🤺 Fencing with Rising Tensions
A chapter that I thought would be cool but that I couldn't figure out how to write without making it 3 chapters (which is something I would rather not do), and make it fit into the story so I scrapped it. In any case, since I haven't updated in months due to this chapter, I thought I might as well post it. After I've finished this story, I may get to it eventually after I edit the other chapters! But consider it 'non-canon' for now. The actual chapter will be posted soon!
The unwanted layers hugged your sweaty skin like a thick blanket on a hot summer night. Rather than paying any attention to it, or showing that it bothered you, you instead paid close attention to the words of the middle-aged man driving the carriage.
"Are you sure that nothing got left behind? We left in quite a rush. It was my fault I know, but I hope that you came with everything you needed." He asked.
"I was fully prepared hours before you came rushing to my door in a hurry, crying about how you had lost track of time and some important papers or something." Your muffled voice replied. You had to talk at a higher volume to be heard through the mask you were wearing. Even then it didn't change the fact that others would instantly recognize your voice as that of a child transitioning to their teenage years. Nothing else would hint at it except for your height, since you were dressed in a soft fencing outfit that covered every part of your body.
"Do you mind if I go through the list then?" The man requested. When he received a nod in reply, he shifted the horses' reins to his left hand and listed off the items with his right. "First thing that I didn't get to check correctly was if your outfit was put on properly."
The receiver of the question began to wiggle and shake her limbs as if she was doing an awkward dance in her seat. Nevertheless, everything remained still, proving that there was nothing loose.
Gaining your composer you said, "Not a single thing out of place."
"Good. The helmet's on nice and tight then I suppose?"
This time you went and tried to simply pull it off your head. Without unlatching the two secret chains attached on the inside, it stayed put. In this way, if anyone tried to yank off the helmet to find out your identity, nothing would happen except a slight tug.
"Secured."
"Great. And are the err... chest bindings in place?"
"I put it on just as the doctor instructed, but you'd have to be the one to tell me if you can see anything," you answered back without hesitation.
"Uh, nope. It looks like we're all good to go Y/n!" The man returned to holding the reins with both of his hands. He then looked at their companion one more time before adding on, "Aw, I still remember how you just needed padding under the outfit two years ago to look like a boy."
"Yes, but I've matured since then Father." You replied calmly.
"Of course, you're becoming a young lady! But you also know what that means right? This'll be the last youth tournament you can compete in by the rules of age, and it would be too difficult hiding your identity in the young adult's competition."
"I'm well aware of that and I'm prepared to go out with a bang," you declared with newfound zeal. "And now I'm going to be asking you questions. Did you take my advice when you were speaking with the fathers of other competitors and the judges?"
"I have, and let me say that it was a truly brilliant idea on your part. By dropping 'subtle' hints in conversation, the rumors going around now is that you are simply a family friend's child who I sponsored after witnessing their talent. There is no chance of them finding out that Y/n L/n is competing in a boys' fencing competition. Not only that, but your idea to give your mother a generous amount of money to go out shopping with her friends worked perfectly to have her gone for a bit while you compete!"
"Thank you, I'm just happy that it worked," you tried to say humbly, but not without mentally patting yourself on the back.
While horse hooves stomped and wooden wheels creaked, you and your father enjoyed a few moments of peaceful tranquility. It was moments like these, without a care in the world, that made all your training feel worth it. Yeah, the wins are fun, but the journey there feels more soul-enriching if that makes any sense. Though, the peace did not last for more than five minutes before deciding to speak up again. "You know," he said, "if you had been a son, I would've had complete faith in your ability to run and be the head of the family."
You knew you were far more than capable, but hearing those words actually come out of his mouth was a bit shocking. Though, that shock began to become bubbles of anger when you really thought about it.
Father, dear, while it's rare, women can take over as heads of families when their husbands die, and many of them prove themselves to be proficient in their role.
If he really wanted to, he could pass off the title of the family onto you. Though, that would be opening a messy can of worms. The title of man of the household will rightfully pass to your younger brother when your father passes. How would he react if his sister took his place? If he even allowed you to, that is. And that's not even mentioning how the public would react to this notion. So yes, Father could make you the head of the family if he was willing to do something controversial. But when there's a perfectly good heir present, why would he? Stirring up trouble or doing bold things was a line that Father wouldn't cross. He's much too prideful of a man to do such a thing and would shut down that idea immediately. It's all done in the name of the family, of course. Such a boring, cliche line, yet something that held weight in deciding any public activity you did.
