“Haaaaaah!”
Daz’s war cry split the air over the First Order’s training complex, his sword carving a merciless path towards Lloyd—only for Lloyd to sidestep clear of it in one short motion. Daz clicked his tongue. He followed up with a second and a third strike, all missing the mark.
The onlooking knights watched in awe from the stands. The duel was only a training exercise, the swords made of wood, but the skill and intensity on display had them all on the edge of their seats.
Last time, Daz had managed a victory against Lloyd. However, a single triumph, set against a backdrop of countless defeats, appeared to everyone, including Daz himself, as nothing more than a stroke of luck. Eager to prove it was more than just chance, Daz had entered this bout full of determination, but as the fight progressed, that determination quickly began to wane.
“I can’t freakin’ hit him!” he growled in frustration. He’d tried every angle and tactic he knew, but none of his attacks came close to landing. Exhaustion and irritation began to take their toll on Daz as he sustained his futile project to land a blow. Lloyd, conversely, was in a state of sharp focus, vastly different from his fugue just two days prior. His senses were heightened, his mind crystal clear. Every aspect of Daz’s swordplay—his gaze, his movements, his breathing patterns—was apparent to Lloyd. It was as if he could predict Daz’s every move, allowing him to dodge with an almost precognitive accuracy.
Lloyd’s eyes narrowed with intent, and he uttered a single word under his breath: “Now.”
Daz, overcommitting to a powerful swing, left his torso exposed. Seizing the opportunity, Lloyd moved with lightning speed, darting beneath Daz’s raised arms.
“What?!” Daz could barely register Lloyd’s rapid advance before he found himself unbalanced. His legs were swiftly swept from under him, sending him crashing to the ground. He scrambled to defend himself, but it was too late—the tip of Lloyd’s sword already loomed over his neck.
“And that’s game,” Lloyd said calmly, addressing a stunned Daz who was still trying to comprehend his swift defeat.
“Lloyd wins!” the referee bellowed, igniting a wave of cheers among the spectators—the compelling comeback story seemed to have sparked their fervor.
Defeated, Daz lay sprawled on the ground. “No way...” he muttered in disbelief as onlookers filed into the arena from the stands.
“I hate to say it, Daz, but Lloyd had you outclassed!” one knight commented.
“His speed is unreal,” added another, clearly impressed. “One moment he’s there, the next he’s right up in Daz’s face!”
Luke, ever the enthusiastic squire, sauntered into view. “Well fought, Master Lloyd! Here, your towel!”
Lloyd, however, was focused on extending a hand to help Daz up. “You let your frustration get the better of you, Daz. Your swings became sloppy, giving me ample room to exploit them.”
Daz, accepting the hand, conceded, “Anyone would lose their cool seeing their attacks dodged like that. Good duel.”
“Good duel, but...” As Lloyd pulled Daz to his feet, an enigmatic spark glinted in his eye—a glint that scared Daz very, very much. “You still lack stamina. I’m adding another hundred laps around the royal castle to your regimen.”
“W-Wait, Lloyd, we can talk about this!” Daz’s desperate plea echoed across the training grounds.
✦ ✦ ✦
As lunchtime arrived, Lloyd opened the lunch box Chloe had prepared, taking a satisfying bite. A contented “Mmm” escaped his lips, not just from the meal’s flavor but also from the satisfaction of his return to form. Reflecting on his decisive victory over Daz, Lloyd felt a sense of equilibrium restored, attributing this newfound clarity to his heart-to-heart with Chloe the previous night.
However, his moment of reflection was interrupted by a sudden weight on his shoulders. “He’s back. He’s finally back,” a jaunty, familiar voice teased.
“You’re heavy, Vice Commander,” Lloyd replied without turning.
“Ope, my bad.” Freddy quickly straightened up. “Just glad to have our ace back in MVP form is all. We’ve missed ya, buddy.”
“Thanks to you.”
“Not to me, no.” Freddy shrugged his shoulders theatrically. “It’s thanks to Chloe, isn’t it? Thank goodness you two sorted things out, or I would’ve had to do something about it.”
“Like I said, we weren’t fighting.”
“But you won’t deny it was because of Chloe?” Freddy prodded, an impish chuckle escaping him.
Lloyd hesitated, then admitted partially, “Chloe wasn’t at fault. It was me and my own immaturity.”
While it was true from a certain point of view, that hadn’t been the whole story, and Lloyd knew it. He just couldn’t bring himself to tell his commanding officer the whole ordeal had been much ado about nothing.
