A Deputy's Duty

[Jack Trove]

Once again, Jack’s world was black.
Nobody spoke. For the first time, in a long time, Jack wasn’t faced with the speculative whispers about his private life that had haunted him since the Summer’s end. It should’ve been a massive relief- God knows he’d been wishing they would all just stop talking for bloody long enough.
Be careful what you wish for, was all he could really think now.
This silence was terrifying.
Even more so than the darkness.
How did she do it? How did she stand up here, raised on this platform, and face them like this? In her hands… lay their lives. When she spoke to them, she knew that they knew the next time they were gathered before her, at least one more of them would be dead. How could she- how could anyone- face them with that knowledge?
Yet they never hated her. She never lost their respect. She never had to face a room full of people with a thirst for her blood.
They were her Warriors, united by her, and led by her.
They knew the risks.
They took the risks.
They made their sacrifices.
They gave their lives.
And Jack knew them better than anyone else… because he was one of them.
That was the worst part- he was one of them. And he, of all people, should have been able to protect her, and stop this from happening.
She was their leader.
His leader.
His friend.
Oh, God.
“Trove.”
Major Hoodham’s face was lit suddenly as a single spotlight split the darkness of the stage. Hoodham was exceedingly self-disciplined, but even the stress was beginning to show in the young man’s face. Hoodham looked as though he had aged 10, 20 years in the past few hours.
Jack hated to think what he looked like right now.
“Trove- Jack- come on.”
The spotlight swivelled around, and blasted his eyes with a blinding white light. He still couldn’t see anything- but he appreciated the abrupt end to the blackness. He couldn’t face that void; that endless, dark hole that not even the sun’s own sweet rays could brighten.
Not again.

* * *

Blackness.
He could see nothing but blackness.
And at first, the blackness brought him peace. Darkness was quiet, and it eclipsed anything else from view. Something… though Jack couldn’t quite think what… was missing. He’d forgotten something important, he thought, but… he didn’t mind. It felt good to forget.
What a beautiful, soothing colour the world was. So simple. So plain and simple and plain. Basic. Basic black.
Wonderful.
He liked this world.
What he didn’t like was the red. That funny flashing. It started now- at the back of his skull- and grew, and grew and it hurt Jack. That surprised him. Pain wasn’t something he was used to… not physical pain. His strength hardened him against the bumps and jabs of the world. Jack hadn’t had a scratch on him since…
Battle Training. Ailith had been matched up against him.
And she’d cut him.
Ailith didn’t do this to him, did she?
Oh, no. It was… her mother…
“Tell my daughter Ailith I said thanks.”
Yes. It was her mother.
Asking him for a favour.
God, well, he felt pretty stupid; he was supposed to be helping her out yet instead he was lying here in all this blackness-
Lying?
Why was he on his back?
The red flashing was growing more persistent. Its light was almost a constant now. There was an aching, numb sensation all across his jaw. The pain in his head was evening out now- spreading a slow, thick fog through his mind and slipping down his throat. Jack’s arms twitched… slowly at first. They were cold. They’d forgotten how to move, perhaps. There was no need to move in the comforting envelope of blackness.
The dark, soft colour threatened to overthrow his consciousness once more, but Jack forced it back. The red flickered once more; brighter and bigger than ever before- and suddenly, the sharp, angry world came into focus.
The sky was blood red.
The sun was hovering; a dusty, dying orb, off over Cardsdale, to the west. It hadn’t been so hot in so long; not since the Summer- the sky had never been so heavy and humid. Jack pushed himself upwards, and gasped as sudden, sharp pain broke out across his throat. Five sharp points of pressure around his neck were aching; screaming.
Ailith’s mother’s cool eyes had been laughing…
The farther Jack pushed himself up off the ground, the more and more hazy, sick details began to form in his mind. With every inch upwards, each memory inched forward; freeing Jack’s mind of the tenacious grip of darkness.
One by one, each blow hit him.
The man with the gun.
Ailith’s mother.
Madeleine.
His promotion.
The choke.
Madeleine.
The threats.
His helplessness.
Madeleine.
Jack made one final push, and he was on his feet, with only her on his mind. He couldn’t go after them now; hours had passed. It was morning when she was gone. Now the sun was setting. Did Hoodham already know? Was a battle roaring across No Man’s Land, and he was completely clueless?
Was Madeleine-?
No.
Jack ran.

* * *

The spotlight seemed to grow brighter; harsher.
Jack cleared his throat.
“I know… you already know this,” he said, slowly, “but I am going to tell you how it happened now, to prevent anyone from getting any other funny ideas about me and what I did to protect… our Head.
“Baudelaire and I… well, we were jogging together in the fields separating the school from the village. I… cannot say our exact location at the occurrence of the confrontation, but I believe we were further down south, facing westwards, towards the village. As we came along the path, we approached two people- a young, dark-haired man in his early twenties, and an older, smaller, blonde woman. Naturally, Baudelaire and I assumed they were villagers, and paid them no further attention as we continued on our jog…”
Jack paused, to clear his throat again. By now, he’d seen himself in the mirror, and seen the five purple finger marks that lined his throat. The woman had small fingers, but the marks had spread in an ugly fashion- the purple edges smeared into each other, fusing the bruises into an ugly, smudged ring. It still hurt a little bit to breathe, but it wasn’t anything he couldn’t take.
“The woman… stepped out. She spoke to me; she said-” he stopped. Somewhere in this room, Ailith Rayner was listening… and Jack couldn’t quite bring himself to repeat it. “She said she wanted to talk to me. Baudelaire and I both slowed down… and that’s when the woman launched herself at me and attacked. She caught me in a grip, but before Baudelaire could react, the young man... pulled out a gun.”
A collective intake of breath from the watching audience would’ve been appropriate there. But silence still held them in its stealthy grip.
“Baudelaire told me not to move. She was held at gunpoint and I could do nothing to save her without risking her life. And I was not,” his voice hardened, “about to take that risk.”
What would Madeleine do?
Lee was the one who worked on logic on a daily basis, but Madeleine worked on logic in battle. Everything she saw was black and white. There was no grey areas. No place for doubt. And no place for fear.
To be a leader today- the leader they needed- Jack had made his choices. Some people may not like them, but frankly, he didn’t give a d@mn. Neither would Madeleine- why should he?
“This is what we’re going to do,” Jack said, and suddenly, his voice took on a whole new sound- a new tone- a new confidence that had not been there before, “we are going to save Madeleine Baudelaire.”
The silence before him shattered into screaming, shouting roars of approval. With that one short sentence, Jack had captured the crowd, and their hearts. Jack had captured their confidence.
He held up both hands, and the roaring subsided.
“It’s not ideal, but we are running out of time. I have been discussing quick tactics with the Academics, and we are in agreement that for this battle, the Warriors will need all the help we can get. We have to give ourselves the best chance of victory possible. So, with Kira Norris’ permission,” Jack’s head nodded back to the Head of the Spies, and momentarily, the spotlight flickered to her, illuminating her grave, pale features, “the Spies will be joining us in battle.”
The roaring response to this message was entirely different. He could hear swearing, and anger- and not for the first time, Jack found himself wondering at the arrogance of his fellow Warriors.
“Say what you like,” he called over the top of them all, “but we need them! I’m going to make sure we win- and the Spies are capable fighters! Tonight, they are our comrades in battle, and you will treat them with that respect!”
Jack gave a short nod of approval to the crowd as the noise again subsided.
“Now, I-”
“Trove.” Hoodham was on his feet again. Suddenly, the whole room brightened. The crowds from outside- the rest of the school, the Spies, Academics and Carers- buzzed around the room. Jack’s eyebrows furrowed. There’d been no noise before.
“Sir?” Jack prompted his Headmaster, as gently as he dared.
Hoodham’s face was a mess of lines. “I… I’ve just been informed. They’re here.”
Jack’s heart lurched sickeningly. “Pardon, sir?”
Kira’s wide eyes were closed tightly shut behind Hoodham’s shoulder. Jack wondered vaguely if she was praying.
“They’re here,” Hoodham addressed the Warriors now, not Jack, “prepare for battle immediately- the Forces are here!”
For a third time, the crowd split into uproar, but this time, Jack could see it happen. He could see their faces; twisted with panic and terror, as they ran, pushing and calling and grabbing at weapons. No-one was ready. This had never happened before. Outside, the agitated buzzing of the other groups increased, and the doors split. Spies spilled into the hall, and they flashed across the paths of the Warriors, grabbing at every weapon in sight.
Numbly, Jack stepped off-stage.
Carers and Academics were appearing too, now, lost and helpless to do anything but watch their friends run. Kira had disappeared, probably to rally her Spies and offer some support. She knew what to do. Hoodham had gone as well- maybe for teachers, or to talk tactics with Macy.
All Jack could really do for now was stare.
Then, out of nowhere… she appeared. Not the one Jack wanted to see. A different one. It took him a few moments to recognise that she was Olivia.
Suddenly, a new purpose overthrew Jack’s system, and he approached.
“Olivia,” she turned, “it’s over between us. I’m… I’ve found someone else.”
Jack didn’t even bother waiting for a response. He just turned and walked away, towards the chaos of his classmates.
And then he saw her. The one he wanted.
The one he… yes… he… loved.
She looked so calm; so composed. Maybe she’d do a better job of being a Head than he would. She certainly knew how to hold a crowd. He wondered- randomly- whether or not she’d been able to hear any of what he was saying. Would she blame him? Would she hate him?
She approached him now, and Jack’s heart warmed at the sight of her, in spite of the situation. They met, in the middle of the hell all around them, and Jack felt himself smile. It was silent between them- peaceful- and suddenly, all the noise around them numbed to a gentle humming in Jack’s ears.
“Sophie,” Jack said, “I…”
He was silenced as her hand pressed against his cheek.

