reflection ● jason grace

Daniel messes with her love life

 The idea of a winter formal didn't sit right with Daria.

It wasn't that Daria didn't want to go to the dance because she hated wearing dresses or high-heeled shoes. It was just that she didn't want to do those things in front of other people. She would be out of her element, and just the thought of someone laughing at her makeup was enough to twist her stomach into knots.

She was nearly 15. As her friends grew into their beauty, Daria was all gangly limbs and acne. Though it was hard to tell the difference with all of the brown freckles that covered her face.

When she fought with her swords, she was fast – no one could tell that her hair was uncontrollable or that she looked too intimidating. But at a dance, she would be bare; unprotected by armor or a weapon. And, she would have to be in front of Reyna.

"What are you going to do if Michael asks you?" Jason asked as they walked to the Field of Mars. He kept his voice carefully impassive, staring at the grass in front of him.

Daria knew Jason was trying to avoid the fact that he had been MIA for three months. But Daria didn't mind. She figured sparring with her was his way of apologizing.

"That is so low on my list of worries right now," she muttered back.

"Yeah." They walked in an awkward silence for a few minutes. Daria looked at all the lights hung up on the Via Praetoria.

She knew Jason still felt responsible for the legionnaires that had died during the siege. Daria had never really labeled her friend as a thinker, and she knew his silence was a product of Daria and Daniel treating him like a child.

But he wasn't that naive anymore. Something had changed; he was harder to read. He didn't grin at Daria's jokes or tease her about being a rule follower. He still talked to her though, and that was enough.

"No powers?" Daria suggested as the field grew closer. It was a Thursday morning, so there were classes being taught. Similar to the boot camps they'd been a part of when they were children.

"Sure." He squinted in the sunlight, tossing his coin so that it landed on heads. His gladius. Short range. "Not too cold outside. We could go a few rounds."

Even if it was cold at the moment, the exercise would warm them right up. Daria shed her jacket as Jason did the same. She wore a black long sleeve and leggings, having learned her lesson from yesterday.

"Don't play dirty," she warned him.

He snorted. "Me? Never." He lunged, barely giving her time to draw her weapons.

The sound of metal clashing on metal echoed around Daria's head. She knew how Jason attacked and defended, but there was no doubt he'd picked up a few tricks training with Daniel. However, he wasn't the only one who had that training.

Bruises littered his arms from the Deathball tournament last night. Of course, Daria had gotten injured in the scuffle too, but her skin wasn't as pale as his. She knew he would favor his right side, leaving his left virtually undefended.

He kicked at her skin, causing her to inhale sharply in pain. They circled each other for a few more moments, Jason's blue eyes sharp like a wolf's. Daria feinted right, but he saw through it, meeting her attack. Though, like she'd predicted, he was weak.

She pushed one of her swords against his, pinning the other against his throat. "Ready to give up?"

He ducked, pushing back harder with a newfound energy. "Not yet."

This went on for a few minutes. You would think that their matches went on forever since they were both so skilled, but it was almost the opposite. Daria had never gone a round with Jason that lasted more than 15 minutes.