RP Something to Remember


“We all have our vices,” Lark remarks, glancing at Lily with an enigmatic smile. From their tone it’s unclear if their statement is a joke, but it is. Gambling doesn’t hold much excitement to them when cheating is as easy as backing up a few minutes and catching their own attention. Lily took her seat just as Bandana started shuffling out the first set of cards, but he set up another pile without missing a beat.

“The more the merrier,” Ginger agrees, clearly amused. Good. They’ll need to stay on her good side to pull this off.

Lark tugs their mug a little closer with one hand holding the top of it. They don’t drink from it, just trace the worn wood with their fingertips as they watch the man opposite them divvy out the cards.

Without looking away from the cards, they pull a few more coins from their pocket, keeping their movements small. They offer the handful to Lily under the table, tapping their knuckles lightly against her thigh to get her attention and resting their hand there palm up.

Technically, they could’ve just paused time and dumped the coins in her lap, but Ginger hasn’t stopped glancing at them and it would be pretty obvious if they started flickering. They wait until Lily takes the money before retracting their hand, smoothly gathering the cards passed their way. “Any house rules?”

“No cheatin’!” The man diagonal to them exclaims, before bursting out into raucous laughter at his own joke. His drink sloshes a little when he picks it up. Seems like he’s had more than a few. Bandana laughs too, amused if not tickled pink like his friend.

“You hear that, Lily?” Lark stage-whispers, elbowing her arm lightly. There’s an all-too-familiar mischievous air about them; it’s clear they’re already considering how they’re going to break the one rule. “No cheating.”

This sets off Drunk again, and Lark grins to themself as they settle back and wait for the game to begin.

 
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Lily kept a sharp eye on the bandana-wearing dealer, more specifically on his hands. She didn’t expect them to cheat, but having seen her fair share of second dealing and bottom dealing, she was always wary over who had control of the cards.

A lightning shock went through her as she felt a hand graze her thigh, but she settled when she realized it was just Lark. Or at least, Lily tried to settle and not think about how Lark had gently touched her leg and was now resting their hand on it. She glanced down and saw the faint glimmer of coins glittering from their hand. Ah, right. Money. She quietly palmed the coins, desperately trying and possible failing to not let her hand linger longer than was necessary for the unheard transfer of change.

Once the money was secured and the cards slid her way, Lily took a glance. She was relieved to see the suits were the same, since that would’ve been confusing. She chuckled at Lark’s comment, knowing that look too well to think they would follow the rules.

“All right, Lark.” she said, mocking a child caught by a parent. “I’ll be on my best behavior.” She chuckled again, glancing at her cards once more.​
 
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The air is brisk, more than compensating for the heat of the sun still hanging high overhead. It carries with it the tang of the sea; salt and brine and old wood. Lark folds their arms over the side-railing of the boat, watching the water rush by below. The wind whips their hair out into a silver banner, but they pay it no mind.

After a minute they turn to Lily, a satisfied smile on their face as they rest their elbows on the railing. “Do I deliver on my promises or what?”

Not that there was ever any doubt. After a few rounds of cards and more than a little flirting with the captain, they’d bartered for a place on her crew for the day and won. Easily. And they didn’t even get caught cheating. Sometimes they love how easy time travel makes things like that.

The rest of the crew shuffles around the deck, checking on things here and there but allowing the two of them a moment to themselves for the most part. Ginger stands at the helm, supervising the proceedings from above. She smiles when they catch her eye, and they wave lazily. Yeah, they aren’t pursuing that any further.

“How’s it feel?” Lark redirects their attention to Lily again, something bright and alive in their eyes. “The golden age of piracy. Real life buccaneers. Genu-ine pirate ship. Is this what you were hoping for?”

 
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She should have known Lark never intended to play fair. All her poker skills, her incredible poker face, all wasted as Lark flirted and flickered their way into winning most of the pot. They’d somehow managed to take it even further, from just monetary rewards to having them be crew for the day on the ginger woman’s ship. So here they were, the wind and spray cooling the heat from the sun, the deck slowly shifting beneath their feet.