[Jack Trove]

The sound of her voice broke his heart.
Now that she was closer, the vision of calmness; collectivity, had vanished. Jack knew in that instant- for no reason other than instinct- that he was the only person Sophie would ever, ever allow to see her fear. Even now, he was sure he wasn't seeing all of it. To anyone who looked at her, she was just Sophie. She was just fine.
But Jack knew Sophie's eyes.
He knew how to read them like a book. Had he really spent so long watching them to know them like this? They may as well be his mirror image.
'Cause he was scared, too.
"I know," he croaked slightly, and his arms reached forward, and curled around her, closing her against his chest. His head dipped, and his lips pressed against her forehead. "Me, too."

[Madeleine Baudelaire&Russ Ford]

Blood.
It was thick, it was red, it was ugly. And, as it trickled from Russ’ knuckles, he knew that this was only the first bit of blood to be shed tonight.
She was gone. Madeleine had been taken, and the school was about to fall to its knees. It had been a dámn good move on their part, because it only took a second from the news being spread to total, widespread panic. Marius had Madel. Madeleine, their leader. Head of the Warriors, the one who was needed more than ever, right about now. And Christ knows what was happening to her, she could be anywhere, and Christ knew what was going to happen to them without her. It wasn’t a move to test the reaction, like last time – this was to get their leader out of the way before attacking the school, because it was weak. They’d hit the weak spot, and they were all fúcked.
More than that. Russ couldn’t see any way that the majority could come out of this alive – then again, right now, he couldn’t see much. Everything was red. Red, red, red. Thick clouds of scarlet marred his vision, and he could only concentrate on one thing right now. Madel was – Christ, he couldn’t even think about it right now. He didn’t know where she was, but he knew that there was little chance of her coming out of this alive. Orchid was going to be attacked, and if she surrendered, Madeleine was dead. If she won, well, Madeleine was still going to be killed. Their leader. Russ’ friend, his cousin, one of the only people he actually had left here. She was his family. Tied by blood, but more than that.
If anything good came out of this, it was that he’d finally realised just how much that meant.
They hadn’t left him to hear about it with the rest of the school. Thank God. Russ wasn’t sure how well he could have controlled himself if that had been the case. Professor Thandie had come to find him, as Madeleine’s only relation in the school (he could only assume that someone had gone to tell Lee), and had tracked him down in the common room…
“Mr. Ford.”
Shít, what had he done now? The last time Thandie had come to hunt him down, he’d ended up with two hours prison time – detention – for breaking Ryan Brett’s nose. Whatever, the underhand git had it coming to him, and he should have had the balls to punch back. ‘Sides, it wasn’t like they couldn’t heal it up in a matter of seconds.
This time, though, there didn’t seem to be anything that should be preying on his conscience right now, and after a second to run through his mind to check that anything had been done, he was satisfied that he was in the clear.
“Professor Thandie,” he said, casting aside his book and getting up from his chair, in the manner of respect that was required here when talking to the staff.
She looked worn – tired, like she’d aged ten years since he’d last seen her. Her pale eyes looked sad, and her thin mouth was set in a stern line. He and this woman had had more than a few run-ins with each other, and it would be pretty safe to say that they weren’t on the best terms with each other. But now, she didn’t look mad, and there was no resigned look of annoyance in her eyes this time. She looked… ill…
Russ frowned. “Is everything alright… ma’am?”
Professor Thandie studied him for a moment, before shaking her sad head. “I’m afraid not, Russell. I would like to speak to you for a moment, if you could follow me.”
As soon as his Christian name came out of her mouth – well, that was when panic set in. Thandie only used your first name when something was wrong – really wrong.
Russ glanced around the empty common room for a minute, quelling the panic that had just been raised. “Here’s good, if that’s alright, ma’am.”
He couldn’t remember what exactly had been said, now. The main points of it had sunk in – yeah, they were in there pretty good now. Madeleine had been out with Jack Trove, and they’d been confronted by two members of Marius’ Forces, a young man and an older woman. They didn’t know why, at this point, but it was thought that the enemy suspected she’d had a part in some murder. She’d given herself up, because they’d held her at gunpoint and had threatened Jack. Even the enemy lot had known her well enough to know that she’d do anything to save one of her men.
Idiot.
He’d only been told this a few minutes ago, and had gone outside quickly before the news could spread and the mass hysteria begin, so he wouldn’t have to see it. Everything had been strangely numb – no anger, nothing. Just the simple, straight facts floating around his head, and a feeling that he needed to get outside. So, he’d went out through a shortcut via the kitchens, and lit a cigarette. One cigarette.
Russ couldn’t hear any noise out here. It was just the slight wind and his own footsteps.
Madeleine’s gone. Enemy. Taken.
The short words kept repeating themselves over and over in his head. Quickly, like a fast flowing stream that stopped for nothing and no one.
Madeleine’s gone. Enemy. Taken.
No one knew where she was. She could be anywhere, and they could be doing anything to her.
Gone. Enemy. Taken.
The people she was trying to fight, that Shaun had died fighting.
Gone. Enemy. Taken.
Dead.
No.
It was at that point that he’d snapped. A small explosion happened a few metres away, and before he knew it, he was slamming his fists futilely into a tree and a yell of rage echoed through the short area of forest.
He didn’t know how long he was there for, only that he stopped a while after he heard the bones in his hand crack, and the blood had been flowing freely down his arm for a while.
Stop. Think, Russ, for fúck’s sake.
So Russ stopped lashing out against the tree, and started to control his breathing. In, out. In, out. Eventually, the compulsion to break things, to hurt someone, something, anything, because she was gone, she was getting hurt, was fading slightly, and Russ was able to think semi-rationally again.
This wasn’t just about Madel anymore. Madeleine was being “safely” kept out of the way in the enemy barracks, presumably.
This meant the way was clear for Marius to call for an attack on Orchid, with the school being left without it’s Head of Warriors, and panic running through the troops. This was a weak point, and any army worth its salt would take advantage of this. There would be an attack soon, and they needed to be prepared.
Yes, his cousin was in danger, but there was a bigger picture here. This was a call to war, and all Warriors needed to answer to that. The whole school needed to be ready, and there was probably a meeting going on now. He needed to be there. Russ may not think much of this cause, he may only be there for revenge – but this was a call that hit him hard. He’d be out there fighting , just like all the other warriors-
All the other Warriors.
Oh, shít, Lynn.
Again, an irrational panic welled up as he realised this. Lynn was going to be out there, and they were going to be shooting at her. She was in danger too, and while she could cope, what if…?
No, no, think, Russ. Bigger picture.
So, he contented himself with one final kick at the tree, before running into the school, past the pile of ash and the discarded cigarette.
Russ arrived in the battle training room mid-way through Jack Trove talking. Of course, he realised, as he slipped quietly through the door into the almost deadly-silent room. Madel wouldn’t have left them completely unprotected. Looks like Jack’s promotion to 2i/c had been officialised after all. Aside from Jack’s voice, the room was completely still and silent. It was as though everyone was in shellshock. Something that didn’t- something that never happened. Everyone was shít-scared.
And he couldn’t see Lynn anywhere in the crowd. Where the hell was she?
“Baudelaire and I… well, we were jogging together in the fields separating the school from the village. I… cannot say our exact location at the occurrence of the confrontation, but I believe we were further down south, facing westwards, towards the village.”
Oh. Oh, God. This was how it had happened. Despite the sudden urge to hunt down Lynn in this room full of scared Warriors, Russ stopped his searching to listen, and looked up at Jack, who had blackberry, finger-shaped bruises along his throat, a souvenir from their encounter.
“… as we came along the path, we approached two people- a young, dark-haired man in his early twenties, and an older, smaller, blonde woman. Naturally, Baudelaire and I assumed they were villagers, and paid them no further attention as we continued on our jog. The woman… stepped out. She spoke to me; she said – she said she wanted to talk to me. Baudelaire and I both slowed down… and that’s when the woman launched herself at me and attacked. She caught me in a grip, but before Baudelaire could react, the young man... pulled out a gun.”
No one moved. The well of anger that he’d covered outside was starting to open again at those words, as Russ suddenly saw, against his will, Madeleine with a gun held to her throat, small, and, for once, defenceless. In his head, her petite body and soft face looked not dissimilar to how she used to look after those nightmares. Scared. Russ knew that, under the circumstances, Madel would have been perfectly calm, and composed. That’s what she did. She wouldn’t let them see her fear. That wasn’t how she worked. But, just there, in his mind’s eye… she did look scared. She looked how she used to look, and Russ felt a pain not unlike a punch to the gut.
“Baudelaire told me not to move. She was held at gunpoint and I could do nothing to save her without risking her life. And I was not, about to take that risk.”
Baudelaire. No one called her it usually, but that’s what she was. She was a Baudelaire. Strong. She’d be fine, right? Line of fighters. She’d be fine. So would he. They’d both be fine. She’d come out of this alive and kicking, and laughing at them for all the fuss that they’d made. Totally fine.
Jack’s voice became louder, more assured, as he looked around the room. It almost seemed as though he was drawing himself, like he was becoming confident, though only God knew what reason he had to do that. Jack had been there, and he was even more fúcked than the rest of them. “This is what we are going to do – we are going to save Madeleine Baudelaire.”