He continued, "But if it means anything, I'd much rather have my daughter succeed me in our family's tradition of fencing than to have none of my children do it. Fencing runs through our blood and it's truly a shame that only you seem to inherit talent for it. Regardless, with this same carriage that has been used for 5 generations, worn out from all the distance that it has ridden, you will compete and win that trophy."
His compliment... made up for his previous comment, somewhat. It didn't leave much of an impact though and was pushed aside quickly when you began to wonder about something. "Have I become better than what you thought I would be?"
"Why, of course!" He exclaimed. "Sometimes I wonder if we had a duel when I was younger whether you would have been able to best me."
"That depends on how young because, Father, you only quit fencing 13 years ago." You reminded him. The golden 1st place trophy for the Men's Annual Fencing Competition he polished daily said just that. It gleamed on its shelf, sitting there and reflecting the sun's rays every time you stepped into his office. A constant reminder that you would only be able to achieve a fraction of that, a much smaller and more childish victory in comparison.
"Ah yes, around the time when you were born. I'm not as young as I used to be, but that's exactly why I decided to pass our family's fencing techniques onto you five years ago. Then you will pass the tradition onto your son-"
"If I bear any sons, that is. I'm willing to teach nephews if it comes to that."
"Well, if God grants it to be, we'll see."
There was just a slightly sour taste in his words, something that ticked you off. Thus, in a form of annoyance, you turned to your side to look away from him, at the rolling fields and trees making up the landscape. That was all there was to look at anyway, trees, greenery, the sky, and more trees. Then there was one. Something peculiar about one tree standing off to the side of the path. It caught your eye so suddenly, an oddly familiar feeling that pulled you towards it. You couldn't tear your gaze away from it, even looking over your shoulder to keep it in your sights when you passed by it.
"Is there something wrong (Y/N)?" He asked because of your silence.
"Uh, nothing Father, I just thought I saw something." Your eyes shifted to the front of the carriage. The reality, on the other hand, kept nagging at you. It wasn't 'nothing'. When you saw the back of those trees, it finally clicked why they intrigued you so much. It was seeing the trees from the same perspective as when you hid behind them that made you remember. On the day that you first witnessed Dio's cruelty.
Why... why were almost all the recent events in your life intertwined with that one fateful day? All linked to your attempt at an act of kindness that ultimately failed? All because of Dio... but that didn't matter today! No, not at all!
If there was a metaphorical wall that held the masks of all the roles you had to play, the literal metal mask on your face would be the one put in a glass display case. The other masks were just variations of you or an idealized version of you depending on the situation. You swapped through all of them like a rich girl and her wardrobe. But when nobody knows your face, your gender, race, or how pretty or ugly you are, they can't make assumptions about you. It's the ultimate power. You are a stranger to all. If a stranger has nothing more on which to judge but a lack of a face, how can the average person hate them? Furthermore, you were free to act however you pleased (as long as it did not embarrass Father)! Although it would have been better if even Father didn't know about this, if that's the price of freedom, you'd gladly pay it.
You were again distracted from your thoughts by familiarity again when Father stopped the carriage in front of some gates. While placing the reins into your hands he said, "I'll be right back. I just have to hand Mr. Joestar these papers. I'm sorry, but these really couldn't wait or be mailed."
Moving at a faster pace than what would be considered walking, he went through the high, stylized gates and left you alone with the horses. It took a minute before one of them, a beautiful brown Clydesdale to your left, looked back and started staring at you with the biggest puppy dog eyes she could pull off. Even if you had given some to her earlier, you were familiar with Starlight's antics and sighed while jumping off the carriage. You reached into a bag and rummaged around to pull out some sugar cubes.
The act of feeding her was a mindless one, with some slobber getting onto your bare hands but whatever. You began to think about how you would be at the fencing tournament in a matter of minutes. There was a big field in the middle of which it always took place. Those wooden benches, the circular fence that divided competitors and audiences, and the wooden platform in the middle, where you'd fight and win against the other boys -- oh, you couldn't wait! And hopefully, your fangirls won't cause such a commotion as they did last time. Wait, did you remember to bring a pen so you could sign autographs..?
"Is that who I think it is!?"
