Silent Reckonings [Yord Fandar x OC]

Chapter 6

Elara arrived at the training grounds with a heavy heart. Master Norrin's cancellation wasn't new; he often had missions that kept him away. Each time, Elara tried to understand, but the repeated absences were beginning to chip away at her confidence. She couldn't shake the feeling that she was being left behind, a shadow of insecurity creeping in every time her Master was away.

As she approached the training room, her anxiety grew. "Why does Master Norrin keep leaving me out?" she wondered, feeling a cold wave of doubt. "Other Padawans are regularly involved in missions. What does it mean that I'm not? Am I not progressing as expected?"

Opening the door to the training room, she was greeted by Master Yord. The sight of him brought a mix of relief and apprehension. Yord had been asked to fill in for Master Norrin, and while his presence was a comfort, it also stirred a different kind of tension within her.

"Master Yord," Elara said, her voice betraying a hint of her inner turmoil. "I didn't expect to see you today."

Master Yord's smile was warm, but Elara noticed a flicker of something else in his eyes—perhaps concern or contemplation. "Master Norrin had to cancel today's training, so I'm here to assist. Are you ready to start?"

Elara nodded, trying to push aside her swirling thoughts. "Yes, Master Yord. I'm ready."

They moved into the training area, and Master Yord began to guide her through a series of exercises designed to refine her skills. Despite her best efforts, Elara found herself distracted, her mind preoccupied with doubts. Her movements were less fluid, her concentration faltering.

Master Yord noticed her struggle and decided to address it. "Elara, I sense that something is troubling you. Is there something on your mind?"

Elara hesitated, her gaze dropping to the floor. "It's just... Master Norrin has been canceling our sessions frequently. I can't help but wonder if I'm not progressing as I should. It feels like I'm falling behind."

Master Yord's eyes flickered with an emotion he quickly masked. His hand twitched involuntarily, a subtle reminder of his earlier encounter with her. He tried to maintain his composure, but the weight of her words and the memory of their last interaction added a layer of tension to his response.

"I understand how frustrating it can be," Master Yord said, his voice steady but carrying an undercurrent of his own internal struggle. "Master Norrin's absences don't reflect your abilities or your progress. It's important to focus on your training and not let these uncertainties cloud your path."

Elara looked up, her expression a mixture of hope and lingering doubt. "Thank you, Master Yord. I'll try to focus more on the training."

Yord decided to shift the focus of their session. "While your lightsaber skills are crucial, it's also essential to be proficient in hand-to-hand combat. Master Norrin has covered the theory, but I'll help you with the physical techniques."

Elara's eyes widened, a flicker of apprehension crossing her face. "Hand-to-hand combat? I haven't practiced much of that."

Yord approached her, his presence close enough to feel the heat of his body. "It's a critical skill. In situations where you might be disarmed, knowing how to fight with your bare hands can be a significant advantage." His voice was low and firm, but there was a subtle edge that made Elara's heart race. "We'll start with the basics and build from there."

He guided her through fundamental combat moves, his hands occasionally brushing against hers as he demonstrated the techniques. Each touch was electric, sending a jolt of awareness through both of them. Yord's eyes lingered on her, his gaze tracing the contours of her face, while Elara struggled to keep her focus on the physical training.

As they practiced, Yord's movements became more deliberate, his proximity more intimate. When he adjusted her stance or corrected her form, his touch lingered just a bit longer than necessary. The air between them grew thicker, charged with a palpable tension that neither could ignore.

Elara's breath grew shallow as she felt the warmth of Yord's body close to hers, his touch lingering on her skin. Each correction and adjustment seemed to heighten her awareness of him, her senses acutely tuned to every brush of his hand.

As the session drew to a close, Elara wiped the sweat from her brow, her emotions in a whirl. She turned to Master Yord, her eyes reflecting a mixture of gratitude and unspoken feelings. "Thank you for today, Master Yord. I feel like I've learned a lot."

Master Yord nodded, his expression a blend of relief and restrained emotion. "You did well, Elara. Remember, every Padawan's journey is unique. You're making progress. Just keep pushing forward."

As Elara left the training room, she felt a sense of cautious optimism. The additional training and Master Yord's presence had helped ground her, even as the unresolved tension between them lingered in the air. Master Yord watched her leave, his thoughts tangled with the mix of professional responsibility and the stirring emotions that had surfaced during their time together.

•

Yord watched as Elara gathered her things and left the training room, his gaze lingering on her retreating form. The intense physical and emotional exchange had left him flustered, and he struggled to suppress the blush that had crept up his cheeks. His heart pounded in his chest, the rhythm quickened by the proximity and the charged atmosphere between them.

The warmth of her body against his, the way her breath quickened with every touch—it all had an unexpected effect on him. He found himself caught between professional duty and the personal sensations that stirred within him. The memory of their close contact was a vivid, unsettling presence in his mind.

He ran a hand through his locs, trying to steady his breathing. The lingering blush on his cheeks and the erratic beating of his heart were clear signs that he had been more affected than he intended. He exhaled slowly, attempting to ground himself in the reality of the training room.

As he turned to leave, he heard the door open again. Yord looked up, momentarily expecting to see Elara returning. Instead, it was Master Sol, who entered with his own Padawan. Yord's breath caught as he quickly tried to regain his composure, his mind still reeling from the recent session.

Master Sol's keen eyes immediately took in Yord's flushed face and the sheen of sweat on his brow. "Yord, are you alright?" he asked, concern evident in his tone. "You seem rather... heated. Did Elara's training put you under strain?"

Yord's gaze met Master Sol's, and he struggled to maintain his professional demeanor. "I'm fine, Master Sol," he replied, his voice slightly unsteady. "It was an intense session, but nothing I can't handle."

Master Sol raised an eyebrow, clearly unconvinced but choosing to let the matter drop for now. "Very well. Just make sure you're taking care of yourself."

As Master Sol and his Padawan began their training session, Yord forced himself to focus on the task at hand, though his mind kept drifting back to the earlier encounter with Elara. The lingering emotions and physical response were a reminder of the complex feelings he needed to manage.