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Grime’s hurt and there’s nothing Sasha can do about it. She didn’t even see what happened, exactly - all she had was a shouted warning and the feeling of being shoved to the side, and Grime was in the jaws of some giant serpent and being shook from side to side the way that dogs shake toys until Sasha’s presence of mind returned to her and she jammed her sword into its flank, causing it to drop Grime. His body bounced from the impact, rolled a few feet and lay very still. Sasha had turned on the serpent, who had hissed again and fled, taking her sword with it. Sasha started to chase after it - it had her sword - but then she’d remembered Grime and turned around, dashed to his side.
On inspection, Grime’s armor seems to have kept him from being completely torn apart - but he’s breathing shallow and there’s a raggedness to his inhale that she thinks might be internal damage. She’s not sure she can move him - not until she knows for sure his bones are intact, at any rate. Panic begins to build in her chest and she battles it back, slaps Grime’s face gently.
“Grime? Can you hear me?” Her voice is shaky, and she hates herself for it, so she takes a moment to gather herself and repeats. “Grime, if you can hear me, give me a sign.”
There’s no response. Sasha curses the serpent, curses her luck, curses Grime for being hurt. This was supposed to be an easy job - a small farming town had a serpent problem, Grime and Sasha volunteered to take care of it in exchange for food and a place to stay. Also, Sasha had argued that it would help build their reputation if they didn’t demand further payment, though now she’s thinking she’ll add medical care to the price.
Of course, getting Grime help means she’s got to finish the job first. The serpent took her sword too, and the feeling of its absence is almost as painful as the dread of Grime potentially not making it through this.
Repairs to Toad Tower are underway, and Sasha has been training with some of the Toad Army soldiers - building a rapport and learning to swing a sword with a little more purpose than she’s done previously. Sasha takes to swordplay like a duck (or a frog, she supposes) to water. Either that or the soldiers she’s training with aren’t very good, because without much trouble she’s besting them in training duels and barely breaking a sweat. So when she sees Grime training one evening, she spends some time watching him before approaching and asking if he’d spar with her. Grime looks at her for a moment, and then agrees. Sasha, feeling pretty confident in her abilities, grabs one of the training swords and charges as soon as Grime indicates he’s ready.
He kicks her ass.
Her first priority is to make sure Grime doesn’t die. She isn’t sure what’s wrong with him, and that makes her hesitant to really move him, but she doesn’t feel like she has a choice. She spots a hollowed out stump that’ll serve as some kind of protection and returns to Grime’s side. His body is dead weight, and if he wasn’t still breathing she’d swear he was already dead. With a surge of strength, she lifts Grime like he weighs no more than a feather and carries him to the stump. She sets him down as gently as she can, her blood freezing when Grime’s breath catches for a moment.
“I’ll be back for you.” Sasha says, giving his hand a squeeze. “Just hang in there.”
The lack of response from Grime does not fill her with confidence. She doesn’t have any more time to spend worrying though - she needs to pursue the serpent’s trail, find it, take it down somehow , and get her sword back. Fortunately, the trail is pretty clear - it’s a big snake and it’s in pain, so even Sasha’s limited experience at tracking is able to follow along. Her breath comes easily as she runs, and she can feel her heart pounding, but if there’s one thing Sasha’s always had, it’s physical fitness. Strength, after all, is how she keeps her friends safe - physical strength to beat the shit out of bullies, and strength of will to keep them together and make the choices they might not make. Sasha’s determined to inscribe her will upon the world, and the world will break before she does. If that means she has to rip this giant serpent apart with her two hands, she’ll do it. If it means forcing her way into whatever the fuck the Toad afterlife is to drag Grime back out, well, she’ll do that too. Grime’s all she has. She can’t lose him.
“How did you do that?” Sasha says, picking herself up off the ground again with a groan. She’s been training with Grime for the last week, and she still can’t manage to get the best of him. “I’m faster than you.”
Grime nods. “You are. You may be stronger than me as well.” Sasha charges him again and feints to one side, but Grime doesn’t fall for it. He catches her sword with the crossguard of his own and sends it spinning off into the dirt, while sweeping low and knocking Sasha off her feet again. He squats next to her, looking more toadlike than she’s ever seen him before. “But speed and strength are not all there is to fighting. In fact, the best way to defeat a stronger and faster opponent is to turn their own speed and strength against them.”