Any protestation of doubt that arose in Russ’ mind was completely drowned out by the roar of approval that came from the Warriors. They were cheering, screaming. Because they really believed they could get her out of there – or, at, least, they seemed to. Maybe they weren’t so confident, but one thing that was always constantly getting instilled in them was that the best thing to do is try. You might not succeed, but you can always try – and no matter how doomed they were, no one in this room was going to sit back and let Marius get away with this. For taking Madeleine, they were going to raise hell, because hell was what was required here. Looking around, Russ felt slightly heartened by how much this meant to them. No one was giving up here without putting up a dámn good fight.
But Jack wasn’t finished. “It’s not ideal, but we are running out of time. I have been discussing quick tactics with the Academics, and we are in agreement that for this battle, the Warriors will need all the help we can get. We have to give ourselves the best chance of victory possible. So, with Kira Norris’ permission, the Spies will be joining us in battle.”
A single, unified swear rose up across the arena, one which Russ took part in without realising it. This wasn’t what Madeleine would do. She’d forbidden it, after last time, and it wasn’t meant as an insult to their capabilities, but the Spies weren’t Warriors. They hadn’t been trained like Warriors, and they were just going to get themselves killed and get other people killed because the Warriors would feel the need to watch out for what they were cócking up. If Madeleine came out of this alive, she’d go ballistic.
“Say what you like, but we need them! I’m going to make sure we win- and the Spies are capable fighters!” Not the point, idiot. Tonight, they are our comrades in battle, and you will treat them with that respect!”
Whatever. Russ’ attention was distracted now from Jack, and it was now back on finding Lynn again. She wasn’t going to like this, not if that meant that Kennedy was fighting too. But still, he couldn’t see her anywhere in the blur of heads, even with both their heights. There were too many people, and the atmosphere was too thick for him to push through and try and find her. Here, he had to wait until Jack was done, then he could find her. Had to find her. But as he scanned the crowd, the atmosphere in the room suddenly lightened, and Russ’ glance flickered back to the stage. Hoodham was on his feet.
No one could hear what was being said, but Kira Norris suddenly screwed her eyes shut, and Jack’s face contorted slightly as he said an inaudible word. Then, Hoodham addressed the room.
“They’re here. Prepare for battle immediately – the Forces are here!”
Shít.
Suddenly, Russ couldn’t hear anymore as the room caved into terror. People started to push and rush about, swearing and panicking, searching for weapons and friends. Here. They were here already, and no one was prepared. They were screwed, and they all knew it. This hadn’t happened before – they’d always at least had a few hours. But Marius was advancing, and they were trapped. They had no choice. This was it.
Now or never.
It was now impossible to find Lynn – God knew where she was in this din. The place was a mess of scared people, of panic, of fury. The doors were opening, and the Spies and Carers flooded in as some Warriors fought to get out of the room, to get their own personal weapons. Everywhere there was shouting , talking; fear, anger and adrenaline clouded up the room. The adrenaline even began to creep into Russ’ system as he pushed his way into the armoury to take his weapons, which had been carefully stored there – sword and a couple of basic knives. Anything else was unnecessary at the start, and if they were needed, he could electro-magnetise them to himself. It was a fool-proof way of disarming your opponent and getting weapons for yourself. And of course, as much as Madeleine preached against it, Russ always found the best weapons were his fists. In this war, it took your opponent by surprise, and Russ had been trained how to hit exactly, how to hit the right place, how to land a dangerous blow without excessive force. It could work, and did work. Though, not with his hands like this. God knew what he’d done, but he needed it fixed quickly. And, in the thick crowds, he couldn’t recognise any Carers. Fúcking fantastic.
But once he got out of the armoury, he caught sight of a telltale orange blur fighting her way out of the arena, and shot straight out after her, finally catching up with her in the almost deserted Entrance Hall.
“Olivia?”
She turned around to the call of her name, and Russ was immediately taken aback by the look on her face. Clearly trying to fight back tears, her lips were pressed tightly together and were twitching slightly, her face paper-white, and a determined air about it as she tried to take control of her composure.
“What’s the matter, Russ?” she said, softly, like she always spoke.
He raised his bleeding hand so that she could see it, and Olivia rolled her eyes as she came over to him and took it gently. Sighing, she asked, “Who this time?”
“Tree.”
She looked up at him briefly, and he caught sight of a tear leaving her green eyes.
Aw, God. Not tears. Not now. He couldn’t cope with tears at the best of times, and right now…
“You alright?”
And she laughed. Just once, but it wasn’t the place. It wasn’t the time, and it was slightly maniacal in this situation. Christ, Russ thought, watching her with alarm as she tested the bones in her fingers. “Olivia?”
This time, no laughter. Just a shaky smile. “Perfect. Couldn’t be better.”
Then, she pressed down hard on his knuckles.
“Ouch! Jesus, woman!”
“You’ve fissured a couple of these, and you’ve completely dislocated your middle finger here.”
“That was obvious. Sure you’re alright? You’re not usually so violent.”
Bítch. That had really feckin’ hurt.
Her tone was measured, careful, as she passed a healing finger gently over the knuckles of his right hand. “My best friend just got kidnapped by people who have been trying to kill her for over a year. I don’t know where she is, or what they’re doing to her. She could be dead, for all I know. I’ve been put as co-commander of the Field Carers for this, and I’m terrified. I’m going out to try to heal people, and I’m inevitably not going to be able to help some people. My friends and the people who I care about will be out there getting attacked, and, to top it all off, my boyfriend just very abruptly informed me that “it’s over” because there’s someone else. Just as we’re about to go out into battle,” she added, with a bitter laugh. “So, I’m not really alright, Russ. In fact-”
He waited for a minute as his bones knit together, but it was obvious that she wasn’t going to say anymore. “Jack left you?” he prompted.
Olivia nodded. “It’s been coming, but to do this right now…”
“Doesn’t make it right. What a bastard.”
She laughed shakily, and Russ felt a rush of anger towards Jack. Yeah, he was under stress right now, but that wasn’t an excuse for treating someone else like crap. Especially now in this – especially when the person was responsible for healing your forces. Chrissake. And someone else? Cheating git.
“And someone else?” Russ prompted.
Olivia’s face closed over, but a fresh tear welled up. “I don’t know. I don’t want to think about that. Clearly I wasn’t good enough, so he needed to look somewhere else. I don’t know how long…”
“I’m sorry,” he responded awkwardly. “I’d hit him for you, but right now…”
She looked up at him for a second, before shaking herself. “Oh, God, Russ, I’m so sorry. What am I doing? You just… she’s your cousin, she’s-”
“It’s alright.”
“No.”
No, it wasn’t. But still, sometimes, you had to pretend. “Yeah, you’re right.” Russ eyed his deformed finger for a second. “Take it out on my finger, if you like. It needs fixed, and I won’t feel it after it’s healed. Do your worst.”
A smile. “That’s not the best idea, Russ. That’ll hurt.”
“Well, I’ve never been bothered by pain.”
She wiped the falling tear away, before laughing softly. “I had a feeling that you’d say that. Brace yourself, then.”
It did hurt, more than he thought it would, and Russ had to take a sharp intake of breath to stop himself from yanking his hand out of her grasp. But the pain stopped as soon as the golden glow passed over his hand, and it seemed to make her feel slightly better.
“Thanks, Russ.”
“No shít. Remind me not to piss you off, though.
“Sorry,” she laughed, before the smile fell from her face. “I suppose I’d best be … away to prepare.”
It was that sentence that made Russ realise that the next time he saw Olivia, she could be dead. She was a good person, and had proved herself so. She’d done him a lot of favours recently – healing bruises before the staff noticed and such like – and she didn’t deserve to be in this situation. Even though she was a Carer, the enemy weren’t likely to spare her. It seemed like this was going to be all or nothing.
“Yeah, me too. I need to go and find someone, in any case,” Russ agreed, with a sigh, before extending his newly hand towards her.
Another tear fell from her eyes as she realised the same thing he had, and she grasped his hand. “Good luck, Russ. Hopefully I’ll see you after.”
“Same,” he responded. “Good luck to you, too. See you at the other end.”
She could take that whatever way she wanted.
Olivia nodded, before leaving to head towards the hospital wing. But, before she went through the door, she turned to face Russ. “She’ll be alright.”
He didn’t need to ask who. “I hope so. Consolation is that she’s a fighter, she’s not likely to give up without a fight – and, I guess if this goes badly, she’d rather… go this way than die of cancer, or something. We all would. That’s why we’re here, isn’t it?”
“I tell myself that every battle,” she said – and then she was gone.
Russ sighed, and readjusted the sword in his belt. The adrenaline would come soon enough, and he wasn’t scared. Not for himself, and he knew Madel would – one way or the other – be alright. But no one was going to come out of this completely unscathed. They were going to fight, because that was what they did, that was what they wanted to do. Russ had been waiting for this day since he’d arrived at Orchid, since he’d realised he could get his revenge on his stepdad. He hadn’t realised it until now, because of the circumstance – but this wasn’t just for Madeleine, now. This was for himself. And now, he only had two wishes.
That the people he cared about here wouldn’t be killed.
And please, God, please, that he could run into Oliver Doyle, and pay him back for everything that he’d done to them.

