The Merry Men Masquerade

9. Polychrome

"Stabbed in the back. Literally."

Ronan landed face-first in the dirt to an eruption of cheers.

Well, one cheer. One explosive, grating cheer.

Ronan turned his cheek onto the grass and said, "Shut the fuck up, Mitch."

Mitch let out a final exuberant Whoop!

"I take it you're done for the day?" came Amir's voice. Ronan responded with a humph into the grass, and Amir chuckled above him. 

Ronan hadn't anticipated an audience when he'd taken Amir up on his offer of a morning spar. The sessions had become somewhat of a regular thing, and Ronan could proudly proclaim that he was getting rather good with a knife, but Amir still had the upper hand and it showed in the transient array of bruises and scrapes covering Ronan's body at any given time.

That morning, Felix had noticed them through a window not long after they'd begun, and it hadn't been too long before a crowd of four had gathered.

"We've got breakfast inside, you know," said Tony. "No need to eat the dirt."

"Leave him be," chimed Vito. "He wants a little snack, is all."

A very annoying crowd of four.

"I think you're doing great!" assured Felix.

A very annoying crowd of three and an angel.

Mitch snarked, "I think Felix is a liar."

"Why don't you try it, then?" Ronan suggested breezily, pushing himself onto his knees. "Since you've got so much to say, let's see you do better."

It was a cheap escape, but Ronan didn't feel for fighting anymore. He didn't much mind the heckling, but he was finding that he preferred the sparring sessions in private. He wasn't entirely sure what to make of that, but his gaze was wistful when he glanced back and saw Amir nodding his head toward Mitch, challenging.

Ronan situated himself in the grass at Tony's side. Felix made himself comfortable right away, settling between Ronan's legs. Ronan dared to look over Tony's shoulder and was immediately caught; Vito grinned his way, and Ronan pushed a smile and hoped it met his eyes.

He and Vito had been– fine, lately. The same as they'd always been, at least on the surface, but Ronan was plagued by the ever-present knowledge that they were two trains traveling in opposite directions. They would either sweep past each other or collide, but Ronan couldn't imagine that they'd ever be on the same path again.

He watched Vito throw his head back in raucous laughter as Mitch was flattened in an instant and hoped desperately that he was wrong.

By the third time Mitch had been knocked off his feet, they were all breathless. Red in the face and winded, Mitch admitted, "I may have underestimated Amir."

"Overestimated yourself, you mean?" jeered Vito. He hardly dodged when a – sheathed – knife was chucked his way. "Christ!"

"Your turn," Mitch huffed.

Vito retrieved the knife and approached Amir, but not without disclaiming, "Let it be known that I'm aware of how this will end for me."

He made a valiant effort to avoid Amir's first strike, but sure enough, he was knocked off balance in seconds. Ronan felt Felix flinch against him – that fall had looked like it hurt.

When the knife was handed off to Tony, she fared far better than the rest, too nimble for Amir to trip up. Impossibly light on her feet, she darted out of his range and evaded his strikes with deftness and flexibility he couldn't match. Amir grinned at the challenge.