Chapter Text
They met organically the first time. Both were working out in the makeshift gym in Riorson house, ignoring the others there. Until there were no others.
“Wanna spar?” Cat asked. Dain shrugged. They had both been there long enough to be exhausted, and yet neither was starting a cool down.
She took her position on the mat, and Dain met her gaze. “Before we start, you know my whole deal, right? The memory stealing stuff?”
“Don’t make it sound so sexy,” Cat deadpanned. “I’m assuming you can control it. And if you can’t, my shields are always up. You riders have such pitiful shields, but fliers aren’t affected by something as simple as sparring.” Dain shrugged again. It was rare anyone was willing to be around him, much less take any chances of touching him.
“In that case, five, four, three, two -” He brought his arm down for “one,” and she jumped into offense mode immediately.
She had clearly stayed sharp in her sparring, where Dain hadn’t seen a fight since arriving at Aretia. But he had spent hours working out each day, and though his response times were slow, they were strong. He also knew that Cat prided herself on Xaden’s fighting style. Maybe that was a novelty to the Gryphon fliers, but it was old news to him. He had seen Violet fight enough, and even Xaden himself.
“So the memory stealing thing, that’s your whole identity now?” she asked, trying to seem calm as they danced around each other, with an occasional kick or feigned move that the other easily evaded.
“No,” Dain said, ducking a punch. “It’s not.”
“The being Violet Sorrengail’s ex? That your thing?” That gave him pause, and his hit didn’t land either.
“I guess I don’t have a thing anymore,” he said, finally wrapping her arm in his. She snorted. He rolled his eyes, and twisted the arm until she was pinned. And he let his shield down.
“You don’t, do you?” She asked, unfazed. She was pinned but not in pain, and certainly not indefensible.
“I know your thing, if that’s what you’re asking,” Dain said, raising his shields as she easily broke his hold on her arm and rolled out. "Emotion work."
“And yet, here you fight, utterly composed," she said.
“Maybe you’re heightening my composure,” he offered, snagging her arm again, and using the same move to grab the other. This time the pin was more forceful.
“No, there’s just nothing there, in your head. Thought maybe I’d find some deep anger, jealousy, something like that. But your brain is as much of a shrug as the rest of you,” she said.
Dain smiled, and let her roll out again.
“Now why would I be jealous?” Dain asked, ducking punches. “Violet and I were never betrothed. I didn’t lose my claim to someone and their titles and inheritance. In fact, I never even had a claim to be entitled to -” this had been a tough realization, but one he came to months ago. Cat’s manipulation was far too little, far too late. “- and if anything, Violet came on to me and I rejected her. The theater of the breakup was how she hid the existence of you and your gryphons. Now, I can see it was noble, if incredibly embarrassing for me at the time.”
Cat’s face had finally turned red, and Dain landed a kick. She stumbled right into his arm again.
“Third time’s a charm,” he said in her ear as he pulled her other arm back, and pinned her for real this time.
“Asshole,” she said through gritted teeth.
“You’ll have to do worse than that. If you’re truly this interested in my feelings, I think the ones that stung the most were variations on ‘traitor,’ being as I, admittedly stupidly, did what I did out of allegiance. I just didn’t realize how misplaced it was.” She thrashed against him, but his grip held this time. “But I got over that one a long time ago too.”
“So you’ve got nothing? You’ve just given up? No point in feeling ever again?” she spat.
“Feeling anger, remorse? Not really, and especially not now, not in this conversation. My anger is now more squarely and justly placed, and my pain is not yours to play with. It’s not giving up,” he was now gritting his own teeth as she tried to escape, but his grip held. “It’s not giving up, it’s moving the fuck on with my life. ”
She scoffed even as his grip tightened. He continued to talk as it seemed she didn’t have the energy for a spoken retort.
“People can grow and change. Learned that the hard way. But helped me realize I could too. Now I’m no empath,” he said, his voice again as even as a scribe’s, “and you’re right about your shields, but I can tell you still have a lot of anger and jealousy going on. Is that helping you? They used to say, ‘put your anger into the fight', but it doesn’t seem the angrier person wins, now does it?” She had finally slowed. He bore down on her back in one last heave, and she gave a lazy tap. He released her and she was immediately standing over him, ignoring his offer to help her up.
“I didn’t tap out because I couldn’t win,” she said. “I tapped out because your monologue got so fucking boring.”
She turned, grabbed her canteen, and left.