A Garden of Flowers and Bones [Lloyd Garmadon x Reader]

Chapter 12: But still the bait hanging from the string is calling my name

and like the wind, it slips again
out of my fingers

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"WOOOOOOOO! GO GLORY!! GOOOO-!!" Dareth yelled just off the dirt expanse, jumping with his arms in the air like a raving madman.

"GLORY! GLORY!" Malik chanted.

"GET 'IM!" Gayle jeered as the young woman landed a particularly good hit after a swift parry.

"YEAAAAHHH, GLORY! YEAHHH!" Dareth screamed, and Malik's yell overlapped his own.

"LET'S GOOOOOO! WOOOOO! YES!"

"Bless her, she's really trying..." Roise mumbled.

She was Gayle's friend and so they were there together, standing side by side. Her son, Nelson, was busy hanging out with some other teens his age. In the meantime, she watched the absolute smack down of the local bakery spectacle.

"Don't pity her. She wouldn't want that," Balthazar frowned with no heat behind it.

"What's the point of it all...?"

"Ehh... that's a deep question... all existentialism should be left for two o'clock at the earliest, Roise."

"She's asking what the point of Gloria fighting is, you imbecile," Gayle informed their ditzy boss, who sheepishly ran a hand through his hair.

"Oh."

"Who knows what the point is," Malik shrugged, "But it's Glory... you learn not to question Glory."

"She's tenacious, I'll give her that..."

Dareth perked up at the use of that word, before turning back to the sound of clashing metal, cheering over again as the young lady delivered a well-practiced parry.

"GO GLORIA- YEAH!" Gayle yelled, narrating the small fighter's actions from the crowd, "ANOTHER SWING, AND-! YES! YOU'VE GOT HIM ON THE ROPES-!"

"YEEAA-" At the same time, both Malik and Gayle's cheers were cut off, followed by audible winces as she landed on her knees once more, "Oohhhhh... never mind..."

"Oh- oh no..."

As always, Beathán was stood over her by the end, a small smile on his face and a blunt sword blade at her chin.

"Point."

"I got it..." 

Disappointed, Y/N cracked her individual knuckles and then the first digits of her fingers, not paying attention to the way Beathán's smile fell. A little act of revenge- but, well... not really. She was doing it for her own comfort's sake, shaking her hand in the air to get rid of light sting left behind. The blade pulled away from her face, the tip landing solidly at his side in the dirt.

She'd hit the weakness in her left again. Now her foot was throbbing.

"Major oof," Dareth shook his head, shoulder's growing lax.

"There she goes... another sweeping loss with no hope of recovery."

"She'll get him next time," Dareth awkwardly patted Gayle's shoulder, and she quickly brushed his hand off.

There was a short pause occupied by the whispers of other onlookers. Balthazar let out a low whistle. Then, Malik excitedly started up again.

"BEATHÁN! LET'S GOOOO! ANOTHER ONE IN THE BAG, I KNEW YOU HAD IT IN YOU, MAN!"

"Hey!" Dareth shot him a glare.

"What? I like to be on the winning side."

"We're here to support her. It's important to root for the underdog."