[being rewritten for the 1938473th time]
If it was up to Y/n L/n, she would read the summer away, lost in history books and adventure novels, finding excitement in their written words.
Meeting Lloyd Garmadon changed her plans.
Suddenly, Y/n is l...
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big shake on the boxcar movin' big shake to the land that's fallin' down is a wind makes a palm stop blowin' a big, big stone fall and break my crown
•••••
TW: blood, gore, needles (a descriptive scene of sewing skin), fainting
"Good." The hand beside Lloyd's face went back a smidge when my fist landed into his palm. "Again. Don't twist your hips so much, you'll lose your power."
I nodded and drove my punch into his palm again. When his hand suddenly fell to his stomach, I twisted my forearm and dug it in with a sharp jab.
"Better." Lloyd took my fist and laid it upon his shoulder. "Use your knee this time. Just slow, feel it out."
I lifted my knee until it touched his palm. I looked up at him for acknowledgment and he nodded.
"Faster. Five of them."
I sent my knee into his palm five times. My balancing leg began to wobble with fatigue. Sweat plastered my hair to my face, and the worry over how gross I'd look all puffed and exerted disappeared an hour ago when I quickly got too tired to think such thoughts. Lloyd was relentless.
He instructed me through improving my stance, ordered five more knee-to-the-guts, and then ordered another ten on the opposite leg. By the time that set was done, I was trembling and dripping with sweat.
Lloyd granted me mercy, passing a hand over my hair in satisfaction. "Well done. Go take a drink."
I relaxed my stance with a sigh of relief. "Thank you."
He followed me to the edge of the dojo, where I slumped onto the ground and took deep gulps of cold water from my bottle. I could feel my heartbeat even in my feet. Lloyd leant against the wooden beam beside me and watched in amusement, his hair fluttering in the gentle breeze that slipped in through the open doors. The temptation of the garden laid beyond.
"How much more are we doing?" I asked. Lloyd was still in recovery, but I wasn't. He'd already jogged beside my run through the forest, in which I'd stumbled over roots more than a few times. The start to my hand-to-hand combat training had been quick and sweaty.
Lloyd shrugged. "However long you think you can last." At the look of struggle that crossed my face, he changed tactics. "I'll give you a kiss for every full set of kata."