Lily couldn’t help but stare at Lark. There was just something about them in this moment, a brightness that shone so clearly. They were relaxed, they were enjoying themselves, no sign of the temporary dourness that occasionally darkened their expression. They were just smiles without a care in the world. If she could freeze this image of them and hold onto it, she would.

Lily realized Lark had asked her a question and stumbled over herself trying to respond, hoping it hadn’t been too long between the question and the response.

“It’s everything and more! Thank you, Lark.” Lily smiled sweetly at the time traveler with a mane of liquid silver. “I don’t know how you manage it. Any other surprises hidden up your sleeve?” She laughed, her eyes lingering on Lark’s for a second too long.​
 
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The moment of silence drags on and Lark holds Lily’s gaze, their smile growing impossibly more sly. They’re about to comment on her obvious awe, but she speaks up before they can settle on their words, and so they let it pass with the graciousness of a saint. The sun is heavy on their skin and their troubles seem to be tangled somewhere in the breeze that’s toying with their hair.

They shrug in response to her thanks, finally looking away when her smile proves to be too much for them. They can’t put their finger on the why, but they feel… calm. Anticipatory, but in a good way, for once. They push off of the railing and to their feet. “Maybe one or two. Or three, I do work well in threes.”

After a quick scan of the crew closest to them, Lark shuffles a step closer, angling towards her so that the wind won’t drown out their hushed question. “What was it about pirate times that you were most interested in? Just the ship, the crew, the open sea?”

The ship tilts subtly beneath them, following the motion of the waves beneath, and they rest a hand on the railing beside her to steady themself. They play it off smoothly, angling their head down to look at her from under silver lashes. They’re disconcertingly close to her now, but it’s all part of the spectacle. The show.

“Or were you, perhaps, looking for a little more adventure?” They keep the cool facade in place for a moment before something catches the attention of the crew and a warning shout is called down from the crow’s nest. Then and only then does their glee return, as they look to the horizon for the first glimpse of sails.

 
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“Heh. Past, present, and future.” Lily chuckled. “Life of a time traveler, right?”

She’d never put much thought into it, but she wondered what order she saw Lark in. For her it may have been sequential, and apart from that one time, every Lark she’d seen had vaguely seemed around the same age, if not a bit older. So far no wizened, elderly Larks had popped back in time to visit her. Perhaps they drifted apart, or maybe there was a limit to how far back they could fold back on their own timeline.

Lily was snapped out of her admittedly confusing time travel spiral by Lark stepping closer to her, their voice dropping to a whisper. They asked what she was most interested in about pirate times, and before she could formulate an answer the ship shifted, their hand steadying themselves on the rail by her. She was painfully aware of how close they were, looking down at her through silver lashes, their lips close enough that it would only take a quick motion to close the distance wait what the hell was she thinking. She hoped that Lark couldn’t hear her heart threatening to burst out of her chest, but they could almost certainly see the flush creeping along her face.

She took a moment to react to Lark’s reveal, trying desperately to rein in her emotions to not do something dumb. Fortunately, her glee took over as the warning shout fell down from the crow's nest, the first glimpses of sails on the horizon. Lily’s mouth dropped open, shifting from looking at the ship to looking at Lark in surprise.

“But I thought you said we couldn’t do any fighting. Altering the past and all that, right?”​
 
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Lark keeps their eyes on the horizon for a long moment, straightening up a little but leaving their hand on the railing. They tap their fingers against the wood thoughtfully.

“I said no killing, not no fighting, and that’s only if you can’t avoid it.” They tap two more times and step back, that showman’s grin in place once more. For some reason they almost regret the distance they’ve reopened between them, but they tamp those feelings down without examination. “These things have a way of working themselves out.”

If they were a different sort of person, they might offer her a kiss for good luck. The thought blindsides them before they can put it back in its box, and they feel their face grow warm. They take another step back with a shakier smile, trying not to dwell too long on Lily’s flushed skin or the locks of hair escaping their braids to fall against her skin or the way she turns towards them like a flower towards the sun. “Let’s go help the crew!”

