Private Tales Legends are not born, they are Made

[Fraeya]

She smacked the dummy again, some straw sprinkled the ground and puffed into the air with her hit. Hot air of frustration left her chest. And she paused, eyes snagging on Raphael's smile. She'd seen him smile more during her time here than she'd ever thought her entire time seeing him in Midir's court.

It was disarming.

"Sometimes I wish I knew what it was like to be fully human. And now that I'm," she couldn't bring herself to say it. That she was fae. "Changed," she settled with, taking another sharp breath, her eyes finding his own again. "I fear I'll always be stuck in between even though this," she pointed at the delicate tips of her ears, "is different now."

She wished it was as easy as he said it. If only it was like flipping a switch. Then again, Mae had said to her only a few weeks earlier. 'A part of us will always be human.'

Her fist raised but she paused from hitting the dummy.

"Is that normal for puka?" For all she knew, 50 was excelling. Perhaps like a human child learning to walk.

 

[Raphael]

"No," his voice was as soft as velvet as he once again gently manoeuvred her into the correct position, forcing her feet a little wider apart, setting her hips face on, her shoulders just so and her hands up in a guard. "Most Puca from my tribe can fly within the first year of being born. Many learn to fly before they learn to walk," that was simply their way and a testament to how important a skill it was amongst them.

When he was happy with her new stance he nodded.

"Try now."

 

[Fraeya]

She tried to keep herself from bristling or flinching each time he touched her. Each time he drew close. Touch had never been something positive from other fae. Rare for even Delun. That's why being forced to dance at the ball that had set events into motion that changed her life forever had been such a big deal.

He's not going to hurt me.

She breathed, repeating the mantra in her head. Taking a deep breath and catching a hinting smell of something she couldn't identify. Something that made her feel calm for a moment.

Focusing on the dummy, she punched forward, even though her thoughts silently filed away what he said in her head. It didn't add up for her. She found it hard to believe that the spy master would've been bad at anything physical. But she didn't feel it was her place to press him for more details.

Instead she asked.

"Do you really think all this will help me if I ever run into any trouble? It's not like I'll be fighting a straw-dummy."

 

[Raphael]

"Do you think Sid is a good fighter? Lorcan? Me?" He raised an eyebrow and queried instead. Whether she answered or didn't he continued. "We all started here, with a dummy," he patted the straw bags shoulder with an almost fondness. "And every person any of us has trained has started here too. Your stance is already better, you're hips are already looser, and you've started to bounce onto your toes as you throw a punch. You wouldn't learn that by throwing your punch at me over and over and me stepping out of your way.

You need to learn to walk before you can run, Fraeya."

 

[Fraeya]

"Well, I wasn't suggesting you replace the dummy," she huffed quietly. "And no," she added and took a moment to shake out her fists and flex her fingers, hands rubbing over her knuckles. She took a step back from Raphael and the dummy.

"You three aren't good fighters. You're masters at your craft and so terrifying it made a human changeling girl keep iron nails in her pockets."

Her lips pressed tightly together, green eyes traveling up to his face as her mind tried to reconcile the male before her versus the one she'd known her entire life. It's how she felt around the dinner table with Sidereal as well. And she felt very strange being privy to this side of them. A peek beneath the masks they typically wore.

And perhaps she was just trying to find out what she would look like without one as well.

 

[Raphael]

Raphael raised an eyebrow but did not comment on the very obvious point that iron was very much illegal in the Autumn Court. What was said in Endora, stayed in Endora. It was a simple almost childlike promise but it was one the three brothers had made as soon as the land was theirs.

"Well, if not me then perhaps I can convince Lorcan that Maeve might be a good sparring partner for you," they were of similar abilities, both at the start of their fae lives. Lorcan also seemed close to snarling whenever he offered to be the dummy for Maeve, protective mate. If he had a problem with Fraeya Maeve would certainly beat it out of him.

 

[Fraeya]

She studied him silently for a long moment. Then stepped forward again, fingers curling into fists. The right way. The way he'd taught her.

"No."

She took a swing, it felt better. Seemed to hit more squarely than she'd first started out. "You will do for a partner." She took another swing.

"If you'll have me?" She paused, looking up at him. He didn't scare her. Not anymore. Perhaps he never had. Not as much as some others in this land. If he agreed, she'd fall into an amicable silence and continue to follow his instruction for the next hour or so.

It was a growing headache that would cause her to withdraw but she promised to meet him the next day for more training.