Echoes of Steel

After hours of sleep, I still felt restless, the small group of scouts didn’t stand much of a chance against our attack. But we know the king and his actual forces are on the way. I tossed and turned in my bed for what felt like hours before I finally dragged my ass out from under the covers. I needed to do something to burn off this excessive energy, so I found my way to the training room.

The training room was dimly lit, the early morning light barely filtering through the high windows. The scent of oiled leather and steel filled the air, a comforting reminder of countless hours spent honing skills that had kept me alive in the face of danger. I approached the weapon racks, running my fingers over the hilts of swords and the smooth wood of the bow staves, before selecting a pair of well-balanced daggers.

As I moved into the center of the room, I began a series of exercises, the daggers slicing through the air with a hiss. Each movement was precise, a dance of deadly intent designed to keep the body supple and the mind sharp. I lost myself in the rhythm, the restlessness that had plagued my sleep falling away with each controlled strike.

The door creaked open, and I paused mid-motion, turning to see who had entered. It was Deaken, his eyes taking in the scene with a mix of amusement and appreciation. “Can’t sleep either?” he asked, leaning against the door frame with his arms crossed.

I shook my head, resuming my exercises. “The king’s forces weigh heavily on my mind,” I admitted between strikes. I met Deaken’s gaze, the weight of the coming conflict evident in my eyes. “I fear not all of us will see the dawn after the battle,” I confessed, the clanging of metal ceasing as I lowered my weapons.

Deaken stepped closer, his presence a solid reassurance in the uncertain predawn. “We knew what we signed up for,” he said softly, his voice carrying a strength that bolstered my wavering spirit. “But fear not, for we are more than just soldiers in this war. We are defenders of our realm, protectors of our people.”

I nodded, feeling the truth in his words. “And yet, the thought of loss…”

“It haunts us all,” Deaken interjected, understanding the unspoken words. “But let it not cloud our judgment nor dampen our resolve. We fight for a cause greater than ourselves.”

A small smile tugged at the corner of my mouth. “You always know what to say to lift my spirits, Deaken.”

He chuckled, the sound echoing off the stone walls. “It’s either that or challenge you to another duel to distract you.”

“I’d welcome the distraction,” I admitted, the tension easing from my shoulders.

“Then consider it done,” Deaken declared, raising his longsword in salute. “After the battle, you and I shall have a rematch. And this time, I won’t be so easy on you.”

Deaken pushed off from the door and approached, his own choice of weapon—a longsword—already in hand. “Then let’s put that energy to good use,” he suggested, a challenging glint in his eye.

We sparred for what could have been minutes or hours, time becoming irrelevant as we matched each other’s pace and intensity. Deaken was a formidable opponent, his movements a blend of power and grace that forced me to push my limits.

As our blades met in a ringing clash, I couldn’t help but feel a sense of camaraderie. Here, in this moment, we were more than just allies; we were two souls united by a common cause, fighting back the darkness that threatened to engulf our world.

Deaken knocked the blade from my hand, the hard metal clattered to the ground echoing off the stone walls. When we finally stopped, chests heaving and sweat glistening on our skin.

I peak at Deaken from under my lashes, “that felt good.” I huffed out a deep breath. “I really needed that, thank you.”

“No problem, anytime you need to blow off some steam. Just let me know,” He winked at me giving me a playful smile.

Deaken’s playful smile was infectious, and despite the seriousness of our situation, I found myself returning it with one of my own. “I’ll hold you to that,” I said, bending down to pick up my fallen blade. “But next time, I’m choosing the weapons.”

“Oh?” Deaken raised an eyebrow, his interest clearly piqued. “And what would you choose?”

“Something that requires a bit more… finesse,” I replied, twirling the dagger in my hand before sliding it back into its sheath. “Like archery.”

The idea seemed to amuse him. “Archery, huh? You planning on shooting apples off my head?”

I laughed, the sound echoing in the stone chamber. “Tempting, but I was thinking more along the lines of a friendly competition. Loser has to… let’s say, endure a night of my choosing.”

“You’re on,” he agreed readily, the spark of challenge lighting up his eyes. “But be warned, I’m not just good with a sword.” He swiped a few stray hairs from my face. His fingers caressed my cheek lingering over my lips.

“We’ll see about that,” I teased, already looking forward to the distraction. With the king’s forces approaching, moments of levity were rare and precious. I leaned forward letting my lips brush against his savoring the flavor of his sweat. It was sweet yet salty I sucked on his lip, and he moaned in return. His warm skin and the light scratch of his stubble made me giggle as I broke away from the kiss.

As we left the training room, the clatter of our weapons and armor was a steady rhythm in the quiet of the early morning. The castle was waking up, the tension of the impending battle hanging heavy in the air. But for now, we walked side by side, two warriors finding solace in shared laughter and the promise of a challenge—where the stakes were nothing more than the right to decide how we’d spend an evening.