They aren’t running away. They’re walking.

The next few minutes are a blur of movement and preparations. Lark does their best to keep up while also sidestepping anyone who might try to bundle them below deck ‘for their safety’. It’s harder than they remember to walk everywhere the slow way, but they’re trying not to draw too much attention to themself yet. Just another pair of hands as the crew prepares for whatever the approaching ship might initiate.

 
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For a moment, Lily thought that they’d offer her a kiss for good luck, and the thought sent heat through her cheeks, reddening her dark skin. She didn’t know whether she would lean in or away if they had, but unfortunately she was saved from that decision by Lark pulling away, those lips pulled out of her reach before she could act on any rash thought that may have been rattling around inside her head.

She followed Lark’s example, moving around with the crew, helping to prepare for the coming ship. Lily felt she was a bit harder to spot as the odd one out compared to Lark, her propensity for falling in line and helping with manual labor serving her well. She joined the crew in adjusting the sails, back and arms tightening in time with the rest, the canvas bending to their whims. She glanced towards the horizon, towards the oncoming ship, and a grin crept along her face at the prospect.
​


The Sunset Marauder cut through the water, a target in their spyglass. Her captain, Ember Khai, stood proudly at the helm, barking orders as her crew ran across the deck like so many ants from an upturned anthill. There were more honest ways to make a living than by prowling these waters for trade vessels and the like, but there were also worse ways. She never sank a ship, and left them with enough gold to make repairs.

Today’s target, however, was more of a personal affair. She knew that ship well, its captain more so. What was the saying again? Ah yes. Hell hath no fury like a woman scorned.

“No killin’ yet!” Ember howled to her crew. “Load grapples! We’ll board her and have a chat, aye lads?” The crew howled in return, the clamor of metal against metal roaring as the ship approached. They were anxious, but they would hold for her order. Fortunately, they didn’t have to wait long. As their target came into view, she let out a holler and the cannons quickly responded, crooked metal hooks hurtling forward to sink their teeth into the opposing ship.​
 
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They promised themself they wouldn’t do this. They didn’t plan on seeing her after the Last Time, but this loop couldn’t be left hanging. Causality means they’re here, means they do what they saw, means they see Lily again.

Lark hasn’t seen Lily in months. The exact number of them doesn’t matter, and even if they could track it down it’s just another timer, one that was suddenly reset to zero less than an hour ago.

They watch their past self and their past almost-something walk through the village, careful not to be seen themself. And while their past self strikes a deal, Lark ties a sash around their hair and returns to the crew they’ve been working with for the week they’ve been here. Their ship sets out first, and they keep their head down and wait for their moment.

Eventually, it’s time to set events in motion. It isn’t difficult. They’ve befriended the navigator, a young man who wanted to be a poet before his home was raided and he joined the crew seeking revenge. Lots of pirates are seeking revenge, they’ve found. It takes no more than a conversation and a suggestion to set them in the correct direction.

They slip away into the bustle of the crew once more, trusting that their captain will pick up the thread once she sees the ship they’re set to run into. She’s a good captain, but her grudge over the ‘one that got away’ is a frequent drunken lament. Honestly, it’s half of the reason why they picked this ship in the first place.



Lark is glad to have work to keep them busy, even if it doesn’t manage to distract them entirely. They’re on the line opposite Lily as the crew adjusts the sails, and they almost lose their grip when they catch sight of her bright smile, their mouth suddenly dry and their heart thudding too-loud in their ears.

They aren’t built for strength, but they’re hardly weak. They keep up with the captain’s orders, and they find themself at Lily’s side once more in the moment before the hooks hit. The deck shudders under them and wood splinters to their right. They shield their face with one hand and reach for the nearest steady object with the other, finding a familiar arm just as they pull time to a stop.

Immediately, the ship settles under them, which is almost more jarring, but they take a breath and pull Lily a few steps back and away from the explosion of splinters. “Careful there. This is where it gets fun, funky, and dangerous.”

Movement from the other ship catches their eye in the split second before time resumes, and they go tense. “Did you-?”