The trail ends outside an ominous cave, which does not make Sasha feel especially good about her odds of success. Caves are dark - so her choice is to stumble around blindly (or half-blindly, depending on how deep in the cave the serpent’s gone) or announce her presence with a torch. Neither is appealing, but she opts for better vision and pulls a small torch out of a pouch on her belt. She takes a deep breath, steadies herself, and walks into the cave.
There’s the faint sound of water echoing in the distance, and the cave floor shows signs of the serpent’s passage before the dirt gives way to stone, which is far less willing to give up its secrets. A few smears of blood, however, serve to let her know she’s on the right track. Sasha’s senses are on high alert, but she does not realize just how quiet a serpent can be. If not for the subtle scrape of metal on stone caused by her sword, she’d never hear the strike coming. As it is, she has about two seconds to dive out of the way of the strike, which saves her, but also causes her torch to clatter on the ground where it gutters and goes out, leaving Sasha in the dark. At least I know where the fucking thing is now , she thinks, and leaps on the serpent’s back. It rears and bucks, trying to dislodge her, but Sasha moves with it, staying just close enough to the head that it can’t simply bite her. It does , however, slam into the walls of the cave in an attempt to dislodge Sasha that nearly works. She grits her teeth and holds on, and the next time it whips toward the wall (or where she thinks the wall is, anyway - it’s difficult to see anything in the gloom and having the torch so suddenly extinguished hasn’t done her vision any favors either) she rolls off and relishes the howl of rage as the serpent bruises itself against the rocks. She needs her sword - needs to make her way to wherever it’s lodged in the serpent’s body, or this fight isn’t going to be much of a fight at all. Why hadn’t she brought Grime’s hammer with her?
Grime gestures at two swords laying on a table. “Which of these two swords is better?”
Sasha looks at him, nonplussed. “They’re the same sword, Grime.”
“Wrong, Lieutenant .” Grime says, stressing her title. “No two blades are alike. One of these blades is better than the other.”
Sasha takes a deep breath and leans in to peer more closely at one of the blades. “Is it… something to do with how they were made? Like, one is, I don’t know, sturdier than the other?”
“That could be it,” Grime agrees, “but both these were made using the same technique. So it is not.”
Sasha makes a noise that is half thoughtful, half annoyed. She paces around the table to look at the other one, reaches out and picks it up. Grime grins widely, and Sasha raises an eyebrow. “It’s this one?”
“Yes.” Grime says. “That is the better blade for you.”
“But…” Sasha huffs, feels a little frustrated and a little embarrassed, the way she always felt when she didn’t know an answer in class. “ Why is this better? I just picked it up! I don’t know why it’s good or not.”
“It is the best blade for you,” Grime says, “because it is the blade in your hand right now.”
“What, is this some kind of dumb fucking joke, Captain? ” Sasha says, angry. “You’ve spent all this time telling me how important it is to choose the right sword, to treat it like an extension of myself, like it’s got a part of my soul in it, and now you’re telling me the best sword is just the one I happen to be holding at the time?”
“Yes.” Grime says, in an absolutely infuriating tone. “The best blade is the one you have. Your sword is your life and your soul, and you should care for it as such. Your sword is also nothing more than a hunk of sharp metal that you should not care about at all.”
“That doesn’t make any sense!” Sasha complains.
“Both things are true.” Grime shrugs. “Such contradictions are part of the riddle of steel.”
Sasha thinks that’s incredibly stupid, but Grime seems to think it’s important to understand, so she nods and sheathes the sword. “Okay, so now that I know what the better blade is, what do we do now?”
Grime smiles and picks up the other blade. “Now, we fight!” He kicks the table over, sending it flying in Sasha’s direction, and charges.
Sasha screams in pain as the serpent’s teeth rip out a chunk of her arm. She isn’t fast enough, the thing’s stronger than her, she can’t find her sword. Fear floods her system. She’s going to die. She’s going to die . She’s not supposed to die! She can’t die. Can’t leave Grime alone in the forest. Can’t leave Anne mad at her - can’t leave Marcy lost.
