come on Fjord, lets go. And don’t be afraid to hurt me. I can take it.”
Fjord charged forward and swung.
Beau stepped cleanly away and swung her own fist.
Fjord swept up his shield for protect himself but she reached easily past his defence and just gave him a light tap to his side; his own momentum sending him out of the ring.
She stepped back with a nod.
“Again.” she said squaring up.
They danced around each other for an hour or so. Without the magic, fighting was tiring but his orc blood kept him battling. He’d hit Beau once or twice but most of the time she dodged his blows and pushed him from the ring. Any axe strike that did hit was just a nick, but she had shaken off the pain and ignored the blood and just kept fighting. Her own strikes came in fast but just tapped him lightly not really trying to strike him back. Gradually he got better at finding his rhythm, got better at planting his defence; his old sailor’s grit coming to the fore.
Beau knocked his chin with her fist and Fjord struck back with his shield pushing her back towards the edge of the ring and swung his axe expecting her to step back finally seeing a chance to trick her from the ring. But he was, for the first time, quicker than Beau. It was an unlucky blow. The axe dug deep into Beau’s side.
This time she did stumble, clutching her wound and hopping away.
“Ow! Ow… fuck… ow! Okay I think we’re done for the day.”
Fjord dropped the axe and caught her elbow.
“Sorry. Lucky hit.”
“Right.” said Beau through gritted teeth. “No problem. I’m fine - it’s fine. I’ve had worse. And we’ll need that luck.”
Fjord sighed, filled with an odd contentment that he hadn’t really felt for a long time.
“You are a good friend, Beau.”
Beau shook her head and patted his shoulder awkwardly with a bloody hand.
“Nah. I’m a piece of shit. But I can fight… And now so can you it seems.”