“You think I don’t know?” Freddy smirked knowingly. “You were simply so smitten with Chloe that you couldn’t focus on anything else, weren’t you?”
Lloyd almost choked on his teriyaki chicken. Hastily wiping his mouth, he shot Freddy an annoyed look, only to see him burst into laughter. “Bull’s-eye!” Freddy exclaimed, thoroughly amused. “Oh, don’t be so hard on yourself, Lloyd. Happens to the best of us. When I first started dating Sara, I was so lovestruck I barely made it to work. Thank goodness she had the strength to literally drag me out of the house, or I would’ve...”
As Freddy went on another of his gushing rants, Lloyd returned his attention to his lunch, wanting to spare himself the conversation. At the same time, though, he felt a hint of relief and camaraderie in knowing Freddy had gone through the same thing. But then, an unexpected line from Freddy forcibly snapped Lloyd back to attention. “So, when’s the wedding?”
How the conversation went from his recollections to this, Lloyd would never know. “Wedding?” he said, looking up in confusion.
“I know this can’t be the first time you’ve heard the word, so stop making that face,” Freddy shot back. “Yes, the wedding. Marriage! It’s the natural next step when you’re dating, isn’t it?”
Lloyd fell silent, contemplating a future he had never really allowed himself to pay any regard. “We’ve only just started dating. I didn’t know marriage was something to plan so early.”
“You’re getting married, Master Lloyd?!” Luke once again appeared out of nowhere, his voice loud enough to draw the attention of the surrounding knights.
“Didja hear that? Lloyd’s getting married!” one knight whispered to another.
“You’re putting me on! And here I thought he’d be the last of us to settle down.”
“It’s gotta be with that cute little Chloe, eh?”
“Her, huh?”
Amid the growing buzz, Lloyd let out a deep sigh.
“It’s a bit of a shame, though, isn’t it?” Luke chimed in. “A man as attractive as Master Lloyd could’ve fooled around a little before settling down.”
“I am not you. I do not ‘fool around,’” Lloyd admonished.
“Just look at him, Luke,” Freddy said. “Does he seem like the type to play the field?”
Luke, catching on, nodded sagely. “You make a good point, sir! The only thing Master Lloyd fools around with is his sword!”
Lloyd was not amused. “Luke, all I’m hearing is that you want to join Daz in running an extra hundred laps around the castle.”
“Ah! No, no, Master, please, anything but that! I was just joking—I didn’t mean anything by it, truly!”
As Luke clung to Lloyd, half in tears, Freddy shrugged a resigned shoulder. “Well, where’s the rush? You two are just starting out, after all. It’s all about learning as you go. Though, considering you’ve been living together already, I guess not much has really changed.”
Lloyd gave Freddy’s astute observation a half-hearted nod. Indeed, their lives hadn’t dramatically changed since the night of his and Chloe’s confessions. The heart felt it keenly, but it hadn’t yet manifested in any overt changes.
“That being said,” Freddy said, interrupting Lloyd’s train of thought. “Give your future with Chloe a proper think, won’t you? She’s wonderful, you know. A girl like her who accepts you for who you are so readily won’t come around twice.”
Lloyd couldn’t help but sense an undertone of expectation in Freddy’s voice—an almost inevitable conclusion that he and Chloe were to be together. “I...know that, Vice Commander,” he replied, his mind wandering.
Lloyd was acutely aware of his peculiarities, how far removed he was from what was considered “normal.” Chloe’s love for him, therefore, necessitated a matching eccentricity on her part. But besides that, Freddy was exactly right—Chloe was a wonderful girl, perhaps too wonderful for someone like him. The idea of a future without her was unimaginable; she had become an irreplaceable part of his life, almost to the point that he took her for granted.
“As long as you’re aware.” Freddy said with a wry smile, patting Lloyd’s shoulder. “Good luck,” he whispered softly. “And don’t forget to invite me to the wedding, yeah?”
“I’ll let you know,” Lloyd replied.
“And me as well!” Luke eagerly added.
Lloyd looked away.
“M-Master Lloyd?! Why did you ignore me, and only me?! Master Lloyd?!”
Lloyd, tuning out Luke’s exclamations, pondered to himself. Marriage still seemed so distant, so abstract a concept, and yet it felt like an inevitable step if he wished to continue his life with Chloe. This realization came to him as the lunch hour drew to a close, a bridge he knew he would eventually have to cross.