“No.” Sasha mutters, and even though she can feel the blood running down her arm, even though she feels coils begin to wrap around her, there’s a surge of something else - rage. Sasha roars, and flexes, and breaks free. A faint pinkish light gleams from the corner - her sword. Her sword . She sprints faster than she’s ever moved before and as soon as her hand closes around its hilt, she feels a surge of newfound strength.
“Okay you scaly piece of shit,” Sasha says, and even with one arm hanging useless at her side she laughs, “it’s time to have some fun.”
She doesn’t notice that it’s suddenly bright as daylight in the cave, she’s only concerned with destroying this creature in front of her. The serpent regards her, eyes glittering, and lunges with blinding speed. Sasha spins to the side in a pirouette, feeling a blast of hot breath from its open maw and whips her sword around and down in a chopping motion. There’s a gout of blood and the cave shakes with the creature’s death throes, its head hanging on by a thread, muscular coils thrashing mindlessly. Sasha goes flying into the cave wall and cracks her head against the stone. She sees stars, then, nothing.
A month before the disastrous attempt to quash the Wartwood rebellion, Sasha finally beats Grime in a sparring session. She was already strong before she ended up in Amphibia, but now she has a bulkier strength. Her shoulders have filled out - arms too. Her feet, nimble from years of cheerleading, have grown faster as well. Most importantly, however, she’s gotten more cunning in a fight, and she manages to goad Grime into overextending. Her gauntleted hand shoots out and slaps his sword down, its momentum sending the point into the dirt, then twirls around behind him and brings her blade up to his throat. Grime’s eyes widen, then, knowing he’s been beaten, he taps her arm in surrender.
As soon as Sasha lowers her blade, Grime spins around and claps her on the back, beaming. “ Excellent work, Lieutenant! A fantastic use of my own momentum against me.”
Something swells in Sasha’s chest at the praise - pride, yes, but also gratitude to Grime for all he’s done so far - and she matches Grime’s smile with one of her own. “Thank you Captain.”
“Wait here,” Grime says, “I will be right back.”
He dashes off, leaving Sasha in the training grounds to contemplate her victory.
Sasha regains consciousness slowly and shakes her head to clear it of the remaining dizziness. It is dark inside the cavern, but she can see just well enough to find her dropped torch and relight it. The corpse of the serpent is before her, its eyes clouded in death. Sasha severs the last of the meat connecting the head to the body and ties a rope around its fangs. She drags the head behind her, feeling battered and exhausted but alive . The euphoria of victory almost makes her forget that she left Grime unconscious in a tree stump, but as soon as she exits the cavern it all comes back to her.
The head is heavy, and she’s tired, but she grits her teeth and keeps walking. She needs the head as proof, and she needs proof so she can get payment from the townsfolk. Her foot catches on a root and she falls and cries out in pain. The wound on her arm re-opens when she lands, and she feels a trickle of blood beginning to run down to her hand. It can wait. It all has to wait until she can get to Grime. Sasha’s not entirely certain when Grime became so important to her - saving her at the tower, certainly, but it runs deeper than that. Grime taught her how to fight, and while Sasha’s definitely taught him a few tricks about manipulation, there’s no denying he’s helped her find a sort emotional stability - mostly through giving her things to fight that helped work out some of her aggression, but he’s been able to say the right thing to snap her out of a funk too. He’s a source of support that Sasha, when she’s being honest with herself, never got back home from anyone not named Anne or Marcy.
The sun has started to set by the time Sasha gets back to where she’d left Grime. She isn’t entirely certain how much time passed, but she drops the rope she’s been using to drag the head and rushes for the stump. Grime is still there - not only that, but he’s sat up and has his hammer by him ( that’s why she’d left it, she thinks, so that Grime could defend himself if he had to). Sasha feels a surge of relief so strong she feels like she might fall over again, but she stumbles the final few meters between them and sinks to her knees by his side.
“Grime? You okay?”
Grime’s eyes, which were half-open, open the rest of the way. “Ah, there you are, Lieutenant.” His breathing seems steady, Sasha notes, but he winces in pain as he does so. Grime leans to the side and peers past Sasha at the head of the serpent, and his eyes widen. “I see you took care of the job while I was indisposed.”
Sasha shrugs, then winces as her arm complains. “Figured it would help the townsfolk treat your wounds if we showed up successful rather than, you know, just me carrying you back with the serpent still at large.”