Spinning around, you shoved the glove back onto your hands and squeezed them into fists. Since their voice was so loud, your first instinct was to fight without even thinking about what they said. But as you sized up the body from which the voice had come from, his round blue eyes made you immediately drop your raised hands.
"It is! You're the Masked Musketeer, aren't you? I'm a big fan, oh I should tell you my name shouldn't I? I am Jonathan Joestar but you can call me Jojo and-" "And what are you doing on our property?" The scene happened too abruptly for you to comprehend it fully at first, but Dio's irritated voice just felt like a slap in the face. Seriously, meeting him by surprise again?
But, you noticed something unexpected while studying their faces. They were both giving you looks that neither of them had ever given you before. That's when a grin couldn't help but crawl onto your lips. You had almost forgotten about the mask on your face! They didn't recognize you, they couldn't have, and though it felt weird seeing them again after what happened at the library and having to pretend that it never happened, you were going to take advantage of this moment.
Since you wouldn't be able to talk with them without them recognizing your voice, you instead sauntered over to them with no hurry in your step. As you approached Jonathan, you extended your hand. He seemed more than eager to shake it. With the padding that you stuffed into the glove the day before along with the firm grip you gave, the hand no doubt felt like the average masculine hand of a boy.
"You still haven't answered my question," Dio said before stepping in front of Jonathan. "Are you aware that this is our property? It would also be nice if you could show us your face. We've had robberies in the area before, so we have to be vigilant."
Keeping silent, you pulled a family crest sewn into cloth from your pocket and showed it to them. On it was none other than a(n) [animal], embellished with fine details that made this crest belong to none other than the L/n family. Dio's raised brows gave away his confusion as to how in the world this stranger could have the emblem in their possession, but fortunately, his brother moved in to explain.
"Dio, allow me to introduce you to a little mysterious celebrity that's in our town. The Masked Musketeer! He always makes it to the finals of the under 18 annual fencing tournament and has won three times in a row. His sponsor is Mr. L/n, Y/n's father. Do you remember him?"
"I do." He turned to you, "So, 'Mister Musketeer', how exactly did you manage to get Mr. L/N to sponsor you?" He asked skeptically.
"Dio, you can't expect him to answer that! He can't talk or it would reveal his identity." Jonathan cried.
"And why should I care about that?"
"If he talks it'll ruin his charm! Sorry about that Masked Musketeer! He's only moved around here recently and hasn't heard of you before."
You had to bite your lip to avoid laughing at this scene. You never would have expected Jonathan to have been a fan of the Masked Musketeer, if only they knew who you really were! It was only for the sake of keeping your identity a secret that you held your tongue. So you just ended up nodding at everything that Jonathan was saying.
"Ha, that just sounds like an excuse to hide a bastard son. That's what you are, aren't you? Some product of an affair Mr. L/N had who can't show their face around or else people might start making the connection. Is this his way of buying off your silence?"
While he was snarkily grinning at his own deduction, your cocky smile quickly flipped upside down. How dare he accuse your father of such a thing? Of all the things Dio could have said to you, this one just crossed a line. You might not have a lot of respect for the man, but he at least allowed you to compete in fencing, and for that you owed him. Especially if this idea got planted in Dio and he started spreading rumors. You will repay your debt to your father by wiping off the stain that this boy tried to put on his clean name.
You spun on your heel and walked to the carriage. While Jonathan was mad at Dio for saying such a thing, the blonde's smile only widened by assuming that he had right. But they both stopped for a moment when they saw you jump off of the carriage with new objects in hand that you retrieved from the bag. Two foils. One with the feather of a peacock sticking out from a rounded guard. For his careless words and insult, you were going to challenge him to a duel of fencing.
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Had to rewrite this chapter so many times that it almost hurt. More then 5 times!
What was going to happen was this:
-Father invites the boys to watch the torment
-In one way or another Dio was going to find out your identity
-You didn't like how Dio had another thing to try and use to blackmail you
-You have a rival, who copies you a lot, and is also masked, but came out years after you, but fails in surpassing your talent.
-Rival reveals their identity and ends up being Minnie
-in respect to her, you recently revealed your identity
-Minnie gets pissed, but after you two get onto the stage, you use her anger and rash actions against her.
-You win and reveal to your Father how Dio already knows your identity or something
-Dio gains Father's favor