· a/n: a quick drabble based on the prompt for day six from the official fictober prompt list on tumblr!
· prompt: (#6) "That was impressive."
· warnings: knives, weapons training
· word count: 1,153
"Make sure you're breathing evenly from your stomach, not your chest," Loki remarked, placing his palm against the leather of your cuirass and motioning for you to inflate your belly rather than your chest. He breathed in slowly, meaning for you to breathe along with him. He nodded as he felt your air moving deeper within you, "Good. Keep that up,"
Loki's fingers nestled over yours gently as he adjusted your grip on the hilt of his dagger. Your heart would have skipped in its steady rhythm had your mind not been completely occupied with absorbing his every instruction. You were oblivious to the smile he wore when he noticed the stout look of concentration on your face. With a chuckle, his glance fell to your footing next. He helped you notice that your legs were too close together – which would hinder your distribution of momentum and weight - by gently nudging your boot with his until you repositioned yourself.
You had long admired Loki's skill with his daggers, both in close combat and in long-distance aiming, and had finally decided to ask him for lessons. He had been pleasantly surprised by your inquiry, knowing that you preferred the heavy power behind your long sword and the protection of your shield. You were even sufficiently skilled with a bow, but your true skill was in the graceful footwork of a battle of blades – which explained why you were so capable in the dances that rotated on the marble floors of his mother's ballroom.
Loki hadn't said it aloud, but he had felt a great amount of pride swell within him when you had asked him to teach you. There were seldom times when anyone would come to Loki for advice regarding skills in combat; such things were usually requested of his brother, Thor, along with a great many other things no one thought him efficient in. It was refreshing to be the teacher instead of the scorned.
"Now, make sure your rotation is smooth when you're turning to throw," his hands turned your waist slowly as he demonstrated how much and how little you were to move, "Don't worry about your accuracy until you're able to move in one fluent gesture, and keep your back straight."
You twisted yourself as he had, keeping your feet planted firmly but your torso and arms flexible. It felt odd to not have the weight of your sword balanced against your own and instead hold a small blade in between your fingers, but you felt as though you were doing something correctly. He nodded his approval as you practiced your rotation once more.
"Try throwing it when you're ready," He said, holding his chin amidst his slender fingers. "And remember, you're not trying to hit the target yet, so don't pressure yourself. Any amount of nerves could offset your delivery."
The breath you slowly took in swelled in your stomach as you repeated his steps in your head. You turned yourself to your side and stalled, releasing a steady puff of air through your lips. You were mindful to straighten your posture in the process.
He watched patiently as you took it slow, which in turn eased any pressure you felt about having to do things quickly. You twisted yourself a little further and positioned the blade close to the side of your chest that was furthest from the target. Something about the constricting tightness of your muscles reminded you of pulling back the strap of a loaded slingshot before you took aim, balancing the weight of the stone and the momentum behind your release.
Allowing yourself one last deep breath, you closed your eyes for a second and made sure your feet were planted firmly – then, in the blink of an eye, you followed through with your rotation and let the blade glide between your fingers across the courtyard. It almost felt as though time slowed as your eyes followed the glint of metal as it passed under the sunlight and finally met its target.
The blade tore through the stuffed sack of the target's respective gut, spilling the grain into a heap onto the dirt. Your face alighted with shock and accomplishment as you realized what you had successfully achieved. Bouncing on the toes of your feet, you pointed at the damage you had managed to do and turned to Loki, who was still processing a reaction.
His arms dropped to his sides as he stared at the frayed fabric of the sack and the grain that poured out slowly like sand in an hourglass. You watched with a grin as his lips parted and shut, and then opened again as if his words caught in his throat. Waiting giddily, you glanced between his stunned expression and the mutilated target.
"That was impressive," He managed to say. He shook his head in disbelief, finally peeling his eyes off of the grain and turning to you. The quirk to his eyebrows made you feel a little pride for yourself that you had managed to impress the prince. His hands moved to rest upon his hips. "You're sure you've never done this before?"
It wasn't that he thought you incapable or hadn't expected you to do well, but within reason, he had not expected you to succeed so quickly. He was stymied, to say the least, which made you feel all the more as though you had done something remarkable.
"Not unless you count the darts in the warrior's lounge," you answered coyly.
Loki tucked his lips in as he thought to himself. Darts were quite different than throwing knives, both in how you threw them and in their flight, but he supposed some experience from your use of them could have been applied here.
"Huh," his gaze fixated on the target again, "Maybe you're ready for the next lesson. Let's try that once more, shall we?"
You nodded, biting your smile as he stepped closer and fit another blade between your gloved fingers. When his hand grazed the small of your back as he helped you take your stance again, you were unable to dismiss the tingling sensation it left behind. You were far too giddy with yourself that you had managed not only to impress yourself, but Loki as well, who was generally very unimpressed by most things.
That giddy sensation, however, did not stop you from gutting the target again, and again, and again, until an entirely new dummy had to be brought out.
If Loki hadn't been in love with you already, that show of unbelievable skill would have undoubtedly done the trick. But lucky for you, you had won his heart a long time before then. But it certainly didn't hurt the passion of his emotions towards you. In fact, it had made him fall for you a little more with each slice through the woven fabric (quite a lot more, actually).

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The Avengers x Reader Inserts
FanfictionStatus: ONGOING/ACTIVE || Requests: CLOSED Join the Avengers and their nemeses in a series of misadventures and fluff in this collection of one-shots and mini-series based on the MCU! This is a book of imagines, one-shots, preferences, and series th...