 
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She’d almost forgotten how good this felt. Even before her time with the Lotus, Lily enjoyed exercise. She was most at home when there was a burn in her muscles, sweat on her brow, and her breath game in short bursts. But this was even better. Was it the warmth of the sun beating onto her dark skin? Was it the crash of the waves against the hull, the occasional splash of spray and salt in the air? Or was it the silver-haired time traveler working next to her, arms occasionally brushing as they worked the sails, following the captain’s barked orders?

One of the first two, definitely one of the first two.

Another ship began to approach, and Lily was ready. Hooks launched towards them, biting into the deck to bind the two together. Lily shifted, anticipating the shuddering of the ship before stumbling, the din of combat suddenly brought to a jarring halt, the movement of the deck stopping mid-jostle. She’d only experienced this a couple times before, but it’s still surreal being within stopped time. She steadies herself, and only once she’s gotten her bearings is Lily very much aware of Lark’s arm on her own. She chuckles at their comment, hoping they think the flush in her cheeks is just from exertion.

“Fun, funky, and dangerous are my middle names.” Lily teased back, still taking in the scenery, splinters suspended in the air. A faint flicker of movement caught her eye, but before she could look closer, time resumed, the noise crashing in with the sway of the deck. She looked to Lark, an eyebrow raised as they asked the question she was thinking.

“Yeah, I did. Are you...here?” She knew how weird it sounded, but when dealing with time travel, nothing was too weird.​
 
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“I guess I am.” Lark smiles, trying to brush it off, but there’s something too calculating in their eyes. That must be the future Lark they ran into earlier. They never did hear them leave.

They’re a still point in a swarm of motion, the crew rushing towards the side of the ship to try to dig the hooks out as they’re pulled in. Lark steps closer to their friend when someone brushes by their back, glancing into her eyes and then away again.

“Hey, don’t worry about it. Lily Fun Funky Dangerous Pond, how would you like to fight some pirates?” They hold out a hand for her to clasp, fingers lazily curled.

Just as a cannon fires there’s a muted flash of light and for a moment there are two Larks standing in front of her. Lark hears the chime clearly in their mind, like standing next to a windchime. The new Lark looks about the same, but they twirl twin daggers in their hands.

“Belowdecks, third door on the right,” the new Lark says, and the other nods and hurries off before someone can notice the doubled time traveler.

The other pirates are attempting to board now, though they meet a fair resistance from the crew. Ginger is among them, her red hair like a beacon as she glares across the shortening stretch of water.

“Just let me know if you need a bail-out, yeah?” The remaining Lark continues, as though their conversation hadn’t paused. Someone swings across the way, dropping onto the deck, and they whirl like a particularly slashy hurricane to duck under the unbalanced swing of a shortsword. No movement is wasted as they slash at the pirate’s stomach and dance away again, finding their footing with a breathless, dangerous grin.

 
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Lily always thought that Lark knew when there were multiple around. She’d tried to wrap her head around the seemingly infinite loops they put together one night, and her head had spun so bad afterwards that she’d had to go lie down. Granted, the beverages consumed prior to that point probably didn’t help, but she had no idea how they kept up with it. They offered a hand to her and if she wasn’t flushed from exertion she would undoubtedly be crimson as she slipped her hand in theirs, calluses and old scars brushing against each other, rough against rough.

Another Lark appeared, and the one she was just talking to slipped away. This Lark didn’t look much different, so Lily just played along, sliding her sword out of the sheath it didn’t really need to be in. She giggled, shocking herself at the smile across her face at the prospect of fighting alongside Lark. She watched them go off, a silver blur that spun around with deadly efficacy. Lily launched herself into the fray after them, little flashes of blue, almost imperceptible in the fray, where her power came to life, blocked weapons, righted her after occasional missteps. A blade did drag down her bicep at one point, but Lily just laughed, a scar that would remind them of this incredible day with this incredible person.

