light_mischief | [come sail away] ic inbox (season 1)

"... and you never told me?" there's genuine disappointment in her voice, "we could have been sparring this whole time?"

Another person to practice against with no chance that she'd accidentally cut and injure him, and another reason to spend time with him. It sounded perfect.

...too perfect, and straying too close to needing him. Too close to the whole... fatherly thing she had still been pointedly avoiding. He was right, he had no sailing experience, and she'd only suggested it out of excitement that he'd want to be going with her at all. Darcy needed to rein herself in.

"You're probably right. I should probably find someone who knows how to sail or something."

Back to her usual disaffected demeanor, her practiced neutrality.

"Something like that. Anyway, it's super late, I should probably try and get some sleep," she notes while checking her phone as if it was an actual observation about the time and not a convenient excuse to get out of there.

"I... haven't exactly kept up with the skill since the turn of the 20th century." It seemed completely irrelevant. To him, it would be the same as mentioning that he baked bread once when she told him she enjoyed cooking.

But apparently, that was the wrong assumption to make, as he sees Darcy's walls rebuild themselves almost instantly. He really should have known better, given that swordsmanship isn't only a major hobby of hers but something ingrained into her core. But he hadn't. He hadn't thought about how she might want to practice with him, or that she might want lessons with broadswords, now that she had that bag of hers. He hadn't thought about it at all.

("You are such an idiot," Valkyrie hisses from behind. Skulduggery moves his hand instinctively to swipe at thin air, catches himself before it looks too odd, and instead folds his arms over the tabletop.)

"...Yes," he agrees, nodding. "You're right. And successes make for decent sleep." So he's heard, anyway. So he hopes. She needs more rest than she's likely getting, especially if she's been keeping watch for Dimitri. "I'm..." Sorry? He wants to say it, but she'll probably just brush it off. Even if she didn't, he'd probably make it worse in the apology. "...Thankful that you came along. I don't think I would have been as clear-headed all night if it weren't for you."

It's a little bit embarrassing, being reminded that not everyone who can use a sword is planning on living and dying by the blade. Maybe her sample size is a bit skewed considering the sort of people she's friends with; Dimitri and his fire for vengeance, Izzy and his clear striving for excellence. She's a zero or one hundred kind of girl, the sort of person who doesn't start things unless she's happy to be the best at it. Having a skill that you don't use is an entirely foreign concept to her.

Darcy remembers after a moment that the people here tend to notice her walls coming back up, tend to be aware that she's not just a cold disinterested bitch, and she forces herself to ease them down a little. She's not mad at him, and it's not a deliberate move against him, especially since he seems genuinely grateful for the help.

Offering a fist out and a small smile, she says- "Don't mention it, ehn? I'm here to help if you need me, with anything."

Less a full defense and more a momentary prickling, then. He can tolerate knowing that he's brushed up against something rawer than he'd realized, so long as it doesn't lead to more silent treatments and tactical avoidances.

"You are, indeed, here if I need you." He returns the proffered fistbump without a second thought, which should really say something. "And likewise, if you need me, don't hesitate to find me." Not that he suspects she will -- she's got more friends now than when they first arrived, and plenty of people to turn to for help. He suspects that Darcy, like most everyone else, will only truly need him whenever the world looks like it's about to end. That's fine. It's a more familiar position to be in.

It would be nice to be able to accept that offer. Really. In her sleepless daydreaming sometimes she would envision being able to talk to him about small things. Arguments she gets into with her friends, things she's noticed, books she's been reading. It's hard not to notice that they've been spending less downtime together since the rain incident, less of those entirely neutral periods of just being in each other's company.

But Skulduggery knows that he can count on her, and that's enough. It's probably a relief that he doesn't have to go through the motions of dealing with her on a daily basis. Darcy knows she's good in a fight and under pressure, knows now that she can even get better at the situations she's less practiced with, and that's all she needs, to be at his disposal when he needs her. Anything else to do with dad-ing is probably just the result of misplaced grief and her own weakness. She's not going to want impossible things anymore, and especially not when the people involved tell her it's not happening to her face.

"I know," she says, and pats him on the arm as she departs, leaving the tea behind.

[come sail away] ic inbox (season 1)

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