Work Text:
Standing on the outskirts of the clearing, Jesse’s heart beat nervously, the wooden staff in her hands feeling light in some ways and heavy in others. Parallel to her was Petra, pacing about with a lightness and self-assuredness that made the Hero both envious and anxious.
Jesse had barely convinced Petra to agree to this, but the moment she’d taken hold of her staff, it was obvious that her hesitance had melted away. Things like this were clearly a thrill for Petra: fighting, getting roughed up, being challenged. The only reason she had really considered denying Jesse’s request for a lesson was because she didn’t want to hurt her. But Jesse needed the practice. And it wasn’t like she knew a better fighter. Or wanted one.
“You’re already holding it wrong,” Petra spoke, voice somewhat teasing. “You’re holding it like a sword.”
Jesse blinked and stared down at her hands, adjusting her grip in a way that was probably also wrong given how Petra started laughing. She rolled her eyes playfully as Petra stepped closer, a smile tugging at her lips. “Sorry I like hacking through things.”
“How could anyone forget,” Petra teased. Suddenly, the ginger rested a hand atop one of Jesse’s, prompting her to tense up. “Here, like this.”
Jesse’s stomach flipped as calloused fingers brushed against her own. Petra gently guided one of Jesse’s hands further down the staff until there was at least a few inches between each of them. She then patted the same hand affirmingly. “There. You’ve always gotta balance the staff in your hands. Gives you more options. And you can block shots that way,” Petra explained, her eyes locked onto Jesse’s to ensure that she was being heard. “Got it?”
Jesse took a second longer than normal to respond. “Y- Yeah. Got it.” She nodded.
“Good,” Petra took up her own staff once more, moving back until there were at least a few feet between them. “Ready?”
Jesse matched her stance, embracing its unfamiliarity with confidence. Her eyes bore into Petra’s, her nerves failing to settle. I can do this. “Ready.”
With that, Petra took two long, swift strides towards Jesse in a practiced attack, the end of her staff already flying at Jesse’s face. The Hero barely blocked it in time, the shock of the blow vibrating through her arms. Stunned, Jesse caught the resulting smirk on Petra’s face and she let out a stuttering breath.
Damn. It immediately became obvious that Petra was quick, her talents obviously honed by years of practice. It was one thing to see Petra in action from the sidelines throughout their months of adventures together, but being on the recieving end of it really put things into perspective.
“See what I meant earlier?” Petra spoke, albeit a bit strained as she continued to push against Jesse’s staff. The brunette huffed, knowing that Petra was referring to her ability to block with the center of her staff. Despite feeling a bit strange, it did make sense, and the newly acquired knowledge made her worries waver. However, her eyes squinted as she continued to hold up against Petra’s attack, the warrior clearly pushing to see how much Jesse could handle.
The warrior eventually let up with a slightly harder push, making space between them and leaving both girls to turn and reset, with one clearly more out of breath than the other.
“You could’ve countered my attack in those five seconds you spent staring at me, y’know.”
The unexpected words made Jesse’s cheeks grow warm. She’s just messing with you. “…I wasn’t,” she insisted.
“Uh huh,” Petra chuckled, rolling her neck. As she did so, Jesse’s eyes started to wander.
Petra’s sleeves were hiked up each arm, and Jesse couldn’t help but notice how the defined muscle in both flexed subtly with each movement Petra made. She was lean, and so strong…geez. Jesse had always noticed of course, but it kinda sucked to notice when you were trying to win a sparring match.
Realizing that Petra was waiting, Jesse forced her thoughts to the side and took a large step forward, willing herself to aim a swift jab toward Petra’s midsection. It was, of course, deflected instantly. As the crack of wood reverberated through the clearing, Petra tilted her head, a few strands of red hair falling over her face. “You call that an attack? I’ll be asleep before you land a hit.”
Jesse furrowed her brows. Petra was doing this on purpose. Fueling the fire to make the challenge more, well, challenging. “Shut up,” she muttered back, her jaw hardening as she struck again, this time aiming for Petra’s legs.
Petra blocked the strike with another crack, and Jesse’s breath caught for reasons that had nothing to do with exertion. Petra wasn’t even winded, but her cheeks were flushed from the movement. Her confidence made Jesse feel all…fuzzy.
No. No, Jesse thought, shaking her head as if that would dispel the thought. She was just admiring Petra’s skill. That’s all it was. She swung again, trying to shake the distraction, but Petra parried this time, blocking the strike with ease; she then stepped forward little ways, positioning the end of her staff just beneath Jesse’s chin. Her breath hitched.
“Aaaaand you're dead,” Petra grinned. “You lose.”
Jesse groaned, falling back a few steps and dragging the back of her hand across her forehead. “Ugh. You’re too quick.”
