Lance could feel a bead of sweat trickling down the side of his face as he struggled to keep his opponent’s blade from slitting his throat. Pushing with all his strength, he threw his enemy off-balance for a moment but barely had time to recover when he had to block another stroke to keep his opponent from gashing his stomach.
"Damn, but why do I get myself into these things?" he gasped, jumping out of the way of yet another thrust and then another. "What am I thinking of when actually ask you to do this to me?" He struck out.
Keith, his opponent, laughed aloud at that and parried one of his thrusts, nimbly jumping out of the way of his wayward leg. Before Lance could take advantage of Keith’s shift in position, Keith evened out the odds by lashing out with his feet as well. Lance, tired out and thoroughly frustrated, lost his footing and found himself on the floor, finding himself blocking Keith’s blade from a very vulnerable position.
"Why? Can you please tell me why?" he grunted as the blade came too close to his throat for comfort. "Dammit, Keith, easy with the sword. I happen to value my throat."
Keith let Lance’s blade free and gave him a chance to stand up, grinning innocently. "You were the one who told me not to hold back."
Lance grit his teeth and took the offensive, with Keith blocking and dodging every time. He was good, and he knew it, but Keith... Keith was the best darn swordsman he had ever seen, much less ever gone up against.
They were in the middle of another heated exchange of parries and thrusts when a familiar sweet musical voice rang above the clanging of their blades. "Lance... Keith..."
Keith, his intense concentration suddenly broken, took a moment to look for the source of the voice. Lance, taking advantage of the opening, smacked Keith’s hand with the flat of his blade and caused Keith to lose grip of his, the sword making a loud clang as it hit the floor. Keith snapped back into attention and dove for his sword, but it was too late. He rolled away from Lance's sword once, twice, sprung up quickly – but without his sword.
"This match is yours, Lance, I concede!" Keith said laughing, rubbing his hand and jumping away from Lance’s blade for the last time.
"And why is it that you can still laugh when I’m wheezing like an old man?" Lance muttered in irritation while he gasped for breath. Then he grinned. "But I won!" He turned and grinned at the person who had given him his victory. "Good evening, Princess."
"Hey, Princess," Keith said, wiping his brow with his hand as he gave her a shy smile.
"You both do that so well!" she exclaimed, clapping her hands gleefully. Then, suddenly remembering herself, she sobered. "I heard that the two of you were practicing down here, and I volunteered to remind you to prepare for dinner." She grinned at both of them, an admiring light shining in her blue eyes. "I love watching the two of you fence – you really have to teach me to use my sword that well someday." Lance saw her shoot a glance at Keith, who had turned away to pick up his sword and a small towel from the floor.
Lance made a jaunty salute with his own sword. "Anytime, princess, anytime," he said returning her grin. "Of course, a princess only deserves to learn from a winner – and I won this match." Keith laughed at that, and Lance thought he saw Allura’s eyes light up as she absently fingered the blue rose pendant at her throat.
"I wouldn’t settle for less, Lance," she said regarding him with a laugh and tucking a strand of hair behind her ear. "At any rate, you two have to dress up for dinner first. You know how Nanny gets when you go to the table all grimy. See you later!" With that, she whirled around, her skirt billowing around her, and left the practice hall.
"Weren’t you the one who told me to always keep my concentration?" Lance said, grinning at the rather bemused Keith wickedly.
Keith absently continued to wipe his neck and face and ignored his friend’s pointed question. "Well, champ, are you going to dinner as you are or are you taking a shower first?" he asked instead.
"Nah. I took my shower hours ago." Lance replied, sheathing his blade as he strode towards the door. Still, he couldn’t quite resist a parting shot. "Unlike some people, I don’t have a princess to impress." With that, he dashed out the door, but not before he saw Keith hurl his towel behind him. The sliding door closed with a soft whoosh, but even the thick metal couldn’t disguise the muffled sound of Keith’s laughter.
Lance grinned to himself, happy for Keith. Despite the fact that Keith had not admitted his feelings for Allura to any of them, Lance could see that, at the very least, he was beginning to see Arus as his home. After being with Keith for the past ten years of their lives, it was amazing and heartwarming to watch him find something to truly be happy about after his parents’ disappearance, in spite of all the turmoil around him. No one deserved it more.
His grin faded on a sigh as he pushed back the sudden surge of loneliness behind his wall of cynicism, wondering if time would ever come when he would find someone to make him feel that way as well.
Just the same, maybe he was lucky. From his experience, women just stayed awhile to make you care and then left you at the soonest possible moment.
A sudden vision of gray eyes and chestnut hair presented itself to his mind's eye, then quickly receded like a misty dream.
He promised himself that no woman would ever have
the chance to leave him ever again.
"Mommy, where are you going?" he asked, as he followed his mother, a beautiful woman with short brown hair framing her pixie-like face, around the room as she moved from an open cupboard to her suitcase, carrying as many clothes in her arms as she could every time. "Are you going on a trip?"
"You could say that, Alex," she said, her cultured voice hesitating, her lacquered nails moving some of her feather-like tresses away from her face and stooping down to look him in the eyes. She was the only one who called her Alex, and he hated it, but it was a treat to have her call him anything at all. "I'm finaly going to be free. I’m going on a trip to far, far away – "
"With me and Abby and Tina and Mandy? Did Nana take them to the Center to shop for new suitcases?" he asked eagerly. "And will Daddy be coming, too?"
The beautiful woman’s face was momentarily marred by a look of distaste. "No, Alex, just Mommy," she said, standing up and smoothing her linen slacks over her legs and going over to the bed to snap her suitcase shut. "Mommy is going back to making movies again."
"But when are you coming back?" he asked, a troubled frown on his face as she lifted the heavy suitcase and slowly made her way down the stairs. He sat at the top step and looked down at her through the banisters, tears beginning to form in his eyes. "Mommy?"
She laid the suitcase in the foyer and went back up the stairs, passing over him on her way. She went into her room and emerged with her overnight case and her hand bag. The next time she passed by, he clutched on her leg, tears streaming down his face.
"Alex, stop blathering, won’t you?" she said in irritation, detaching him from her legs. "You’re acting like a baby… like one of your sisters." At that, he let go and she dashed down the stairs. He stuck his head through the banisters, staring at her longingly.
"Mommy? Where are you going? When are you coming back?" he asked. He couldn’t stop the tears, and he didn’t care that he was acting like one of his sisters. "Why can’t I go with you?"
"Because you just can’t," she said in clipped tones, peering out the door to see if her cab had come. It had, and she took her suitcase and opened the door. "Goodbye, Alex, and take care of your sisters like a good boy, won’t you?"
"Mommy," he wailed. "Won’t you tell me where you’re going? Please, Mommy, tell me where you’re going…"
But she had gone out the door without even
looking back.
A Second Chance -- The Guardian