[Isolde Moore]

And within that one sentence Isolde froze up and became numb.
Madeleine?
Captured?
But...how? It-wasn't-possible.
Yes, Isolde hadn't been here long. Yes, she didn't know Madeleine nearly well enough as she would've-
Stop right there Isolde. No past tense. Madeleine is alive.
Right.
She was.
If there was one thing Isolde had learned or noticed it was that Madeleine Baudelaire was a fighter and bloody excellent one at that. She wouldn't give up. She would not show fear. She was strong physically and mentally.
Strong.
And as she listened to Jack retelling what had happened, respect grew stronger for him and for Madeleine. Jack was also physically strong and also he was strong willed. The bruises around his neckline showed that.
“This is what we’re going to do, we are going to save Madeleine Baudelaire.” and they all erupted. Isolde had never been a rowdy or loud person but her pride and respect for the whole group made her cheer with them. They were one. A whole. Nothing would change that ever. And there was one thing they all agreed on and would fight to the end and die for.
Madeleine.
For her warriors would be at a loss without her. Sure, she had no doubt whatsoever that Jack Trove would make a brilliant leader. For thought he could be too much of a joker at times he always had his head and respect from the group also but he just wasn't Madeleine and never would be.
Cheering interupted her thoughts again; cursing all at once from her friends and why? What had Jack just said?
She tailed on to what he was saying again, " and the Spies are capable fighters! Tonight, they are our comrades in battle, and you will treat them with that respect!”
Oh.
The Spies were joining. Isolde didn't join in. She was with Jack, they needed their help and as much as Madeleine detested the thought and idea of it, Jack was right to go behind her back on this one. They needed all the strength they could pull and all the help they could get their hands on. If any of them had a choice they wouldn't even think about going against her orders but they didn't.
Why were they so opposed to the Spies?
Isolde already held great respect for every single group in the school and the teachers as well. More than that. She held respect for every single individual throughout the school and the school itself. Tonight, the school would exceed it's reputation and so would the Warriors, Spies, Academics and Carers. Neither could live without each other. Nobody could live without everyone here. The school was more than a community, it was a family. Bonded and united as one.
And the Forces will be dámned before they even try to interfere with that relationship. Every single person here would make sure of that.
Now a new voice took over. Jack's had stopped and now the frail, old look headmaster faced them and was addressing them. And in one sentence the hall was in a frenzy of panic and shock. Isolde stood there frozen. To hell with it, she wasn't ready. She had never, never been in a fight.
Hoodham's word rebounded of the walls and echoed through her ears and head, "They’re here, prepare for battle immediately- the Forces are here!”
No, no no.
Scott.
She found whatever armour she could and weapons and then started to look for Scott. She needed and wanted to see him before they went. For if she didn't, and he was lost, she would never, for the rest of her life forgive herself. She was past being friends with him now. She felt love for the first time and she would tell him before they went out and fought for their lives and friends and families and reputation.
And she would also talk to Arihant and Jude and Tamika. Four people who had become best friend and one she hoped to be more than best friends with.
"I'll be dámned if any of them die. The forces will swallow us whole but they will choke on us!"