“I try,” Petra replied, though her grin softened as she dropped her weapon to the ground. After watching Jesse reposition herself, she spoke gently. “You’re not bad, Jesse. You’ve got the instincts for it. You just…” She suddenly walked closer, closing the distance between them. Jesse, caught off guard, went completely rigid as each of Petra’s hands went to adjust her grip on the staff again. “…need to stop doing this.”
Jesse hadn’t even realized that she’d gone back to holding the staff wrong. She watched as Petra fixed the distance between her hands once more. Jesse’s pulse quickened, and she blamed it entirely on exertion this time.
“This feel alright?” Petra murmured.
Jesse looked up, back down, then frowned, twisting the staff within her grip. “No.”
Petra stepped back, thankfully (or not thankfully, Jesse couldn’t decide) and tilted her head to survey her. “Good. ‘Cause it looks right. Perfect, actually.”
“Perfect? That’s a pretty high bar,” Jesse quipped somewhat forcefully, trying to focus on anything other than the ache in her chest that stemmed from Petra looking at her like that.
“High bars are the only ones worth reaching for,” Petra answered with a shrug, retrieving her staff casually. As she did so, she seemed to barely catch a shift in Jesse’s expression out of the corner of her eye, and the smirk she wore deepened just slightly. Jesse cursed herself. “You uh…sure you’re up for another round? You almost look like you’re through with this.”
Jesse bristled instantly. Her pride didn’t like the implications there. She scoffed, keeping a playful edge to her tone. “I can handle it.”
“…Okay, okay.” Petra shot back, turning to face her best friend. “Prove it, then.”
And just like that, she was moving again. Jesse mirrored her the best she could.
They clashed similarly to how they had before, their pace staying consistent as they went, though Petra was blocking less and parrying more now. To her thrill, Jesse found herself almost landing a hit more than once. Almost. But every time, Petra blocked her—and every time, that same mix of admiration and something Jesse didn’t want to name tightened in her chest. Petra was just too good. Which is to be expected, of course, but…something has always been different about her.
Petra’s laugh broke through the clearing when Jesse tripped over her own feet at one point, catching herself with an awkward swing of her staff. “Whoa! Careful there,” Petra teased. “I don’t want you faceplanting before I’ve had a chance to beat you.”
“Oh, you’re hilarious,” Jesse shot back irritably, though her cheeks burned as she steadied herself.
Petra arched an eyebrow, sweat glistening faintly at her temple. “Hey, I’m just saying—”
She didn’t get to finish as Jesse suddenly lunged with a burst of speed, her staff cutting toward Petra’s shoulder. This time, Petra only barely blocked it, the resulting CRACK even louder than the others.
For a moment, they were close, too close, and Jesse could feel the heat of Petra’s breath, mingling with her own. Green eyes bore into deep brown; Jesse felt her heartrate start to pick up.
“Well,” Petra murmured, her expression proud, “you’re learning.”
Jesse blinked, her mouth going dry as she struggled with a response. “You’re uh… a good teacher.”
Petra’s signature smirk returned, but it was gentler this time. “Flattery gets you nowhere,” she joked.
Their gazes lingered, and Jesse felt something shift, an awareness she’d been stubbornly pushing down since they started. Of the two of them, she glanced away first, taking a few steps back. “Okay,” she muttered, “one more round, and then I think I’ll call it.”
“Pff.” Petra chuckled, “We call it when one of us wins.” Her tone was playful, but there was something in her eyes Jesse couldn’t quite place. She chose to ignore it.
“Right,” Jesse responded uncertainly, bracing herself. Her heart hammered against her ribs, and she blamed the exercise. Blamed the sweat, blamed the heat. It wasn’t Petra’s teasing. Or her skills. Or her arms. Or the way her hair stuck to her temples, or the way her voice rasped.
Definitely none of that.
“Ready when you are,” Petra called, taking her stance.
Jesse took a deep breath, shaking out her shoulders, and lunged.
The sound of their staffs colliding filled the clearing once more. Jesse’s arms ached at this point, her palms stinging from the vibration of the wood, but she refused to slow down. Part of it was her pride—she didn’t want Petra to think she couldn’t keep up. But the other part, the one she tried to ignore, was the way Petra lit up as they fought, her grin turning into something radiant. It was irritating, but impressive. And maddeningly endearing. And distracting.
“Keep your guard up!” Petra called, snapping her staff forward with a quick jab. Jesse blocked it but stumbled. Petra stopped all movement at this, eyes glinting as she stood tall and rested her staff against her shoulder. “Hey. You tired?”
Admittedly a little frustrated, Jesse shot her a look, her chest rising and falling with each intake of air. “I’m… fine. Just…” she thought carefully, deciding to instigate and keep the pace going, even if her lungs were on fire. “Waiting for you to actually fight me.”