Speaking of whom, Lily kept drawing herself out of the fray, scanning the deck for Lark. She’d hear a faint chime, maybe catch a flash of emerald out of the corner of her eye. They stood out to her, their hair flashing like molten silver in the sunlight. Something tugged in Lily’s chest, an ache that she refused to name, refused to acknowledge, refused to admit that she hadn’t felt since Kira and was terrified of what it meant. She fought towards them, not out of fear for their safety, but just for a desire to be close to them, to fight with them, pushing back pirates who would approach their back. She flashed them a smile, eyes shining.

“So you can fight, too. Glad to know you’re not just a pretty face.” She barked out a laugh, part nervous, part genuine mirth.​
 
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Fights are easy to get lost in. Lark spins out of the way of a slash with a twirl of skirts, steps back to catch a blade on the crossed hilts of their twin daggers, and twists again to send the sword spinning away.

Somewhere along the way they lose track of Lily, but when they get a moment to breathe and look around they find her again, catching sight of the trailing ends of the blue ribbon they’d tied into her hair. So this is where her power shines, they realize, swiping the back of their hand across their forehead.

They have to be less obvious when they’ve got appearances to maintain, but they still slip into stopped time here and there to dodge or make an opening or just to look around. To look at one person in particular, really. They work with the pauses that aren’t their own just as fluidly, the ease of old practice shining through.

Lily joins them again, and they lock eyes with her for a brief moment. Their smile mirrors her own, though it quickly falls to fluster and they turn away with the vague excuse of fending off a new attacker in the sea of people. Their voice barely rises above the din. “You think-?”

The rest of their sentence is lost, but their face burns. They catch a glancing blow across their forearm and retaliate in kind, their focus narrowing enough that they don’t notice the dagger angled towards their back.

The person wielding the dagger narrows dark green eyes in faux-menace before their gaze flicks sideways to Lily. Their hair is tucked up into a bandana, another covering their face from the bridge of their nose down, but the eyes are unmistakable.

 
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She stared for a moment, two moments, three. Lily lost track of how long her eyes were locked with those emerald ones, how long Lark had to see the blush creep through her face as she realized what she’d said, what they’d heard, the unspoken final half of their sentence. Of course she thought they were pretty, they were beautiful. Their smile when they thought nobody was looking, the gentle way they handled their younger selves, the smirk that proved they were up to no go-

The glint of sunlight against a blade pulled Lily out of her thoughts, probably for the better, as a dagger sought to bury itself in Lark's back. She moved quickly, too quickly for the pirates, just quickly enough for her. The sword came up and over, clanging against the blade and driving it down, burying its point in the wood of the deck. A booted foot came down on the crossguard for good measure, and Lily shot the would-be assassin a deadly glare.

She didn’t expect to see those eyes staring back at her from a concealed face. She could just picture the devilish smirk that was tucked away. Lily leaned back, a gentle elbow between Lark’s shoulder blades.

“Watch your back, darlin’. I won’t always be around to watch it for ya.” Lily chuckled, a faint imitation of Lark’s southern drawl finding its way into her speech as she turned her attention to the would-be-assassin Lark. “Now don’t take it easy on us.” Stepping off the blade and giving Lark enough time to bring it up, Lily opened with a slash to the midsection, a grin spread across her face, even if the edge of her blade had somehow become blunted in the interim. Two on one, although did it count if the one and one of the two were the same person?​
 
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The dagger-wielding Lark lets go of their blade easily, their grip on it too light for it to have been a real threat. They step back half a step, their remaining dagger twirling in their hand and glinting where it catches the sunlight.

The other Lark just looks confused. They turn to take in the unfolding scene, something almost like disappointment in their eyes. The Larks exchange glances, something unspoken passing between them, and as Lily steps forward there’s a moment that isn’t.

As Future Lark steps around a time-frozen Lily to retrieve their blade, the younger Lark places their foot where hers had been just a moment ago. “Why are you doing this?”

They don’t get their answer. Time resumes with a shudder and the older Lark is forced to dart back as Lily slashes at them. It’s odd though - they start moving before she initiates the movement, and the hit is barely a glancing blow.