[Ailith Rayner]

Ailith stood amongst the crowd listening with silent intensity as was everyone. Jack deserved a bloody big medal for this and Ailith felt he handled the dire situation he was in just a few hours ago with great dignity and strength. Madeleine's abduction did of course draw a breath from everyone including Ailith but when the reasonably vague details were given Ailith's police brain kicked in.
Why? To weaken Orchid Hill? To catch us all off guard? Why now? Wait... blonde woman? She leaned on the shoulders of the guys on either side of her and boosted herself so that she could see Jack's face. He bore the tactical injuries of finger shaped bruises on his neck someone who has an idea about how to go about this kind of business. Someone with intimate knowledge of the human body and how to manipulate it. Someone... like that lying whoorebag biitch of a mother of her's.
Ailith dropped down to her feet and thought. How could she be sure it was Laila? Ailith could think of no motivation for her to launch such an attack apart from being an evil, twisted little cow. And why at this time? There was more to this, Ailith was sure of it. She couldn't be sure but Ailith had a inkling, just some sort of feeling, that Laila was that blonde woman. It was too much of a coincidence. Her mother just so happened to want to get to know her and then a couple of months later Madeleine is captured. And she'd be so good at it.
Ailith began to shove her way through the crowd to get to Jack. She had to know. Jack was doing his best to boost morale and doing rather a good job of it Ailith thought and when he mentioned the Spies being involed in the battle an unfortunate Warrior right beside Ailith decided to object and recieved a particluarly vicious elbow jab in the ribs.
When she was getting close to the front Ailith heard Hoodham's commanding tone call, "They’re here, prepare for battle immediately- the Forces are here!”
The room errupted.
Awh bloody hell Sir! Ailith cussed in her head at her principal.
Ailith started to really shove forward to get to Jack now as he was about to be in great demand from now on and he would have little time for Ailith and her seemingly useless questions. Other Spies were getting into gear and leaving and Ailith would soon join them once she'd got some answers from, "MR TROVE, SIR!"

[K. Scott]

Holy God! How in the hell did that happen! was Scott's first thoughts when he found out his Head had been kidnapped. Who in their right mind would even think about attempting that. Gotta admit though it was pretty smooth. No one saw that coming! Scott listened to Jack and he could feel nothing but admiration for him, (although the part about getting beat up by a woman sounded pretty bad despite the fact that she sounded as if she knew what she was about) as he had been though a crappy time and was still full of confidence that he could fix it. Scott felt his blood coursing through him and his adrenelin lifted him into a high as Jack worked his audience into a confident army. He didn't much care whether the Spies were involved or not. To be honest he'd be happier if they did; he was not one for bloodlust and the quicker it was over the better...
... Shhhhhit...
Careful what you wish for Scott careful what you wish for.
As Hoodham called the words "prepare for battle immediately" it was like each and every member of the Warriors went mental. There was random grabbing for armour and weaponry and a mad dash from the Spies who had let themselves in and started raiding and stealing from the Warriors aswell. It was madness. Someone needed to take charge of it all. As Scott was standing next to the armoury he took it upon himself (not for purely unselfish reasons because he probably would have been crushed if he hadn't) to take on this duty and he shouted, with the aid of his air control for everyone in the near vicinity to stop shoving.
"Right I want you five to come in with me to the armoury and you... ten to hold people back alright?" Scott indicated the people and took in with him the five Warriors to help him take out all of the gear and distrubute them calmly but efficently. Scott assinged each Warrior different weaponry or armour and as he came out with a pile of shields he called for another six to keep taking out the gear while he and the others distrubuted. People began to form queues and eventually there was some sense of order among the troops.
Scott sized people up briefly and passed them a shield until he came to a familiar and a dangerously apprehensive face.
"All right Isolde? You ready to get your groove on?" Scott attempted to lighten her mood.

[Isolde Moore]

"All right Isolde? You ready to get your groove on?" always joking away and being goofy.
It took all she had not to just grab him and kiss every inch of that face but she couldn't keep calm. She couldn't move, smile...anything. All she did was stare at his face. She would die to protect him and Jude and Arihant and Tamika.
But more than that, his eyes reminded her of her granny who had died in a war...this war. She had only found that out a few days ago but he had the same colour of eyes and she couldn't bear it to see the light fade from them.
Her body was frozen, she wanted so badly to go and hug him...kiss him, tell him how she felt but her body refused to listen to her brains wants. To her hearts wants. She was an iceberg.
Isolde knew she wasn't ready to go to war. Knew she wasn't ready to live through life if somebody close to her died tonight and of course lives would be lost, she just hoped it would be the forces side who lost more.
And how could she doubt it?
Jack's words had filled everyone with confidence, respect and bravery. They were prepared win the cause or die fighting for it and so was she. So why couldn't she move?
"S-" what? what would she say? "Sc-" her throat and mouth were dry to the high heavens. Her saliva glands must be empty, she would get the words out! "Scott, promise me you won't die? Promise me you won't let anybody do any harm to you. I-Scott I-" she could do this. No, she could feel herself losing it. Isolde was about to go into hysterics, hurl...No. I will not hurl. I will not lose control! but what was she leaning on? And when had she started to cry? "I can't bear if any of you die. You, Jude, Arihant or Tamika. I don't think I could l-"
"Scott, I lo-" but she couldn't. She cried on his shoulder.
When did I get so close to him to cry on his shoulder?
Who cared?
She didn't.
I love him.
Tell him. But she couldn't, not yet. Not now, for if she did and lost him, it would just make it just that more painful....right?

[K. Scott]

Scott continued to smile at Isolde even though it was clear that his endevour to cheer her spirits had failed miserably and inside he began to worry. Isolde had not been in Orchid Hill suring the last battle and so this would be her first. Scott recalled his earlier confusion as to her chosen group, how she just didn't seem to match up to the personality qualities reqiured of the Warriors and that confusion deepened into fear. She wasn't taking this well. At all.
She stammered over his name before suddenly sort of shouting at him, "Scott, promise me you won't die?"
Scott's smile dropped like a arrow to the ground and to tell the truth as Isolde pleaded and stuttered even more in pure panic he too began to become frightened. But not in the wa he'd ever been before. This was a different kind of fear. If Isolde had worked herself up into this state she'd never cope in battle. Never. And that scared him.
Isolde leant forward and cried into his shoulder while she sobbed inaudiable words into his shirt. A manoeuvre Scott was not prepared for and he found himself standing awkwardly while trying to set down the shield he had been about to hand over to Isolde. He looked at the next boy in line over her shoulder. A second year, mesmerized by Isolde's breakdown and it was affecting him too. Scott watched for a while as panic filled the boy's eyes.
He tugged gently at the boy's sleeve around Isolde and stood him in his place, indicating him to fill in, while he whispered softly into Isolde's ear, "Not here."
If he didn't move her she'd freak out the rest of the troops and that was exactly what they didn't need. If they were alone, he may have a fighting chance of putting this right and that was exactly what she needed.
What he needed.
Scott took Isolde's right hand in his and turned her slowly around before holding her left shoulder up and walking close to her to support her still shaking body. He walked her out of the hall into the corridor where there was a shocking peace as the doors closed in the sound of Warriors.