Petra visibly froze, then barked a laugh at that. “Oh, you asked for it.” The friendly little smirk on her face was almost villainous. Jesse wouldn’t have it any other way.
Petra waited for her to straighten herself, and then went at it again. There was no hesitation on her end now, just a quickness that had Jesse scrambling to keep up. Every strike Petra delivered was controlled, easily forcing Jesse onto the defensive. As much as it was helping her learn, the burn sifting through Jesse’s body was slowly becoming too much to bear.
Between parries, Petra caught Jesse’s gaze once she was able. “You’re— ah, putting force into the wrong part of the staff,” she tried to explain, pushing Jesse back for a moment. “And stop planning so much. Sometimes it’s good to just react. Roll with the punches. But also learn from every attack.”
Jesse held her gaze despite the warmth dusting her cheeks. Determined to do better, the Hero simply nodded.
As they continued, Jesse’s body moved more so on instinct, just as Petra had suggested. Just react. She met Petra’s strikes with everything she had, her muscles burning in protest. In contrast, Petra stayed consistent, seemingly breaking no more than a drop of sweat. It fueled Jesse’s frustration, as well as something deeper.
Then, for a moment, Jesse thought she might actually be winning. At one point, Petra took a few steps back, more than usual, and Jesse saw an opening. She faked a jab at Petra’s right shoulder, then flipped the staff last second, the opposite end of it flying right at Petra’s ribs.
Unfortunately for her, Petra managed to match Jesse’s speed, if not surpass it. She blocked the strike, twisted her arm, locked her staff around Jesse’s and rendered the Hero’s attacking arm completely stuck.
“Ow,” Jesse growled, attempting to jerk her hand free. Petra reacted to this by jerking her arm in a different direction entirely, knocking Jesse’s staff clean out of her hands. The weapon spun through the air before landing in the grass. Jesse watched it go, then blinked, completely out of breath.
“You’ve got to be kidding me,” she panted.
The wholehearted laughter that left Petra’s lips should have annoyed Jesse, but it didn’t in the slightest. Petra planted her staff in the ground and leaned on it, a smug grin spreading across her face. “That’s what happens when you get too aggressive. You leave yourself wide open for stuff like that.”
Jesse walked over to retrieve her weapon, trying to hide her blush. “Yeah, yeah. Lesson learned.”
Petra’s laughter was light, almost fond, and when Jesse turned back, she found Petra watching her, not coyly, but with something softer. Stop that. “Hey,” the ginger said after a few moments, “you’re getting better!”
Jesse picked up her staff. “Thanks.”
Petra curled an eyebrow, “No, seriously. You’ve got good instincts. Once you stop getting in your own way, you’ll be dangerous.” She then let out a scoff, “This has nothing to do with me having more experience. It’s a mental thing. Honest.”
Despite her irritation at not being as skilled with a staff (yet), Jesse felt a flutter in her chest at the compliment. It wasn’t just the words—it was the way Petra said them that made her feel all…warm, her tone being certain. Genuine. Friendly, Jesse reminded herself.
“…Thanks, Petra,” she eventually answered with more sincerity. Petra grinned.
They stood there for a moment, Jesse shifting her weight awkwardly. Petra squinted her eyes, seemingly studying her. “Soooo, you want to go one more round, or are you ready to call it like you mentioned?”
While speaking, Petra brought a hand up to adjust her bandana. Jesse opened her mouth to answer, but her eyes were suddenly caught by the warrior’s shirt shifting upwards, briefly revealing the faintest outline of defined muscles beneath the fabric.
The waves of heat sifting in Jesse’s chest immediately pooled in her stomach, and her thoughts totally short-circuited.
“I—um, what? Sorry.”
Petra blinked, her arm falling. There was no way she didn’t notice how much redder Jesse’s face was. “…Do you want to go again?” She reiterated curiously.
Jesse aggressively (and loudly) cleared her throat, gripping her staff tighter as she forced herself to make eye contact. Focus! “Yeah. I’m fine.” She took a breath. Not the question. “I mean, I can do one more.”
Petra arched a brow, clearly unconvinced, but she didn’t push it. “Alright.”
Jesse inwardly sighed with relief.
As they squared off again, she planted her feet more intently, trying desperately to ignore the heat curling in her stomach every time Petra’s brows furrowed in focus, or how some of her hair was starting to protrude from her bandana, or—stop it. Stop it!
These thoughts were getting ridiculous. These reactions were getting ridiculous. But it wasn’t a big deal. It didn’t mean anything. Petra is a cool person. Effortlessly cool. Everyone knows that. Jesse’s no different from anyone else, and this spar is nothing more than a friend helping a friend.
“Ready when you are, Jess.”
At least, that’s what Jesse kept telling herself.