ladynorbert | "What, you want a little instruction?"

Title: Ray of Hope
Fandom: 'LXG: In The Mirror Darkly' - RPG
Genre: General
Character/Pairing: Rowan Bridges and Elizabeth Quatermain
Rating: PG
Notes: Written for last week's

quote_ficlets. Rowan Bridges is played by

clez, who helped me with some of his responses to things.
Summary: The League's new recruit and its "Lady Captain" face off in the training room.

Discipline and structure.

They were, perhaps, the two things Elizabeth Quatermain depended on most in herself. With as much responsibility on her shoulders as she'd been forced to take since the Romanian battle, as she referred to the bloodbath, the only way she could be sure she would get everything done that needed to be done was to keep her schedule as tightly structured as possible. For the past several months, she had begun every day with the same routine -- awaken at four in the morning, dress in loose-fitting garments, and report to the Nautilus's practice room for a vigorous workout.

She was, thanks to her father's instruction, a good shot with the elephant gun he had affectionately dubbed 'Matilda,' but rifles were of limited use against vampires; they were, however, effective for killing the gypsies and other mortal creatures loyal to the bloodsuckers. But the day was coming, and she knew it well, when she would be face to face with a vampire -- if not Tom Sawyer himself, then one of Dracula's other underlings -- and she had to be prepared. She was, therefore, devoting much of her energy to mastering the wooden practice swords in the training room. She took one from the wall and examined it for splinters or cracks; finding none, she began easing into a routine. Sid had taught her what he had learned from his dear Aineen before her death, but it wasn't enough, and she needed more.

"Do you always start your day this way?"

Elizabeth whipped around at the sound of the voice, relaxing as she recognized the speaker. "Good morning, Mr. Bridges."

Rowan Bridges, the newest member of this third-generation League and the ship's resident werewolf, stepped into the room. "I was having a sleepless morning myself, but I didn't expect to find anyone here," he explained. He hesitated. "Do you start your day this way?"

"Yes."

"By playing with wooden swords?"

"My lifestyle allows for little deviation from routine, except when absolutely necessary."

"Really." He regarded her thoughtfully. "If you don't mind my asking...when was the last time you slept for more than four hours at a shot?"

"If I knew, I would tell you," she returned sharply. Lady Captain was not used to being questioned; most of the ship's residents didn't seem to dare.

"Whoa, hey, wasn't trying to be offensive." Rowan held up his hands in a placating gesture, and Elizabeth relaxed slightly.

"I'm a little testy before I've had my coffee," she said with a trace of humor. It was her turn to eye him thoughtfully. "Mr. Bridges, you use swords, don't you?"

"Sure. What, you want a little instruction?"

"If you wouldn't mind, that would be helpful."

By way of an answer, he took another of the wooden swords and positioned himself opposite her. "All right, start like this..." They moved slowly at first, circling each other, sword points up. "Now, parry...parry...thrust..."

It was far more effective, Elizabeth thought, to actually face off with someone. She was growing more comfortable with the weapon, and she could appreciate that her sparring partner was an obvious master of swordplay. "You're going easy on me," she challenged him.

"Yes ma'am, I definitely am," he called back.

"Well, stop it! The vampires won't."

"If you insist..." He launched a series of overhand blows that proceeded to drive her backwards to the opposite wall, and it was all she could do to defend herself. Rowan actually chuckled at the look of surprise on her face. "Mine is an evil laugh!" he shouted, swinging downward. At this peculiar exclamation, he heard something he'd never heard in the short time he had been with the League -- a sound that had been heard very rarely in recent months.

Elizabeth Quatermain had started to laugh.

Perhaps it was the many nights of little sleep catching up to her at last. Perhaps it was simply that it felt so good to release her emotions in such a fashion. Whatever the reason, she became nearly hysterical with laughter; the wooden sword dropped from her hand and she leaned back against the wall, sliding down into a sitting position, clutching her sides and almost howling.

Still chuckling softly himself, Rowan could only look at her for a minute. "Come on, it wasn't that funny."

"I know...I know...I just...haven't...laughed...in so...long..." She was hardly breathing, and practically sobbed with mirth, tears coursing down her face.

Finally, once she'd calmed down somewhat, he crouched down beside her. "I've heard laughter is the best medicine," he offered.

That seemed to sober her, and she wiped her eyes. "I'm afraid in my case, Mr. Bridges, it treats only the symptom -- not the cause." She glanced up at him, grey eyes liquid. "There is nothing in the world funny enough to heal me."

After a pause, Rowan stood up again, and extended a hand to help her to her feet. "You have to start somewhere," he pointed out. "You can't be in pain all the time, Miss Quatermain. You'll die young."

"Mr. Bridges...this is the first time in six months that I've felt anything but pain."

"Glad to be of service," he replied, a bit dryly. He stooped to pick up their weapons. "Same time tomorrow?"

"Are you planning to have another sleepless morning?" she asked, surprised.

"If it'll help."

The quote was "Mine is an evil laugh!"

"What, you want a little instruction?"

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