[Isolde Moore]

Suddenly it was also quiet. When had they gotten out into the corridor? And..how?
"Scott. I'm prepared for battle...just not the loss of lives," she had calmed down a bit, "I know it's really stupid of me to react this way and I wish I could help it, but those bastards are going to kill people I care about and I don't take well to it,"
Her voice got harder as she spoke and then she looked up at his eyes, which seemed to be full of concern so she reached out and touched his cheek, "We'll fight together?"
Her tone made it a question instead of a statement and although the hysteria had passed some, the tears continued to flow of their own accord.
What would her Head think of her if she saw Isolde like that?
What would Jack think of her?
What did she think of herself?
What did Scott think of her?
Or how did he see her? Some frail, cowardly, girl who couldn't fight or was to weak to?
She pulled the strength up and then knew what she would fight for and what she would use to fight.
Her love for Scott.
Resolved on her solution she gave a very slight smile and her eyes burned ferociously with love, compassion and strength but also mingled with hatred and disgust.
"Promise me." she said with a firm voice.

[K. Scott]

From the moment Isolde explained what she despised of fighting Scott knew they were on the same page. Losing people. That was the thing. It was fine to fight for what you believe in but it was a shame people had to die for it. Funny how those two ideas are so closely linked that often people could see the difference. Scott was not a martyr. He would fight for Orchid but he would not die for it. What he would die for was his friends. However, the greater good had to be considered.
He had been thinking lately, what was the reason for all of this? Why was there so much hatred here. Maybe he should have payed attention in history but even so. Both sides were proven to be equally matched so why bother? The last battle proved to be a complete waste of time on the Forces part. So was it bloodlust rather than cause? Scott suspected so because they'd just made it personal by aggressively removing a highly valued member of the school's community and they knew that battle would break out as a result.
So for the sake of pride, anger, hatred and blood thirst they would fight. Everyone would fight. And people would die who didn't deserve it. Who had nothing to do with anything. Who were simply unfortunate enough to get caught up in this and their lives would be lost to friends and family. And like Isolde, Scott wasn't taking well to it.
As Scott thought he watched Isolde's face and listened to her voice as she spoke from her heart. Every part of her was full of expression and emotion and life. Was that and hundreds of others worth sacrificing to perhaps ensure the safety of one other girl? He didn't think so. But perhaps he could make sure at least one stayed alive. And right now there was no one he wanted to save more than Isolde.
"We'll fight together?" Isolde's touch and voice reached him in his deep train of thought and brought him right out of it. He blinked slowly as his heart beat painfully in his chest. He stared into her eyes not quite believing the messages he was recieving from her. She wanted him with her. Badly. And so did he. Desperately.
She smiled the faintest hint of a grin, her hand still on his face, and said, "Promise me" in a voice that spoke right to his heart like no one else had.
He swallowed and stepped in close to her so that their noses were just touching.
Then he whispered, his voice intense with emotion but steady and strong, "I promise."

[Isolde Moore]

A promise wasn't a promise until the term Sealed with a Kiss was applied to it but Isolde wouldn't; forcing amybody's will was not her forté.
So when he stepped up to her that closely adn their noses just barely touching it was so sickingly hard not to just throw her arms around his neck and kiss him.
"I promise." and a kiss wasn't needed to seal it.
His voice could not me mistaken, interpreted wrongly and her heart nearly lunged up her throat and the tears, which had stopped and dried threatened to come back again. Though, for a range of different emotions this time.
Love.
Longing.
Excitement.
Surprise.
Overwhelmed.
Joy.
Scott had to be the one. And as goofy and as funny as he was, Isolde knew they could look after themselves but also each other. Now was the time.
"Scott?" she smiled and laughed then and took his hand and led him back into the training room and over to the supplies cupboard and got their gear. As she past his stuff over to him she looked at him hard and smiled her brightest smile ever and her eyes filled with hope and her heart overflowed with all kinds of emotions, "Let's do this!"

[Arihant]

ooc: For those who do not understand my graceful rendering of the Scotch dialect, a rough translation has been provided at the bottom of this post.

The silence outside the hall was very disquieting.
“What are you going to do?” Lynn asked very calmly, not looking at him.
Kennedy looked at his hands for a moment, twisting his mouth into a shape that seemed a bizarre combination of resignation and defiance, and said, “Well, I’m going to go. Kinda have to, y’know.”
Silence.
“You don’t have to,” Lynn said a moment later, equally calm, still not looking at her brother. “No one ever said you had to. Kira wouldn’t do that, right, Ari?” Her brown eyes looked over at him beseechingly.
Arihant hesitated, wondered what it was best to say. “I… don’t know,” he said slowly. “I haven’t spoken to her about this yet. Haven't exactly had the chance.”
Lynn’s eyebrows furrowed slightly. She glanced quickly at Kennedy and then back at Arihant. “Right,” Lynn said, her voice louder than before, “but do you think she’s going to force the Spies to go out?”
“I don't think that they can do that.”
“Technically,” Kennedy said irritably, and he lent his head forward and pinched the bridge of his nose. His dark hair hid his eyes. “Technically you’re right, they probably won't force me. But Sally, how d’you think it’s gonna look if I wimp out on this?”
“It wouldn’t be wimping out,” said Lynn, and Arihant resisted the urge to raise his eyebrows. He wondered if she’d be saying that to anybody else who elected to stay behind with the Academics and Carers. “You’re a Spy. You lot aren’t supposed to be fighting. It’s not your job, it’s ours.”
“Think I don’t know that?” asked Kennedy. “But still. We’re next, right?” He didn’t sound convinced. “You heard what they said. The Warriors aren’t going to be enough, and Christ, you think they’re going to send in Carers and Academics? That’d be real smart.”
“I know,” Lynn said despondently, and looked down at her lap. She and her brother still didn’t look at each other, Arihant noticed. He himself was starting to feel very awkward, as if he were intruding on a very private moment.
“But,” Lynn continued, “I know you’ve had training, and all, but you’re not… I mean, Kenny, you’re not Ailith or anything. You’re… You’re an information spy. Like a theoretical spy. What are you going to do in battle?” Her voice grew higher. “How are you going to fight?”
Kennedy sighed exasperatedly. “We’ve had training in combat. I don’t see why you don’t believe me when I tell you this.”
“Aye, combat training, indeed,” Lynn said scornfully, glaring off into the middle distance. “What, you mean a session once a week, something like that? You’re ready for a minor confrontation on a mission; you’re not ready for a battle!”
“I’m as ready as any of the other Spies are,” Kennedy snapped. He still didn’t look up from his hands. Lynn still didn’t look at him.
Lynn’s fists clenched. “Look, I’m not trying to offend you by doing this. I just –”
“You’re just trying to convince me out of it. Stop it.”
Arihant was feeling more awkward by the second.
“I’m not trying to convince you out of it –”
“Don’t lie to me, Sally, you know I can tell.”
Lynn visibly bridled. Her eyebrows shot up, and then she looked at her brother. “Don’t talk to me like that, Kenny, you know you’ll get your arse kicked.”
Kennedy raised his hand from where it had been holding the bridge of his nose to his forehead, and leant on it as if he needed support.
“Whatever,” he said tiredly, ignoring the threat. “I’m going in. I can look after myself. And though you warriors may not want to believe it, it’s my duty. Leave it there.”
Lynn bit her lip and stared beseechingly at the ceiling. It would have appeared like prayer, had her warm eyes not been so frantic. “I can’t just leave it there,” she said quietly, and hysteria stabbed through her voice.
And Arihant was gratified to see that, at last, Kennedy seemed to be taking some notice of the emotion his sister was feeling as well as his own. This situation had seemed alien before – never had Arihant known Kennedy to be oblivious to anything that his sister felt for more than a few seconds.
It just went to show how serious the situation was.
Kennedy raised his head from his hands and looked over at her. And the irritation, fear and moroseness that had been present on his face moments before were washed over by a wave of worry.
“Sally –” he started, and didn’t seem to know how to go on. Lynn didn’t say anything. Her face was growing flushed with the intensity of her fear. “Sally, you know I wouldn’t go unless it was important,” he mumbled. A glance at Arihant, then back at his sister. Red patches came up on his cheeks to rival Lynn’s. “I mean – Sally, it’s Madeleine. They got Madeleine. We need everyone we can get.”
“I know. I know, but they don’t need every spy. They can’t possibly. You don’t need to go. You can stay behind.”
Kennedy sighed. “There’s no reason for me not to fight.”
“There’s plenty of reason. You don’t even need a reason. They can't make you fight if you don’t want to!”
“Of course I don’t want to! You think all the Spies want to fight? You think everyone in the Spies wants to be the Warriors Mark 2? There’s plenty of people like me who like the Spies just the way it is – no combat, no battles, no fighting – but Sall, what would happen if all the people like me sat out on this one?”
“I don’t know,” she said quietly. “I don’t care. Kennedy, for Christ’s sake, what difference does it make to me if we win the battle and you d–?”
She couldn’t even finish the word.
And Kennedy almost laughed, but the noise was bitter. “Well, how do you think I feel every time you go charging out?” he asked. “This way is better. This way I can fight with you and we can both stay safe. And we can both know that the other’s safe.” He grew quiet for the last few words, and looked down at his hands again. “It’s the best way.”
At those words, Lynn’s face changed from the panicked desperation of a few seconds before to a firm resolve. “You’re not changing your mind,” she said. It wasn’t really a question.
“No,” Kennedy replied, and looked over at her again.
“Right,” she said quietly. “Right.” And she looked at Arihant. “Ari, we need to go get you your sword, don’t we?”
Arihant hesitated, surprised by the sudden change of topic. “Yeah. But you don’t need to come, it’s all right. I’ll go by myself.”
“No, s’fine, I’ll come with you,” Lynn said, standing up. Her hair down around each side of her face as she did so, and when she pushed it out of the way, her smile was back on her face. “I’ll need to get some armour and things.” She turned to Kennedy. “I’ll be back up in a wee minute, a’right?”
Her accent was stronger than usual.
Kennedy nodded, and his own grin came back, albeit more weakly than usual. “Sure.”
“Good good. Come-y on-y Ari,” she lilted, and grabbed his gloved hand. Then she walked over to the mirror, climbed through it, and they teleported out of the room.