Grime frowns, and Sasha unconsciously flinches, expecting a rebuke. “I think you’re underestimating the generosity of the average frog, but I suppose I might have made the same choice.” He gives Sasha a once-over, and his eyes widen in shock. “Sasha, your arm-”
“Is fine, trust me.” Sasha replies. “Not as bad as it looks.”
Grime clearly doesn’t believe her, because he begins rummaging through his pack for bandages. “We’re not going anywhere until I’ve had a look at it.”
Sasha knows from Grime’s tone of voice that he’s going to be stubborn about this, and that she can either argue with Grime, potentially aggravating his own wounds in the process, or she can submit. Sasha has never backed down from a fight in her life, but she backs down from this one and lets Grime pour water over the wound to clean it. It stings and she hisses, and Grime shoots her a concerned look. When he continues, it is with even more care than before.
“Hmm.” He says, after he’s covered the wound with bandages. “This is going to leave a scar, Lieutenant.” There’s amusement in his eyes as he adds, “I am told the ladies find scars very attractive.”
Sasha blushes in spite of herself, but plays it off as annoyance. “Whatever, Grime.”
Grime comes back carrying a long case that he presents to Sasha with a flourish.
“A reward,” Grime says, “for your first victory against me. I’ve been holding on to it for a while, to be honest, but you’ve more than earned it now.”
Sasha is used to getting gifts, and even more used to people giving her gifts as a way to earn her loyalty or affection - that’s Parenting 101 as far as she’s experienced - which is why it’s strange that she’s actually excited about this gift. Maybe because she’s earned it, she thinks. “Grimesy,” she says, delighted, “you shouldn’t have!”
“Open it,” Grime says, “I want to know if it suits you or not.”
Sasha pops the clasp on the case, opens it up, and gasps. Inside is a sword - beautiful rose-red steel with an ornate heron hilt. She reaches in and picks it up, tests its weight.
“It’s… perfect.” She whispers, and it takes everything she has not to start crying. “Thank you.”
“As I said, you earned it.” Grime says, and puts a hand on her shoulder. “I am proud of you, Sasha.”
Sasha has to look away, because otherwise she’ll start crying. Never, not once in her life, has any adult ever told her they were proud of her. “I… thanks, Grimesy. That um… that means a lot.”
The trip back to town takes a long time. Grime insists on helping drag the head, which allows Sasha to give her wounded arm a bit of a break but also means they’re moving at the pace of a toad with potentially severe damage to his ribs. It is night by the time they get back to town, where they are greeted by a very impressed looking town representative.
“Well, you certainly seem to have uh…. Taken care of the issue, I see.”
“My companion and I could use some medical assistance.” Grime says, gesturing to the bandaged arm and, Sasha thinks, playing up his own wounds a little bit more. “It was not an easy fight.”
“Of course! Anything you need! Our town is in your debt!”
Sasha shares a look with Grime, and steps forward. “Somewhere to sleep and recover will be more than enough payment, thank you.”
The next day, there’s a grand celebration to fete the heroes of the hour - that would be Sasha and Grime - and the two show up covered in bandages but smiling and waving and saying “thank you” a lot. It’s not the first job they’ve accomplished, but it is the first that gives them their first big lead on where Marcy is - a newt pulls Grime aside and mentions they’ve seen another creature like Sasha: in Newtopia, no less.
“Well,” Grime says later, after informing Sasha of this important fact, “at least when we overthrow the government she’ll be easy to find, right?”
[A vision of a possible future: Marcy runs curious fingers along Sasha’s shoulder where a jagged scar stands out on her skin. Sasha tries not to shiver at the touch and fails miserably.
A smirk flickers across Marcy’s face for a moment, “How’d this happen?” she asks, curious.
“You know,” Sasha replies, turning and fixing Marcy with a look that pins her to the spot, “I don’t really remember. Grime and I got into a lot of fights after Toad Tower.”
“Should I kiss it and make it better?” Marcy asks, and Sasha is astonished that Marcy’s learned to flirt, but maybe being dead had given some kind of insight into how to fluster the hell out of her.
When Anne walks in a few minutes later, she takes a moment to admire the scene before teasing the hell out of them both.]