A Court of Wards and Shadow

chapter four

warnings: (18+ mdni) mentions of war and violence, anxiety/depression, panic attacks, mentions of assault, suicidal thoughts/tendencies

disclaimer: this fic in no way represents any of sarah j. maas' work or ideas, it is for purely fictional/personal entertainment purposes

///

over the next two weeks i find myself following the priestesses to their afternoon training sessions. i don't know why i do it. maybe i'm just trying to punish myself. i don't know. all i know is every day after lunch, i find myself sitting in the corner of the training ring watching. i never join or engage, just observe.

during the few afternoons azriel makes an appearance, he always glances my way, giving me an acknowledging nod as he enters the training ring. but that's the extent of his interaction. he doesn't look my way as he instructs the priestesses or say another word to me about joining. if it weren't for the initial nod my way, i would think he didn't even know i was there.

the same cannot be said for nesta though. every day she pesters me relentlessly during the training sessions, badgering me to join. and every day i refuse.

except for today.

when nesta approaches and asks me to join, i surprise myself by nodding and pulling myself up from the spot on the ground i have sat every afternoon. i notice a glimmer of surprise on nesta's face before it is overtaken by a broad smile. i keep my expression neutral, hiding my own shock.

"we'll start with the basics. simple strength training exercises. you'll need to develop a good base of muscle and strength before we move on to any actual fighting techniques. that is, if you decide you would like to learn that, it's all up to you," she quickly adds, hesitant about overwhelming me and scaring me back to my corner.

"alright," i respond simply, offering her a small smile, still unsure what possessed me to agree. the thoughts of shame and unworthiness start to rise to the surface again as i follow nesta out onto the training ring, but when i look across the arena to find azriel watching me, a ghost of a smile on his face, the feelings fade to the background.

and just like that my training begins.

* * *

an hour later i'm lying flat on my back on the floor of the training ring, staring at the sky, every inch of body coated in sweat. the workout nesta directed me through was much easier than anything i had seen the priestesses do over the last two weeks of observing, but it still left my lungs heaving for air and muscles screaming for rest. despite the pure exhaustion racking my body, i can't help but smile at the feeling rushing through me right now. the guilt and shame that have been an ever present cloud over me since my rescue are nowhere to be found. instead all i feel is a sense of control, a power i have never felt in my entire life.

and that feeling is what has me coming back the next afternoon.

and the next.

and the next.

every day i wake up with new sore and aching muscles and i smile through the pain as i drag myself out of bed. the mornings crawl by as i count down the hours until training. and the afternoons disappear into a haze of sit-ups and lunges and sweat and hard work. i collapse into my small bed every night and fall almost immediately into a deep sleep, so exhausted from the endless list of brutal exercises that even the continuing horrors of my nightmares don't bother me as much as usual.

days blur into weeks and the weeks turn into a month. i find myself lasting longer in training, able to do more difficult exercises, and not struggling to keep up with the other priestesses like i was just a few weeks ago. the shame and disgust i used to feel when looking in the mirror has transformed into a sense of pride and accomplishment as i notice all the places on my body that muscles are starting to harden and develop.