And ended up standing waist-deep on the shores of the Glass Lake.
Arihant looked around, surprised to see the gently waving branches of winter trees and the glittering reflecting of clouds on water instead of the austere interior of the arena. And needless to say, he was particularly surprised to find himself entirely submerged below the waist in ice-cold water.
He turned to Lynn, asked, “What do you want me to do?”
After all, there was no way she’d take him out here for a joke at a time like this.
She looked up at him. “Get out of the water first. Then we’ll talk.”
He did so. When he was standing free of the lake, he saw steam rising from his wet clothes, and knew that Lynn was using the waves to dry the sopping fabric.
She herself was now pacing in front of him, her stride dripping with agitation.
“We can’t stop him,” she muttered while she walked, speaking as much to herself as Arihant.
“No,” he said.
“And we can’t – is there no way that we can get him forced out? Like, with his… I don’t know, with his lungs, and all. And he doesn’t see so good, and you know he won’t put on glasses or anything. Would Kira let him out for that?”
Arihant sighed. “Look, I don’t know. I haven’t spoken to her about this.”
“Aren’t you supposed to know her?” Lynn accused, stopping mid-step and turning to glare at him.
“I know her,” said Arihant. “Of course I know her. But that doesn’t mean I know what she’ll be like now. I didn’t know that you would react like this, after all.”
“Well, isn’t it bloody obvious?” Lynn bit. “He’s my brother, Ari.”
“I know, I know,” Arihant sighed. “I don’t think we can get him out for his health. Or at least, we could, but – how would he react?”
“He’d huff for a few days,” Lynn said disparagingly. “I know that that would happen. But he’d be alive.”
“You would still be going behind his back to do it. I thought that you two didn’t do things like that to each other.”
“Well, sometimes there are things that are more important than trust, Ari. Even with my brother. Like… oh, I don’t know. Keeping his heart beating, maybe?”
Her eyes shone with sharp fury.
“You don’t need to shout,” Arihant said.
“I’m not shouting.”
“You are. Just… calm down a minute, all right? We can –” He swallowed, his mouth still unused to giving advice. “We can sort this out. There has to be some way.”
“There is a way,” said Lynn. “We get them to stop him. I’m not thinking it’ll be complicated, Ari, seriously. The boy’s medical history file is the size of an encyclopaedia.”
“He’ll know you did it,” Arihant said.
“How?”
“Because he knows a lot more of what you’re thinking than you think he does, and because no one is going to check the medical history of the Spies at a time like this unless they’re told to. And he’ll know you told them.”
Lynn hesitated, her angry righteousness thrown. “Well, it doesn’t matter,” she said unsurely. “He’ll forgive me. Sooner or later.” And yet her face was drawn with pain, and Arihant knew that it was due to the mere idea of hurting her brother.
And then inspiration struck. “We can keep him safe,” Arihant said.
“I know, that’s what I’ve been sayi-”
“No. No. If he goes out, we can keep him safe. We’ll be there. We can stay near him. We can – we could protect him.”
Lynn looked at him for a moment, her eyebrows slanted in confusion. “You mean… You mean like bodyguards, or something?”
“Between us we could do it,” Arihant said quickly. “You could probably do it yourself, even. It can’t be that hard. We just – we watch out for him. I don’t know about me, but you’ve survived these battles on your own, you know how to do this. You know what to expect. He’d be safe with you. With us. And Cardo’s going out with the Field Carers too, isn’t he? We could keep him nearby.”
Lynn stared at him.
Then a moment later, she plummeted towards him like a cannonball and hugged him fiercely. Arihant flinched back out of instinct, but then saw that she had transformed her head into the metal form while she ran, and knew she was safe. Hesitantly, he patted her shoulder.
“Ari, you’re a bloody genius, you know that?” she asked, voice trembling with relief.
He felt very uncomfortable. “It’s a good idea, then?” he replied, trying to keep his discomfort out of his tone.
“It’s a brilliant idea,” she said.
“Oh. Good,” he mumbled awkwardly.
She didn’t say anything. When she spoke, she said incredulously, “You’re seriously blushing now?”
Arihant silently cursed Lynn’s ability to see heat while his cheeks blazed harder and he laughed nervously. “I’m – I’m not – used to hugs, and… stuff, you know…”
“Awk, for God’s sake!” Lynn sighed, and she let go. Her head transformed back into flesh. “Fine. Fine. So much for showing appreciation, right?”
The blush deepened. “S- Sorry.”
She stared at him for a moment longer, then grinned. “Whatever. If you weren’t socially compromised and didn’t have cheeks you could cook your Sunday roast on… Well. You just wouldn’t be our Ari, now, would you?”
Arihant laughed quietly. “Thanks.”
“Don’t mention it.”
He smiled, looked down at his feet. “We need to go back up now.”
“Aye. Don’t want Kenny bouncing off the ceiling,” she said, her disparaging words contrasting sharply with her fond tone. “We’ll get back. Here, give me your hand. We’ll go back through my metal, ‘cause idiot though he is, Kennedy might just notice if we come back soaked from the Glass Lake.”
Something occurred to Arihant. “He might just notice if we’re being his bodyguards in the battle, too,” he pointed out.
“… Right. Right. We’re going to have –”
“- to be subtle.”
“Yeah. I mean, his dignity isn’t going to take it if he knows that we’re –”
“I know. We’ll be careful.”
“Yeah.”
Arihant hesitated a moment, and then asked, “Lynn?”
“Aye?”
“Are you… I mean, are you – Are you scared?”
She looked at him with unreadable eyes. “Are you?”
A lump rose in his throat, and all he could do was nod. Then a single strangled word, “You?”
A sad smile. “Terrified. It terrifies me every time. And this – and this thing with –” She seemed to be having trouble speaking now.
“Madeleine,” Arihant said quietly. “You know, it’s stupid. I always knew I’d be going into battle sooner or later, but I never thought that it wouldn’t be Madeleine leading us. I never thought that this would –”
And something seemed to occur to Lynn. “Oh! Oh… Oh, God.”
“What?” Arihant asked, panicked.
Lynn looked at him, and her eyes were stricken. “Russ.”
Arihant paused. “…Oh, no.”
“Oh my God, I’m a horrible person,” she said, her words now tripping out of her mouth at a hundred miles per hour. “I didn’t even think – oh my God. Oh my God. He’s going to be – she’s his cousin, and I’m not even there with him, I’m not even – I didn’t even think… Oh my God, what the hell is wrong with me?”
“OK, Lynn, calm down. It’s all right. You were worried about Kennedy. We’ve got Kennedy sorted out. You can go back and find Russ now, OK?”
Panicked brown eyes for a moment longer, and then the panic abated. “All right,” she said. “All right. But I’ll speak to Kennedy first. We’ll go now.” And she held out her hand again, and her leg phased metallic.
He took her hand.