“They know all my moves,” the younger Lark tells Lily in a rare moment of unveiled honesty. Their own blades flash, but true to their words the other Lark barely has to glance at them to dodge the slashes. “And all of yours, so long as I’m here.”

“I wouldn’t worry about fairness,” Future Lark finally speaks, retrieving a short club from a loop at their hip. Their voice sounds just a little stilted, like they’re reading a script.

And then they finally make their own opening move. Time flickers again, and the younger Lark stumbles behind as the elder aims a blow at Lily’s shoulder.

 
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Even before she’d known she had powers, before she found out she was able to manifest weaponry, Lily had sparred like hell. She knew the way fighting was supposed to feel, when someone was fighting for fun, for something to prove, or when their life was on the line. She could tell by how easily Lark’s blade slipped from their grasp that they had meant for it to. Lily notes the confusion on the younger Lark’s face as there’s a skipped moment, a second that she had not been privy to. Positions changed, and her slash was easily dodged. Younger Lark’s strikes were similarly parried with the ease of someone who had been warned a few months in advance.

The club hit her shoulder, and Lily took the blow in stride, grunting slightly at the impact. She’d certainly have an interesting bruise tomorrow, something to remember this day by. Younger Lark piped up, not only confirming Lily’s suspicions, but explaining the reason behind it. Of course the older Lark would know how this all happened, they’d seen it all happen.

Lily had a plan. A bad one, one that literally only came to mind because of how she thought about something, but it was a plan nonetheless. She turned to the younger Lark, a devious smile flashing across her face. That smile was the source of a great many drunken stories told at parties, and even more that would be taken to the grave. She held out her hand to the Lark fighting by her side.

“They can’t know what you’re doing if you can’t see. So just close your eyes, Do you trust me?”

And whether or not they took her hand, Lily charged the opposing Lark. Her blade swung towards the knees before a follow-up aimed at their shoulder, a mirror of their own previous attack. And if they trusted her, she’d be leading along the younger Lark, guiding their steps, shouting where to slash and stab.​
 
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It’s hard to read Lark’s expression with the bandanna obscuring their face, so they don’t bother trying to fight back the bittersweet smile twisting their lips. They remember this moment, and for an instant it’s like they’re in their past self’s shoes all over again.

Heavens, that smile. It’s the same one she wore back when they met her for the first time - the first time for her, that is. There’s something to be said for repeated exposure to that smile, and the palpitations it sent their heart into when she asked them to trust her. Again, though she wouldn’t remember the first time nearly as well as they do. No one remembers things like they do.

It’s novel watching admiration bloom on their own face, and although they glance away they can still feel the phantom of it unfurling in their chest like a held breath. They take the opportunity to swap their dagger for another short club, sheathing the blade in a holster at their thigh. They really do not want to hurt Lily any more than they have to.

“I trust you.” And then the younger Lark’s eyes slam shut, their palm hitting Lily’s, and Lark’s memories of the moment become more impressionistic. They stop trying to remember and focus on the fight at hand.

Lily ducks in with a low slash, their younger self gripping tight to her non-dominant hand. Lark knocks the sword off-course with their club, the blunted blade dragging in a shallow graze to the side of their knee. She presses the advantage and they pause time on instinct.

When she keeps moving in the stopped time Lark curses under their breath. They should’ve anticipated that, but they don’t often-

No, that’s not right. Never. They’ve never fought like this.

The moment of surprise earns her a more solid connection and Lark a matching bruise on their shoulder. The younger Lark dips in with a slash to the arm that they just barely avoid, and time resumes.

The boat rocks underfoot and Lark, more accustomed to the motion than they had been a few months ago, keeps their footing. The other Lark does not, and they narrowly avoid some friendly fire when they go to grab Lily’s arm with their dagger-wielding hand.

Lark presses forward again, a few quick blows aiming to separate the two. They don’t hit very hard but they’re fast even without being able to slip between seconds.

 
While this isn't the first time that Lark has confirmed their trust in her, it still causes a tightness in Lily's chest how easily and willingly they close their eyes and take her hand. She's not sure what she did to earn their trust so completely, but Lily makes a silent promise to herself in that moment never to lose it.

Her slice goes wide, dragging into Lark's knee. Lily goes for a follow-up before she stumbles, the movement of the ship beneath her stopping abruptly. It's disconcerting, and Lily's mind flashes back to one of the only other moments she's experienced stopped time, running through the streets with a much younger Lark clinging to her back.

As the memory surfaces, the ship lurches into motion once more. Lark almost grazes her arm with their dagger and Lily works to steady them both. Lark is faster than she expected, and they're on the two of them in a matter of seconds. A flurry of blows rain down upon them, and Lily lets go of Lark's hand for a moment, spinning around to slice at Lark's ankles before connecting with the younger Lark once again, a solid grip to remind them that she's got them, that she's not going anywhere.

Lily adjusts herself, ensuring that they aren't too jarred by her shifting, and move forward with them as one, using her body weight to launch Lark forward, turning the dagger in their hand into the end of a whip, the whole while searching the bandana-clad face for any sign of pain or uneasiness. She really doesn't want to hurt Lark more than she has to.​
 

She lets go of their hand, and Lark freezes. They keep their eyes shut because they trust her, but they’re twitchy and uncertain until a calloused hand collides with theirs and they’re tugged along. Warm, the fingers shorter and thicker than their own -- Lily, guiding them again.

It’s a dance they don’t know the steps to, the tempo getting faster and faster as the elder Lark chains timestops together with shorter and shorter pauses between. Lily spins them out and they flip their grip on their dagger for a blind backhand slash, their eyes squinting open on instinct.

They watch as the dagger slices cleanly through the side of their future self’s shirt and opens a cut along their arm to compliment the other scars they’ve received over the years. In that stolen instant, the other Lark looks proud.

Lark feels the secondhand lurch as they attempt to stop time again, and their eyes widen as time refuses. The feedback hits the elder Lark like a blow to the head. Lark drops their dagger and Lily’s hand, reaching out to steady themself like they have so many times before.



Lark squints through surprised-pained-warm tears and they forget themself. There’s a person with a weapon near their defenseless-disarmed-reeling younger self. Light glints off of a glowing blade and their body reacts before their mind can catch up.

Both batons come down hard toward the weapon, spaced to twist and disarm and leverage whatever advantage they can make until the threat is neutralized.

 
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Lily caught the glitter in Lark’s eyes as their younger self’s dagger draws blood. There’s pain, yes, but there’s also pride at the successful hit. Lily couldn’t help but smile too, grateful for that part she’s playing in this, that she’s allowed to play. Everything went weird as both Larks recoil, the younger Lark letting go of her hand. Lily reached for them, unsure of what’s happening. They’re reaching for someone, and Lily went to steady them before she caught a flash of movement out of the corner of her eye.

Instinct took over, thousands of hours of training that had honed her body into a weapon condensing into the handful of seconds that could mean the difference between life and death. The batons crashed down against Lily’s sword as she raised it to defend herself, jerking the weapon out of her hand. Lily didn’t try to hold onto it, knowing that would just cost her precious seconds. While her opponent was focused on removing her main, they didn’t even think she might have a secondary.

And Lily Pond always has a secondary weapon on hand.

She dipped and spun, moving away from the younger Lark for just a moment, hoping those precious seconds of overcompensation by her opponent will be enough, they have to be enough. Something in her mind yelled that if it isn’t enough, they could always stop time to get out of the way, but Lily ignored it. Another weapon coalesced in her hand and Lily swung it around, not caring about Lark’s warning about killing to protect the timeline, thoughts of protecting her only friend filling her mind.

Too late she recognized the flash of sun on silver.

Too late did she pull her slice short.

Too late did Lily twist the blade, too late to prevent it from lopping off a portion of Lark’s hair. As the slice was aborted, Lily just stood there, panting, her face a fragile mask of apology hiding a surge of horrible feelings that well up inside her.

“Sorry. I thought you were-” She couldn’t even think up a good enough excuse. They were just sparring, how the fuck did she forget it was Lark.

“I’m sorry.” She muttered quietly.
​
 
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