And a few seconds later, they were back outside the hall, and they were with Kennedy. And even this room was in cacophany, with people panicking and running and yelling all over the place...
But Lynn still smiled at her brother.
And his face was as white as a ghost, but he smiled at them all the same. Arihant wanted to sigh. Clearly the Delaneys didn’t do very well with admitting to how scared they were.
But then again, neither was he.
Kennedy's purple eyes narrowed, and the eyebrows above shot up. “I thought you were going to get swords?” he asked pointedly.
Arihant could almost feel Lynn inwardly swearing, but her voice was bright, and her excuse fell off her tongue as naturally as breathing. “No such luck, I’m afraid. It’s hell down there. Seriously. Have you ever been in the arena before a battle? Not pretty. They’re like scavengers for the best swords. And Ari doesn’t need the best sword, so we’ll go back in a minute. Actually” – and she turned to Ari – “Mr Superman, do you even need a sword at all? You’ve had plenty of hand to hand in our combat sessions, and you’re pretty awesome at it, you realise. The sword’ll only slow you down at this rate.”
Arihant blinked. “Lynn, if you think I’m going into this battle with no offensive powers and no weapon…”
“All right, all right, fair enough,” she said dismissively, and she turned to her brother.
And Arihant didn’t understand a word of what she said to him.
“Soh, Keyunny-boy,” she said. “Yirsell? Ye’ll be wahntin’ a wee chib fer the bahttle, theyun?”
Kennedy looked vaguely shocked, then grinned. “Ah dunnie knowuh, Sally. South’rn pahnsies nair tich us hoo t’ yoos chibs an’ suchleek.”
“Och, ye dunnie need a be taught!” Lynn exclaimed. “S’in yer nayture, sure.”
“…Aright, weyull, nair mindin’ my nayture, Sall, can Ah ask y’ sumthin?”
“Aye, ‘course.”
“Why are we talking like this?” Kennedy asked in his normal voice. And those were the first six words that Arihant understood in this conversation.
Lynn looked at him reproachfully. “Och, Keyunnedy!”
“What?”
“S’obvious, ye divit loon!”
“Och, now, Sall, no need a be harsh.”
“Theyre’s ever’ need a be harsh, trayut’r. S’not obvious, theyun? If Da knyoo tha’ y’ needed t’ be askin’ me, Ah sweyur, theyre’d be hell t’ pay..”
“Wha’s Da got a do with this?”
“Da’s got ever’thin’ a do with this! Y’think he’d be hahppy if he knyoo tha’ y’ din’t realise tha’ Ah was tryin’ a get yar blood up?”
“Mah blood?”
“Keyunnedy! Yar Warrior blood. Yar Scowutch blood. Chrissake, man, wheyre’s yer Scowutch preed?”
And Arihant couldn’t take it any longer. “I'm sorry. What the hell is going on here?”
Kennedy looked at Arihant, half-confused, half-laughing. “She’s ‘getting my blood up’, apparently,” he said.
“An doin’ a dam good jawb of it,” Lynn said, grinning.*
“Debatable,” Kennedy laughed.
“Your blood?” Arihant asked
“My so-called Scotch warrior blood.”
Arihant gave Lynn a look that quite clearly questioned her sanity. “Right…”
“Hey, you think this is bad?” she asked, with her normal accent, smiling widely. “Try living in my house. My parents speak like that all the time, y’know. As does everyone else in Inverness – or Invershnecky, as I believe they call it. And then, of course, there’s Grandma Hannah…”
And Arihant began to get annoyed with Lynn. This was idiotic, what she was doing. People were running around them, panicking, yelling, screaming, and she... she was having a family chat with her brother. This was ridiculous. And it wasn't just Arihant who thought so - it was obvious that every Warrior who went past was irritated with Lynn, too, and he couldn't blame them. Who could stand to see a smiling face at a time like this?
Lynn knew that. She must have known what she was doing, about how the other people would see this, mustn't she?
“What’s wrong with Grandma Hannah?” Kennedy asked. “Do you think she came up the Lagan in a bubble?”
Lynn grinned.
“Came up the what in a what?” asked Arihant, now getting angry. What the hell was Lynn playing at? Was she not even attempting to take this seriously at all?
“It’s just Grandma Hannah. Don’t question it,” said Kennedy.
“It’s Belfastian,” said Lynn. “We learned not to question it a long time ago. Here,” she said, turning to Kennedy, “I’m just going to take a wee look around. I need to find someone. Is that all right?”
He smiled. “It’s fine,” he said. “Me and Ari'll go get his sword. And one for me, too.”
A brief, almost imperceptible wave of pain over her face, and then the smile rebolstered. “Fair enough. I’ll be back in a minute.”
She walked away quickly, and then met Arihant’s eyes from behind Kennedy’s back. The joking had left her face, and her eyes were serious again, like they had been at the lake. Like every other Warrior in the room.
She hadn't been joking at all.
And when Arihant looked at Kennedy’s face, he realised just what Lynn had been doing. Kennedy wasn’t thinking about the battle anymore. Or Madeleine, or the people running around them, or anythign else. The fear that had drawn his mouth down at the corners, the fear that had made his eyes dull, the fear that had bleached his skin – the fear had entirely disappeared. He wasn’t thinking about it. He was distracted. He was smiling fondly, and when he saw Arihant looking at him, he said, “Seriously. The girl’s mad, right?”
Arihant nodded absently. “Yeah.”
But he could see what Lynn had been doing, and insanity had nothing to do with it. Idiocy had nothing to do with it. Denial had nothing to do with it. Fear had nothing to do it.
She was doing what everyone else in the room was doing. She was doing her duty. Or what she saw as her duty, anyway.
She was protecting her brother already.

*A rough translation.
L: So, Kenny-boy. Yourself? You’ll be wanting a wee chib ((a crude, blunt Scottish weapon, much like a club)) for the battle, then?
K: I don’t know, Sally. The Southerners ((or “Southern pansies”, if we want to be crude about it)) never teach us how to use chibs and suchlike.
L: Oh, you don’t need to be taught! It’s in your nature.
K: All right, well, aside from my nature, Sall, can I ask you something?
L: Yes, of course.
K: (Why are we talking like this?)
L: Oh, Kennedy!
K: (What?)
L: It’s obvious, you idiot!
K: Now, Sall, no need to be harsh.
L: There’s every need to be harsh, traitor. It’s not obvious, then? If Dad knew that you needed to ask me, I swear, there’d be hell to pay...
K: What’s Dad got to do with this?
L: Dad’s got everything to do with this! You think he’d be happy if he knew that you didn’t realise that I was trying to get your blood up?
K: My blood?
L: Kennedy! Your Warrior blood. Your Scotch blood. For Christ’s sake, man, where’s your Scotch pride?
[…]
L: And doing a d**n good job of it.